#Fic Series

[chenslucy]

I���M SOOOO READY FOR THIS!! you got me hooked with ultimate slow burn 🤩. omg i can’t wait!

FRAGMENTS 𐙚 rafe cameron x reader social media au & written.

"Do you remember what you promised me the last time we talked?" "To never leave you, I think. Right?"

SYNOPSIS: Rafe Cameron is your ex-boyfriend. The problem is that nobody knows that you two even dated, not a single soul. Engaging in a reckless game of jealousy, it only goes worse from there. To put it short, two people stupidly flirt with the wrong person, when they could do it to each other.

PROGRESS. coming soon!

CONTENT. smut (mdni), attempts at comedy, toxic relationships, ultimate slow burn, miscommunication, mutual pining. mentions of: cheating, alcohol consumption, marriage, more to be added if needed.

TAGLIST. open! feel free to comment or send in an ask anytime to be added

chapter 1. tba

more to come!

NOTES. helllooo!! i am so excited for this new series, it's so much more organized and strictly planned compared to my first work ever :') keep in mind that i do emphasize the word ultimate (slow burn).. because knowing me.. i love and crave good angst.

[212-apricity]

siren songs and stolen kisses, the bell tower

ssask masterlist main masterlist

author's note: guys im so sorry i havent updated since literally BEFORE CHRISTMAS but ive been locking in for school rn (sixth form is NOT for the weak) and the other day when i was gonna post my friends invited me to a party and i got super drunk and completely forgot🙂...BUT we're back now🥳💖🙏🗣️‼️

OH and i havent proofread this so im sorry for any mistakes or anything and also:

Y/I = your initials

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the cluttered salvage yard, highlighting the rusted car parts and scattered tools that formed a chaotic maze. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a temporary refuge for the Pogues—a brief sanctuary in a world that seemed hell-bent on breaking us. I leaned against an old pickup truck, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, the cool metal grounding me. My eyes darted nervously between Pope, Kiara, and JJ. JJ’s blue eyes burned with a fire I knew all too well: a volatile mix of anger, frustration, and helplessness.

Above us, the faint drone of Ward’s plane sliced through the tense silence like a taunt, a constant reminder of everything slipping out of our grasp. Pope’s voice broke the heavy quiet first, tight and bitter. “There goes the gold,” he muttered, his gaze locked on the plane’s retreating silhouette.

JJ exploded instantly, his emotions boiling over. “Goddammit!” he roared, kicking a plastic chair with enough force to send it flying in pieces. It splintered against the gravel, the shards scattering like his temper. Pope wasn’t far behind, grabbing a crowbar from a nearby pile of tools. With a furious yell, he swung it into a stack of metal drums. The clang reverberated through the yard, each echo sharpening the tension around us. “Fuck!”

“Pope, stop!” Kiara shouted, her voice rising in alarm as she took a cautious step toward him. But he didn’t hear—or maybe he didn’t care. The crowbar came down again and again, each strike more furious than the last. JJ, Kiara, and I exchanged a worried glance. This wasn’t Pope—not the level-headed, focused friend we relied on. It was as if the pressure and frustration of everything had finally cracked something deep inside him.

Finally, Pope’s swings slowed, his energy drained. With a final clatter, the crowbar slipped from his hands, and he sank into a nearby chair, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. JJ let out a low whistle, his eyebrows raised in a mix of surprise and concern. “Yeah, dude,” he said, his tone lighter than the moment warranted. “That was… intense.”

Still breathing heavily, Pope stared down at his hands as if searching for answers in his palms. JJ reached into his pocket and pulled out his vape, holding it out casually. “Here you go, chief,” he offered, his smirk barely concealing the weight of the situation.

Pope hesitated, his hand hovering over the vape. “A little weed never hurt no one,” JJ added with a shrug, his tone dripping with nonchalance.

“JJ,” Kiara snapped, her sharp tone cutting through the moment.

“Relax, Kie,” JJ shot back, his irritation flaring.

She crossed her arms, her disapproval radiating. “You know he doesn’t smoke.”

To my surprise—and evidently Kiara’s as well—Pope took the vape. It wasn’t just an acceptance; it felt like a challenge, a way to push back against her judgment. JJ grinned, leaning back on the wreck of an old car, his expression triumphant. “Well, maybe not until today,” he quipped.

I moved closer, sitting beside Pope and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Kiara’s frown deepened, her concern clear as she tried to reason with him. “Pope,” she said judgementally, “Yeah, what’s that gonna help?”

Pope exhaled a shaky breath, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “I lost my scholarship Kiara,” he admitted, his voice breaking with defeat. “Walked out in the middle of the interview. Everything… it’s not gonna happen. It’s gone.”

My chest tightened at his words. I squeezed his shoulder gently, wishing I could somehow lift even a fraction of the burden he carried. Kiara’s face twisted in shock and disbelief. “You did that for us?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“No,” Pope replied, his tone resolute as he stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the gravel. His frustration bubbled over again, spilling into his next words. “Not for us. For nothing.”

JJ stepped up beside him, his expression calmer now, almost uncharacteristically so. “I’m here for you, Pope,” he said quietly, pressing the vape back into his friend’s hand. “Welcome to my world.”

“JJ—” Kiara started, her voice rising with protest, but I cut her off, unable to hold back my own frustration. “What, Kie? He’s right. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

A heavy silence fell over us, broken only by the distant cawing of seagulls. Pope raised the vape to his lips, inhaling lightly before exhaling a thin plume of smoke. Kiara shook her head, her eyes filled with quiet desperation. “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

Pope turned to her, his patience fraying. “Why do you care?” he snapped, his voice sharper than intended.

Before Kiara could respond, movement behind us caught my eye. “John B,” I said, my voice a mix of relief and alarm.

We all spun around to see him approach, his figure disheveled and unsteady. Blood streaked up his arms, smeared all the way to his wrists. My stomach dropped, dread washing over me like a tidal wave. We rushed toward him, our questions spilling out in a panicked tumble.

“Dude! Dude, you good?” JJ asked, concern softening his usual bravado.

“Oh my God, John B!” Kiara exclaimed, her hands hovering near him as if unsure whether to touch him.

“John B, are you okay? Where’s Sarah?” I asked, my voice rising with panic.

John B didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on the ground, his expression distant and haunted. The sight of him like this sent my mind racing, each horrific possibility more unbearable than the last. Whose blood was it? Sarah’s? Rafe’s? Ward’s?

The sound of approaching sirens snapped us out of our collective worry. “Cops!” JJ hissed, his voice low but urgent. Without hesitation, he grabbed my waist and pulled me behind a stack of rusted metal, his grip firm and protective.

We crouched together, my back pressed against his chest as we waited for the sirens to pass. His breath was warm against my ear, steady despite the chaos around us. In that moment, amidst the tension and fear, I felt an unexpected sense of safety in his arms. When the sirens finally faded into the distance, JJ loosened his hold, though his hand lingered on my hip—a silent reassurance that he had me.

“We need a plan,” Kiara said, her voice shaky as she peeked out from our hiding spot. “This isn’t over.”

JJ glanced down at me, his usual smirk returning for a fleeting moment. “You okay, princess?” he asked softly, his tone carrying an unexpected gentleness.

I nodded, my cheeks flushing at the nickname. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good,” he said, his voice low and steady.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

As John B’s voice echoed through the Twinkie, the tension in the air was palpable. The urgency in his tone cut through everything, even the thick fog of confusion that still clouded my thoughts. Rafe had killed Peterkin. My brother. The same brother I used to confide in. I’d never been more shaken in my life, and as much as I wanted to confront him, to get answers, I knew I couldn’t right now. The truth needed to come out, but I was still struggling to process what that meant.

I sat next to JJ, trying to hold it together. He could sense I was barely keeping it together, though, and before long, he shifted closer to me. He didn’t say anything at first, just placed a hand on my knee, the warmth of his touch grounding me. His eyes, usually so full of mischievous energy, were soft now, full of something deeper, something tender.

“Hey, you good?” he asked quietly, his voice low, only for me to hear. The way he spoke my name made it feel like we were the only two people in the world right now, and for a brief moment, I wanted to believe it.

I managed a shaky nod, though the lump in my throat made it hard to speak. “Just… a lot to take in.”

JJ squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing over my skin, the comfort of his touch pulling me back from the edge of my panic. “I’m here, baby. I got you.”

His words, simple but powerful, gave me something to cling to. I leaned into him slightly, resting my head against his shoulder. He didn’t pull away; instead, he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. His body was warm, a steady presence that seemed to push back the cold, chaotic storm swirling in my chest. The soft hum of the Twinkie’s engine and the rhythmic sound of the tires against the road were the only things that filled the silence now, but for some reason, with JJ beside me, it didn’t feel quite as suffocating.

“John B,” JJ called out suddenly, breaking the tension. “What are we doing at the police station?”

I glanced over at John B, watching as he hesitated, gripping the steering wheel with a tightness that made his knuckles white. I could tell he was wrestling with the decision, the weight of what they were about to do.

“Somebody’s gotta tell them what happened,” John B finally spoke, his voice rough, but determined.

Before anyone could respond, Pope let out a dramatic cough from the back seat, still trying to get the hang of JJ’s vape, the noise cutting through the otherwise quiet tension.

“Easy there, Chief,” JJ teased, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. It was clear he was trying to lighten the mood, and despite everything, I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, the sound escaping me despite my best efforts to keep it together.

John B’s hand clenched harder on the wheel as we pulled up closer to the police station. I could tell he was hesitating, the reality of what he was about to do weighing heavily on him. JJ leaned forward, his hand resting on John B’s shoulder, his voice steady.

“I’m gonna be real with you, man,” JJ started, his tone serious now. “You might end up in the lion’s den, but you do not go there on purpose. It’s fundamental. Just like my old man taught me…”

At the mention of his father, I rolled my eyes. JJ’s father was a man I had little respect for—abusive, manipulative, and dangerous. JJ had grown up in that environment, a fact that always seemed to haunt him.

“JJ,” I interrupted, my voice carrying the weight of my frustration, “your old man’s an abusive liar.”

Before JJ could respond, Pope cut in, his voice uncharacteristically firm. “I agree with JJ,” he said, surprising everyone in the car, myself included. “Screw the police.”

Kiara whipped around in her seat, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You goin’ to the dark side now?” she asked, clearly judgmental.

Pope didn’t flinch. “When’s the last time the police helped us?”

John B spoke next, his voice quiet, almost as if he were talking to himself. “Peterkin looked out for me, all right? Tried to, at least.”

There was a moment of silence as we all processed his words. Despite everything, there was a part of me that didn’t want to believe Rafe was capable of murder. I couldn’t fathom it. The brother I once knew couldn’t have done something so terrible. But the evidence was right there, and it had to be acknowledged.

I closed my eyes for a moment, a wave of dread washing over me, but JJ’s arm around my shoulders gave me something to focus on. He kissed the side of my head, a gentle gesture that somehow made everything feel a little more bearable, even if just for a moment.

“Let’s just get this over with,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.

As we approached the police station, Kiara’s voice cracked the silence again, this time filled with concern. “I have a bad feeling about this, guys,” she said, her eyes darting nervously around the car.

Pope, still working through the effects of the vape, muttered, “What don’t you have bad feelings about, Kiara?”

She gave him a pointed look, but before she could respond, my phone buzzed again. Rafe or Sarah—neither had responded to any of my texts. I couldn’t help but feel a gnawing sense of anxiety build up again as I checked my phone, hoping for some kind of message. Anything to give me clarity. Anything to give me peace of mind.

JJ, noticing my growing frustration, gently took the phone from my hands, stopping me before I could spiral further.

“It’ll work out, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice reassuring.

I looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time in what felt like hours. His eyes were full of a tenderness I rarely saw. I was grateful for it, grateful for him. It didn’t fix everything, but in that moment, it was enough.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes as the car bounced along the uneven road. The steady rise and fall of his chest under my cheek was a comfort, grounding me in a way nothing else could. Pope started coughing again, and I couldn’t help but chuckle despite everything.

“Here, let me show you how to do it,” I said, reaching over to take the vape from his hands. “You’re gonna choke yourself out at this rate.”

Pope, looking embarrassed, nodded gratefully as I demonstrated how to inhale properly.

“Inhale from the pen, hold it while you inhale the air, then hold that, bring it down to your lungs and then exhale slowly. You’vve got to do it slowly or you’ll choke.”

JJ laughed lightly behind me, as I repeated the words he’d said to me years ago when I asked for him to teach me, his low chuckle sending a shiver down my spine.

“Maybe you should teach him how to roll a blunt next,” he teased, his voice warm with affection.

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Shut up, J.”

Before we could say anything else, we were jolted out of our conversation by John B’s frantic shouting.

“Start the car, Kiara!” he yelled, rushing up to the Twinkie.

Kiara’s eyes widened in alarm as she scrambled to the driver’s seat, shifting gears and starting the car without hesitation. The chaos that followed was instant. We all screamed at John B, asking him what he’d done. “Just drive, Kiara, drive!” John B shouted as the deputy sheriff, Officer Plumb, came running toward us, trying to catch up.

The Twinkie lurched forward, tires screeching, and as the deputy caught up to the door, Pope screamed, “Open the door, John B!”

John B quickly obeyed, the door swinging open and knocking Plumb off her feet as we sped away. The moment was chaotic, but the adrenaline of escaping gave us all a brief moment to breathe, albeit raggedly.

We sat there in stunned silence, catching our breath, the world outside feeling more dangerous by the second.

“Everybody okay?” Kiara asked, looking around at each of us.

I nodded slowly, my heart still racing. JJ was quiet next to me, his hand finding mine once more, grounding me in a way no words ever could. He didn’t say anything, but the gentle squeeze of his hand spoke volumes.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The sun beat down on the dusty road, casting a heat haze over the Twinkie as it idled at the side of the road, parked in a secluded spot. The air felt sticky, thick with tension, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Inside, the Pogues were sprawled in every corner, trying to stay out of sight. Y/n, lying in the backseat, could hear the occasional rustle of the others shifting, but it was quiet, almost too quiet.

She fiddled absentmindedly with JJ's lighter, flipping it open and closed in her hand. The soft click of the lighter’s lid echoed in the otherwise silent car, and she kept her eyes on the motion, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t the mess they were in. JJ’s head was resting on her chest, his hat pulled low to shield her eyes from the harsh midday sun. She could feel his breath against her, a steady rhythm that calmed her more than she wanted to admit.

Y/n glanced down at him, her fingers trailing over the brim of his hat, moving to his neck. The lightest of smiles tugged at the corners of her lips as JJ shifted, his tousled blonde hair falling over his forehead, still messy even under the hat. He stirred slightly, murmuring something unintelligible, but his position didn’t change.

“You good?” she whispered, nudging him gently.

He let out a soft, almost inaudible grunt in response, but the smile he gave her was enough to tell her he wasn’t asleep—just content. “Mmhmm... just trying to avoid the sun. Can’t let it mess up my look, y’know?” he said with a lazy smirk, his eyes still closed.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t protest. The simple, playful teasing was one of the things she loved most about him.

The soft voice of the radio broke the stillness. “Good news for residents of the Outer Banks. Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to 90% of the area, should be functional within 24 hours.”

JJ’s head shot up suddenly as the sound of sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder as they approached. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, then to the side of the road. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, eyes widening as the sirens got closer. He didn’t move to sit up, but the tension in his body was palpable, and Y/n felt it before he spoke again.

He remained on her chest, but his hand gripped her hip with a tightness that made her stomach flip. The sirens passed by, the sound growing fainter until it was nothing more than a distant hum. He exhaled in relief and flopped back down with a groan, resting his head on her chest again.

Y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, her fingers threading through his hair absentmindedly. She focused on the radio again, trying to push the paranoia out of her head, as did everyone else.

“And still no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from—”

The radio cut off abruptly, and Kiara’s voice sliced through the silence. She was sitting in the passenger seat, her hand stretched out to flick the radio dial off with a sharp motion.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Kiara muttered, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror nervously. She rubbed at her temples as if the weight of everything was starting to settle on her shoulders, too.

JJ sat up, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Alright. Let’s game this out. Maybe you guys can help, you know, being the smart ones and all…” He gestured lazily toward Pope and Kiara in the front seats, but his gaze flicked back to them. “But who are the cops gonna believe? Ward Cameron, or us?”

Y/n felt the weight of his words settle in as she kept fiddling with his lighter, trying to avoid looking at him too closely. She already knew the answer.

“The accuser’s a big shot developer, kind of lord of the island, got the governor on speed dial. Isn’t that right, Y/n? Kind of person?” JJ continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He gave her a sly look as he leaned over her slightly, nudging her shoulder with his.

Y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, the teasing in his voice making her stomach do that familiar flutter. “Probably,” she said with a grin, but JJ’s expression didn’t change. She tried to ignore the way his words made her heart skip a beat, instead focusing on the lighter again.

JJ raised an eyebrow and pressed on. “And the accused is John B. Who is… pretty much a homeless 16-year-old boy at the moment.”

John B made a sound of protest. “Thanks,” he muttered dryly, not missing a beat.

Pope let out a frustrated groan, rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit,” he muttered, clearly weighing the reality of the situation.

JJ continued, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. “Okay, man. Yucatán. Alright? I’m saying that’s the only option.”

Kiara glanced back at him, her brow furrowed. “What other option do you have?”

John B’s eyes flickered with something—resentment, maybe—before he sighed. “JJ, enough with the Mexican bullshit. Sarah will bail me out.”

“She did witness the whole thing,” Kiara chimed in, turning to glance at John B, her eyes softening just slightly.

John B nodded at her, a brief moment of gratitude crossing his face. “Thanks.”

Pope raised an eyebrow, his voice skeptical. “And she’s gonna snitch on her brother? No offense, Y/n.”

Y/n shifted uncomfortably, her gut twisting. She hadn’t thought much about Sarah’s involvement, but Pope had a point. There was no way Rafe would let Sarah testify against him.

JJ snorted, then took a puff from a blunt he’d suddenly lit up. He leaned back, eyes half-lidded as he exhaled the smoke slowly. “Not happening, bro. Okay? We’ve gotta get you off the island.”

Pope turned to glance out the window, chewing on his lip as if the gears were turning in his head. “The ferry. It’s the only way.”

As if on cue, sirens blared again, and JJ’s eyes widened. “Exit stage left while you still can. Before the entire island’s on lockdown.”

“Guys, get down,” Y/n whispered, her voice tight with nerves as the sound of sirens grew closer, this time much louder.

Pope cursed under his breath as the police cars sped by, their flashing lights cutting through the silence.

“Sarah’s not a Pogue, John B,” Pope said, clearly frustrated.

Y/n felt a pang in her chest, but she couldn’t tell if it was guilt, dread, or something else entirely. She hadn’t thought about Sarah and John B’s connection for a while, but the words felt like a cold reminder of the danger they were in.

JJ leaned closer to her, pressing his shoulder into hers. “Yeah, you can’t stay here, man.”

Y/n gave John B a soft look, knowing JJ was right. They had to move. Fast.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The atmosphere in the car was tight with nerves, the faint hum of Kiara’s parents’ car the only sound as they drove in silence, the occasional creak of the suspension filling the gaps. The tension among the Pogues was thick—each of them trying to wrap their heads around what came next. JJ’s hand rested on the back of Y/n’s seat, his fingers idly tapping on the fabric as his mind raced, likely thinking about the implications of their next move.

They pulled up to the ferry terminal, the familiar sight of the metal gates and wooden booths looming in front of them. Kiara hit the brakes, coming to a halt as Pope unbuckled his seatbelt, already opening the door. Y/n glanced at JJ, who was still absentmindedly twirling his lighter between his fingers, his eyes focused on the terminal.

“You sure this is the best idea?” Y/n asked, her voice tinged with doubt. “I mean, what’s the plan if the ferry’s not running?”

JJ didn’t respond immediately, just gave her that crooked, half-smiling look, like he always did when he didn’t have an answer but knew he’d figure it out. He squeezed her shoulder, a silent reassurance. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, babe. Stay cool.”

As Pope headed off toward the ticket booth, Kiara rolled her eyes. “Why is it always Pope doing the talking?” she muttered under her breath, running a hand through her hair.

JJ grinned, leaning back in his seat and locking eyes with Y/n. “He’s got the whole ‘nerdy, intelligent’ thing going for him. They’ll believe him.”

Y/n smiled softly at that, reaching over to squeeze JJ’s hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers.

John B, sitting beside her in the backseat, watched Pope’s retreating figure with a furrowed brow. “You think the ferry’s even gonna be running?” he asked quietly, his voice strained.

Before anyone could respond, Pope came back to the car, looking less than thrilled. His face was grim as he walked up to the window, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

“Okay, alright, no,” Pope muttered, shaking his head as he leaned in the window. He handed Kiara the paper, the frustration clear in his voice, “Bad news,” he announced, holding up a crumpled paper. “The ferry’s not running. And there’s this.”

He handed the paper to Kiara, who opened it with a frown, her face falling as she processed the information. She handed it to Y/n, who read the poster in stunned silence.

John B’s face was plastered on the wanted poster. WANTED: John B Routledge. Reward: $500,000.

“Oh, John B. This is not a good look for you,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her fingers tightening around the paper. She handed it to JJ, her stomach twisting.

JJ didn’t even hesitate before speaking up. “Congratulations, John B. You’re famous.” He smirked, but it was clear he was more worried than he let on.

Kiara groaned, looking between the group. “So, now what?”

Pope, clearly uneasy, turned to face them. “We need to get him out of here. They’re looking for him everywhere. We can’t stay here.”

Kiara was already thinking ahead. “We need to go to the HMS. No running lights. No attention.”

John B shook his head. “It’s at the Chateau Kie.”

JJ leaned back, sarcastic as ever, “I wonder if the cops got that place staked out. Oh wait… they definitely have that place locked down.”

Kiara shot him a glare. “Yeah, thanks, JJ.”

Pope, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, went quiet for a moment before an idea popped into his head, "JJ," he said, his voice breaking the stillness of the car.

JJ snapped his head around, startled, as if he had been caught doing something wrong. His face twisted in confusion. "What?" he asked, his tone defensive.

Pope didn’t seem to notice JJ’s agitation. His excitement was palpable as he turned to look at him. "Does your dad still have that boat? The cigarette boat, the Phantom? The one he used to race?"

JJ clenched his jaw at the mention of his father. His heart skipped, and he immediately wished Pope had kept quiet. "Maybe," he said curtly, his voice low. He didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to think about it. But Pope’s words had unlocked something in his mind, something he couldn’t ignore.

Pope turned back toward the front of the car, clearly excited at the idea of what this could mean. "John B, you could get right up the coast, no problem. It's fast as hell. You wouldn’t have to worry about anyone catching you."

JJ felt a knot twist in his stomach at the suggestion. The last thing he wanted was to take something from his father, especially not something that felt so personal. The boat was more than just a piece of equipment—it was a symbol of everything he hated about his father. "Okay, Pope, look," JJ said slowly, his voice becoming more cautious. "It's not gonna be that easy."

Y/n, who had been watching the interaction, turned around from the backseat. "Okay, well, the surf’s running from, like, three to four," she said, trying to inject some logic into the situation.

JJ shook his head. "I don’t even know where the keys are," he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice.

Pope wasn’t deterred. "Well, find them," he said, his words almost like a command. "Just get us the boat. We’ll figure out the rest."

JJ’s nerves were starting to show now. He was trying to keep it together, but he was definitely starting to feel the pressure. "I’m thinking," he said, his words coming out a little more forcefully than he intended. "Just—just give me a second."

But Pope wasn’t having it. He was way too excited. "Why is nobody moving forward?" he asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

Kiara, who had been silent up until this point, sighed and turned around from the front seat. "Pope, can you relax?" she asked, exasperated. "JJ, how much weed did you give him?"

Before anyone could respond, John B, who had been lying down in the back seat, suddenly sat up and looked out the window. "Guys, your car’s on the poster," he said, his voice tense.

Everyone froze. Pope's hand instinctively reached for the horn, and suddenly the car was making noise, attracting even more attention from the people around them. A kid on the sidewalk pointed at the car excitedly, shouting, "Mom! Look, it’s that guy from the poster! Right there!"

"Asshole," Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes wide as the situation escalated further.

JJ’s head snapped back around to Pope. "Pope! Turn the car on," he snapped, trying to get their attention before it was too late.

"Drive!" John B and Kiara shouted almost simultaneously, and the chaos continued.

But as if things weren’t bad enough, a guy walked up to the car, looked inside, and started banging on the window. "Hey, he’s right there!" the man shouted. He pointed directly at John B, making the situation even worse.

Kiara, Y/n, and JJ were all screaming at Pope to drive, their voices filled with panic as the guy outside the car continued to shout. John B was trying to cover his face, but it was clear that they were about to get caught.

Just as the tension hit its peak, Officer Plumb, the deputy sheriff, appeared. He was walking toward the group, clearly alerted by the commotion.

"POPE!" Y/n screamed, desperate. "Just drive away!"

Pope, however, seemed to be on a different wavelength entirely. He slammed his foot on the gas, but he hit the pedal too hard and too quickly. The car shot forward and collided with the one in front of them. The sudden impact sent Kiara and Pope lurching forward, the seatbelts keeping them somewhat in place, while John B nearly toppled over his lying position.

JJ, who had been leaning toward Y/n, smashed into her side as the car jerked. He quickly sat up, his hands grabbing her as he tried to regain his balance. "Sorry, baby," he murmured, brushing a kiss against the side of her head. His heart was still racing, and the adrenaline from the chaos was making it hard to focus.

"Pope what the hell are you all doing?" Y/n shouted, clearly panicking as the car remained stuck.

"Back up, Pope!" Kiara shouted, her voice a mix of anger and panic.

Pope, realizing his mistake, slammed the car in reverse and backed up, the car jerking backward. JJ leaned out the window, shouting at the car behind them, "That’ll bump out!"

Kiara was still screaming from her seat next to Pope. "Pope, what the hell? You’re gonna get us killed!"

"Pope!" JJ yelled, looking over at him. "I should be the last one to tell you this, but you are not okay to drive, dude. Stop!"

Pope, apparently unfazed, slammed the brakes hard. "JB, get out," he ordered, a sudden sense of urgency taking over him.

Y/n leaned in, her voice low but filled with determination. "He’s right. We’ll draw the cops. You run."

"I’ll get the rig," JJ added quickly. "Meet me at the dump tomorrow, three o’clock. Okay?"

"Yeah," John B said, nodding as he opened the door and ran out of the car.

JJ shouted behind him, "Three! Tomorrow at the dump!"

As soon as John B was clear, the Pogues erupted into shouts, telling Pope to drive. Pope revved the engine and tore off into the night, the chaos of the situation slowly settling in the rearview mirror.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

JJ, Y/n, Kiara, and Pope had pulled up outside Tannyhill, standing in the cool evening air. The plan had been hastily thrown together, but they were all committed to whatever it took to clear John B’s name.

Y/n was the first to get out of the car, her movements slow and deliberate. As she closed the door, JJ immediately turned to her, his eyes filled with concern.

"Babe, you sure this is a good idea?" he asked, his voice low, almost protective. His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation.

Y/n turned to look at him, her gaze soft but resolute. "She’s the only one who can clear John B," she said firmly. "Plus, I need to see if she’s okay."

JJ didn’t look convinced, but he knew she was right. "Last place they’ll look because of how stupid it is," he said, trying to ease the tension.

Kiara got out the drivers seat, "Okay, I’ve got a plan," she said, with determination.

Pope, way too high, shot her a look. "A plan?" he asked, a small laugh escaping him. "Yeah, okay. Let’s do a plan." his enthusiasm grew more than apparent, "Yeah! Let’s plan. Let’s plan it out!" His voice was a little too excited, clearly amped up by something else.

Kiara raised an eyebrow and turned toward him. "Can you handle a plan right now?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Pope scoffed in reply, his face growing more animated. "Course I can handle a plan right now! I’m plan guy! I’m Mister Plan-o-matic!" He stood up in his seat, gesturing wildly, then started singing, "Thinkin' of a master plan, aye! Cause there ain't nothin-"

Kiara immediately shoved her hand over his mouth. "Shh!" she hissed, trying to get him to stop.

Meanwhile, JJ pulled Y/n to the side. He looked at her seriously, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Hey, are you sure you’re okay with being here? I mean, we can leave, right now, if you want. Just say the word, baby."

Y/n gave him a small smile, her eyes warm. "No, thanks, J. I’ll be fine. I mean, since I’m basically disowned and have never been acknowledged as one of his children, Ward would 100% kidnap me or whatever if he sees me just march up to the front door." She looked at him with a small laugh, but the seriousness in her voice was unmistakable. "He knows I’m on your guys’ side, and he knows I’d rat Rafe out if given the chance."

JJ pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly against his chest. "I just don’t want you getting hurt."

Before Y/n could respond, they heard Pope’s voice calling from the front. "Kiara, I love you," he said in a loud, sudden declaration.

JJ and Y/n froze, pulling away from each other as they realized what had just happened. The awkward silence that followed was almost unbearable. Kiara immediately denied Pope’s confession, but it was clear to everyone that the situation was more complicated than they wanted to admit.

JJ looked at Y/n, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. "Should we…?"

Y/n nodded quickly, her eyes wide. "Yes. Please."

The two of them hurried away from the awkward scene, walking toward a nearby tree to escape the tension.

As they reached the tree, Y/n smiled and pointed at the trunk. "This was my favorite tree as a kid," she said, her voice soft and nostalgic. "I used to come here to think when things got too much at home."

JJ nodded, looking up at the tree. He could see how much it meant to her, as she told him stories of her and her siblings making up games and treehouses up it.

As they stood there talking, Kiara and Pope continued their own conversation. But their voices seemed distant to Y/n and JJ. The moment felt calm and almost normal. So calm that Y/n didn’t notice JJ’s pocket knife in his hand against the tree as his gaze shifted between the tree and her.

The moment was interrupted when Kiara called out to them. "Come on, guys. We’ve got to go."

As they were walking towards an awkward Pope and Kiara, Y/n’s attention was drawn to a small carving on the tree. She smiled as she recognized the familiar letters. "J.M + Y/I" carved into the bark inside a heart.

She skipped up behind JJ, giving him a quick kiss on the back of his neck as she teased, "Aw, Maybank, you sweet on someone?"

JJ laughed, looking down at her. "Shut up."

Y/n smiled at the carving one last time before following Kiara.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

After the awkward moment with Pope and Kiara, they finally made their way over to Tannyhill, where Sarah’s window awaited. JJ and Y/n approached the side of the house carefully, making sure to stay out of sight.

Y/n climbed the tree to get to Sarah’s window, knocking lightly. Sarah, who had been lying in bed, jumped at the sight of her sister, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Y/n!" Sarah gasped, rushing to open the window.

They both tried to slide the window open, but it was stuck. After a few moments of effort, Y/n finally gave up. Instead, she held up John B’s wanted poster for Sarah to see.

Sarah looked at it, her mascara smudged from earlier, but she didn’t seem surprised. Y/n asked, her voice quieter now, "Are you in on it?"

Sarah shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Did you think I was?"

Y/n smiled back. "No."

The two of them shared a moment of silent understanding, and Sarah finally said, "Okay, what’s the plan?"

Y/n took a deep breath, her thoughts racing, but she knew exactly what needed to be done next.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

part nine done!!

i love bucky barnes

ALSO OMG IF ANYONE KNOWS HOW TO DO THAT COOL GRADIENT THING ON TEXT PLEASE TELL ME IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO IT BUT IDK HOW TO

remember, taglist and requests are open!! feel free to send me a dm or comment on literally anything and if you have any requests for this series or literally anything else send them in!!💞💞

taglist: @harryssideboobz @onelonelybitch @jeyramarie @snowtargaryen @agnxstic

[it-happened-one-fic]

Twisted Weddings: Photoshoot #7 - A Tie That Binds - Sebek

Summary: Your seventh photoshoot was with Sebek and seemed filled with surprises that were oddly soft and quiet considering the young man you were paired with. And after this one, there was just one more modeling session to go.

Type: Female reader/ 800 Followers Event/ Series/ sfw/ fluff/

Twisted Weddings Series Masterlist

Word count: 1686

I blinked in quiet surprise at Sebek, whose back was turned to me. But his outfit wasn’t what I’d expected by any means.

While all of the other grooms’ outfits had been variations on a classic suit, Sebek wore what looked like a simple button-up shirt, a well-fitted brown vest with matching slacks, and brown leather arm-bands whose sole purpose seemed to be accenting his bicep.

And even without being able to see his front, I could tell the outfit suited him well. It accentuated his broad shoulders and muscular physique but also stood at odds with his usual strait-laced clothes and made him appear a bit more relaxed.

And the best part of the whole thing? Crewel hadn’t let him gel his hair.

Instead, his minty green hair hung in soft waves that curled at the edges, softening his appearance and causing me to smile slightly.

He twisted, glancing back at me with a characteristic frown as his eyebrows arched judgmentally at me as I walked over. Idly realizing that I’d been staring at him this entire time even though I wasn’t about to fess up to it.

Though I did realize exactly how well matched he and I were until I came over to stand next to him.

  Just like how his outfit was a bit more relaxed, so was mine.

A flowy, cream-colored dress whose neckline and sleeves that barely cupped my shoulders were edged with leafy lace that matched the flower crown on my head.

It was a far cry from some of the more opulent dresses I’d worn, but there was a simple charm to it that fit the dark forest we currently stood in.

“Human. You’re late,” As per usual, Sebek’s voice had a touch of annoyance to it, though it was far softer than usual, as I glanced his way. A slight smile on my face as my gaze met his.

“Yeah, there was a bit of a struggle with the zipper,” His eyebrows rose at my words. Obviously unimpressed by my excuse, even though he didn’t comment on my lateness anymore.

But then, to be fair, we were both here to model these clothes, so an issue with said clothes was a perfectly good reason to be late.

I tilted my head at him, quietly voicing the question I’d had ever since I’d seen his picture among the group of groom models, “So why did you decide you wanted to model bridal clothes?”

He outright snorted at my words, an oddly smug grin crossing his face that had my eyebrows arching at him, “I had no care to do any such thing but….”

He frowned slightly, almost as if he were confused, before shaking his head, “Lilia said it would be an enriching experience and encouraged both me and Silver to vie for a position.”

I blinked, half-surprised that Silver had lost before I shrugged lightly. I supposed that in some ways doing some modeling could be enriching. 

But I didn’t see how it really could be for Sebek. It wasn’t like he’d never worn suits.

It was my understanding that he was a part of the Valley of Thorns elite, and he was, at the very least, training to be a knight for Malleus, the future heir to the Valley of Thorns throne.

I had no doubt that Sebek had already worn suits before, and he’d probably posed for images as well. 

Even his school uniform was oddly formal looking, and he wore it similarly well to the way he wore his current outfit, although there was a definite difference between the two looks.

While the Diasomnia dorm uniform was more strict-looking in a way that did fit Sebek’s overall behavior, his current outfit was more easygoing and open in a way that actually suited Sebek’s general honesty. Even if his honesty often came across as blunt at best and rude at worst.

“How did you come to be one of the models?” I almost laughed at his words, feeling myself grin at this entire photoshoot situation before I ever even met his gaze.

“Crewel approached me. I’m actually the only one modeling the wedding dresses save for those that will be worn on the runway,” I shook my head slightly at the ridiculousness of it all before I grinned at the face Sebek was making. Blatant surprise as he blinked down at me rapidly as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

And it was a fight to not nudge him playfully as I teased him, “What? You don’t think I make a nice bride?”

His reaction was almost immediate as he somehow managed to straighten further from his already straight-backed posture. Taking the bait even as I grinned at him and braced to cover my ears.

“I- PREPOSTEROUS! I know for a fact that you are not a model!” I lowered my hands, giggling as Crewel whipped around with an annoyed expression that managed to, against all odds, quiet Sebek so that he continued at a more normal volume, “How did you come to be so sought after, human?” 

His tone was almost accustory but I was hardly insulted. At this point, I was used to Sebek’s antics, and I snorted at his words, shaking my head slightly, “I would hardly say I’m ‘sought after.’ It isn’t like there are people knocking down my door. Crewel just asked me to be his model. I don’t really know why.”

I explained calmly, but everything I said was true. I still didn’t know why Crewel had asked me to be his model, beyond the little bit he told me at the outset. But I’d agreed anyway. It wasn’t like it could really hurt after all, and who knew if I’d ever have the chance to wear such nice clothes again?

Sebek frowned at me, silently watching me as I glanced down at the long dress I wore. A slight smile on my face until he spoke. His voice miraculously still at a normal volume, “I suppose you’re doing a suitable job then.”

I blinked, my eyes widening as I glanced his way only to find him looking towards our teacher, who started speaking mere seconds later. Giving me no time to question the young man or his words.

“We’re going to be using the tradition of the handfasting ceremony for the theme of this photoshoot. So you two hold hands, and I’ll tie the cords,” Crewel was nonchalant as he walked over, holding a braided cord of green and white.

Obediently I held out my hand, and Sebek took it in his notably rougher one as I eyed the cord Crewel was wrapping around our hands in confusion before I glanced between my professor and the young man next to me, surrendering to my own curiosity, “What's the handfasting ceremony?”

Sebek answered before Crewel could, his eyes staying on the cords wrapped around our joined hands as he spoke, “It’s an ancient engagement or betrothal ritual. It shows the binding of two lives and the unity between the couple.”

Crewel continued, stepping back and eyeing his handwork, as he finished Sebek’s explanation while I glanced down at the braided cord, “Now it’s often incorporated as a part of wedding ceremonies due to its symbolism.”

I nodded slightly before glancing back over at Crewel as he rested a hand on my shoulder, “I want the two of you to face each other for this image. Y/n, you go ahead and rest your hand on top of the tie. Sebek, you put your hand on top of theirs.”

We did as instructed as Crewel withdrew, and I felt myself frown slightly, “Where do you want us to look?”

Crewel glanced back at the photographer, who was already in position, and the other man shrugged, peeking out from over his camera at us, “Maybe at each other or your hands? Either should be good.”

I nodded before twisting back towards Sebek and looking at him only to find him still eyeing our hands. And distantly, as I looked at the way he silently gazed at our hands with a both thoughtful and almost fascinated expression, I wondered if this was a Valley of Thorns tradition.

Would Sebek complete a handfasting when he became engaged, or did this ceremony hold some other, possibly even deeper meaning for him? If it did, he didn’t really show it other than the way his gaze remained locked on our hands, and I felt myself smile slightly at his silent demeanor that was so at odds with his usual loudness.

And it was odd; normally I would never think of him, or any of the other guys, getting married or in any way related to a wedding, but lately that was the only thing I could really consider.

A curious side effect of these photoshoots, I supposed.

The camera clicked, and, after another moment of silence, Crewel spoke up, “Good. That just leaves one more dress.”

I blinked, half-surprised that we were already done, and I almost missed Sebek looking up and blinking at me in momentary surprise as if he’d just been roused from a dream.

Crewel unbound our hands, and I silently let go of Sebek’s hand. And it was odd to lose that warmth that had come from his surprisingly steady palm, rough from years of practicing swordplay.

I glanced his way only to find him looking at his hand before slowly, and purposefully, curling his fingers in his palm and meeting my gaze, “I must return to Lord Malleus now.”

I nodded, surprised that he was telling me where he was going even as I murmured a soft assent before he turned on his heel. Leaving me and Crewel staring after him. And I almost missed the slightly amused smile on Crewel’s face as the teacher looked my way, “I hope you're ready for the next one. It’ll be a video.”

I frowned at him slightly, fighting the urge to tilt my head.

Either way, though, I’d learn exactly what all a video shoot would involve tomorrow, when it came.

If you would like to read more:

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[kraftykelpie]

Rebellion era Cody, how I visualized him during his bounty hunting days, before and during being with Obi-Wan(based off the fic series called "codywan on tatooine" by Serie11)

Edit: ao3 author is here! Credit where credit is due @oathkeeperoxas

[aurynsia]

what would be the life after hogwarts for james and reader? i can just imagine james thinking of the best ring he could give reader to ask her to marry him, or even like thinking of where they should live in.

Life After Hogwarts

James Potter x Reader

Summary: James won’t settle for anything less than perfect for his perfect girl...

Warnings: Intense fluff, Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, James is just a good hearted rich boy who wants the best for his partner <3

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for the request! I wrote this as a sequel to this series, but it can just as easily be read as a stand alone oneshot. Enjoy!

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Pads, please focus here. This is serious!”

“No, I’m Sirius, born and raised! Are you sure you aren’t feeling lightheaded, Prongs?”

James and Sirius stood bent over the cabinet of delicate rings, the latter struggling to free himself from a ring size too small. James huffed in frustration, brows furrowed in contemplation as he glanced across the display one last time.

“None of them feel right, I’m telling you! We‘ll just have to find somewhere else, she won’t like how flashy all of these diamonds are,” James sulked and grumbled as Sirius finally eased the ring off of his nimble finger.

“Prongs, this is the fifth jeweller we’ve been to in the past four hours. Merlin, the sun is already setting and you haven’t even considered a single one of the more than acceptable rings we’ve looked at!”

Sirius scrambled to chase James out of the store, pace quickened along the damp concrete of the sidewalk.

“It needs to be perfect, she’s perfect. I will settle for no less.” James held his head high, nose turned upwards at the raven haired boy who grew visibly sluggish with every step.

Sirius groaned, only following his bespectacled friend for another quick moment before James stopped abruptly at a pawn shop window, eyes bursting wide with hope.

The ring in the window shone elegantly against the store’s harsh light. The metal twisted and turned in a smooth curve that was sure to make your skin glow radiantly in contrast. It was understated, with only the minor details in the engravings making a quiet display of the mountain of money James was about to spend.

“That’s the one. It’s perfect.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The cool breeze wrapped around the Potter’s summer house with ease, pressing against your skin to form goosebumps along the soft surface.

James had been acting strangely all day, almost avoiding you at every turn of the house’s walls like his life depended on it. He fiddled with his fingers, stuttered out his words and blushed at every subtle sound of amusement you made.

Finally relaxing into your side, James sheltered you from the wind with his body on his family’s beach-side deck. Your evening beverage was pressed between your legs, freeing your hands to run soothing circles over your boyfriend’s back.

His eyes clenched shut, head growing wrinkles as he sought his trademark courage that seemed to all but disappear the moment you were near.

Slowly, tentatively, he lifted his body from your warmth, flashing you a sympathetic smile to compensate for the absolute fool he was about to make of himself.

“Love, I- you mean the world to me…” he turned to face you. “These past years with you have made for some of the happiest moments I’ve ever experienced…” he shifted to lift up onto his knees, gazing down at your curious expression.

“I love you so, so much. I loved you when I first met you, the shy girl on the Hogwarts express. I loved you when we started dating, all smiles over candle lit dinners, and…” He moved again, down on one knee. “I want to keep loving you when you marry me.”

You gasped at the genuine glaze of his soft brown eyes, his lean towards your stationary body, and the ring sat in his grasp, shrouded by a velvet box.

He coughed slightly at the awkward atmosphere, repeating himself with clarity. “Will you…marry me?”

“Godric, James- yes!”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Fleamont Potter was showering his son with engagement gifts. James never had any reason to complain about his family or economic situation, and to say he grew up comfortably would be a drastic understatement.

House hunting was James’ first protocol after his successful proposal. He had patiently listened to you ramble about your dream house for years, trying to stay focused under your captivating gaze and endearing energy. Big windows, lots of light, and a burning fireplace.

That’s exactly what James was searching for as he strolled down the streets of Godric’s Hollow. He had inspected every single house he could find, taken or not. The day was wearing out, washing lines already dried under the subtle summer heat.

His gaze fell in a wave of sluggish fatigue, only to be snapped open by the sight of a Southern-style mansion positioned right on the edge of Godric’s Hollow, towering over the sidewalk. The house was decorated with shutters and balconies, as well as a small red sign in the front yard.

FOR SALE.

He rushed to the front door, conveniently propped open. “It’s a beautiful place, really, but we’re after something a little more…modern.” A family glided past James in a pack, concluding what he could only assume to be a tour of the house.

The estate agent fixed his tie as he bid farewell to the family, promising something about searching closer to the city the following week. He spun around to find James gawking eagerly at the front door, before clearing his throat to gain the young Potter’s attention.

“Would you like a tour?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James flashed you a smug smile as you gazed in awe at the intricate architecture of your new townhouse. You were perched on the front lawn, tucked into James’ side with his hand on the small of your back.

“It’s so beautiful…” you mused wistfully, gaze drawn to the rustic tiles on the roof like sunflowers to the sun. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, I mean- this must have been an absolute pain to buy…” you finally tilted your gaze to see James peering over you, a lovesick longing painted on his features.

“Love, my father knows people - too many to count - who were more than happy to help with this little engagement gift,” he chuckled, eyes still locked on yours. “When I saw this house for the first time…it was calling your name. Our names.”

The house was big enough to hold a few kids and some small pets - clearly too big for just you and James, but he hoped that your family would fill it out in the coming years. There needed to be room for at least one big black dog.

Still uncertain, you gave James a sceptical look. “It was no trouble, really.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he drove you through the open door by your shoulders.

You stumbled through each room, captivated by the warmth in every corner you turned to. James was hot on your heels, guiding you by your waist every now and then to show you specific features of the kitchen, the bathrooms and the already decorated master bedroom.

You jumped onto the bed with glee, warmth engulfing you under your body.

“Jamie…it’s perfect…” you mused, eyes shut as you felt the bed dip with your Fiancée’s weight, who shifted to kiss your forehead with care.

“You’re perfect, love.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[thef1diary]

Baby Jr | Two

— Intimate Indulgence

Series Masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected sex (that’s expected at this point), oral, fingering, choking, degradative terms, spanking, praise kink go brr.

wc: 4k (pure smut btw, enjoy 🤭)

Carlos easily gave in to your pull by falling forward, his hands finding your waist and giving a little squeeze while his foot kicked the door shut behind him. He pulled you closer, your lips lightly brushing his for a moment in experimentation before pressing together with more confidence.

Your hands trailed up into his hair finding a few strands still damp from his shower. You smiled against his lips, knowing that he stopped by his own hotel room before coming to yours and acting as if he had nowhere else to go.

His fingertips danced underneath the hem of your shirt, coming in contact with your bare supple skin. Your head tilted back once he gave you a chance to breathe but the trail of kisses he began leaving down your neck stole your breath away again.

Your skin lit ablaze with every touch he provided after depriving you for what felt like ages. The little friendly touches here and there every day for the last couple of months frustrated you endlessly.

You almost wanted to scream at him, tell him to get on with it but you couldn’t, no, not when he was murmuring compliments in your ear, calling you a good girl for being so responsive.

“You couldn’t have come a few minutes earlier? I just put my clothes on,” you couldn’t help but murmur, earning a low chuckle in response with a small nip on your shoulder in retaliation.

“I’ll help you take it all off,” he spoke against your skin, feeling your pulse quicken underneath his lips.

Your hands roamed his body, feeling every ridge of muscle you could reach on his back that you had been shamelessly ogling earlier. Right underneath your fingertips, barely just grazing the skin hidden beneath his shirt with your nails, you earned a low groan from him.

He squeezed your hips again as an indication before slightly picking up the speed of his actions. Pressing a seemingly innocent peck to his lips, he used that moment to reach lower to rest his hands below your ass before picking you up, earning a gasp from you. Further using that gasp as an invitation to deepen the kiss, Carlos slightly pulled on your bottom lip, barely teasing it with his teeth before letting go.

You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind as he began to walk further inside the room.

His palms now resting just a few centimeters shy away from your ass to hold you up—which he could’ve easily done with one hand—he grazed his thumb back and forth, bunching up your shorts even higher as he left no space between your bodies.

Your lips trailed down his neck, sucking a tad more harshly before peppering the spot in light kisses, knowing that it’ll turn into a noticeable mark later on.

In the heat of the moment, briefly forgetting the risk for the pleasure, neither of you thought of the consequences that may arise from visible marks.

Carlos sat on the edge of the bed, causing you to meet his hips firmly as you straddled him. He pulled your hips even closer, urging you to grind on him while claiming your lips once again.

You gasped against his mouth as he lifted his own hips to catch you by surprise, “fuck me, please,” you muttered.

Carlos was tempted to take off your shirt because a slight movement from you shifted the neckline, revealing a peek of your shoulder. He was quick to place his lips against the bare skin.

Once again, his hands trailed beneath your shirt and pulled it up further to take it off. “As you wish.”

He threw it aside, not giving the item of clothing any thought as his eyes swept over your nude upper body. He put one hand on your lower back, and you shuddered, perhaps from the warmth of his fingers or from his encouragement to keep moving your hips against his.

Lost in the pleasure pulsing throughout your body, a gasp left your mouth when you clenched your thighs because his other hand rested on the base of your throat.

Sliding his palm down the front of your body, he barely grazed over your nipples, taking an extra moment to tease them, causing a whine to leave your throat. “Carlos,” you cried, tilting your head back while your eyes closed in frustration.

The moment he turned you over and placed you on the bed, you believed that he had finally shown pity for your neediness. Kneeling over you, he single handedly removed his shirt, before moving on to his belt. You sat up, planting a trail of filthy kisses down his chest as your fingers replaced his on his belt because you were itching to do it for him.

“You’ve been teasing me for ages, cariño,” he reasoned, as if to justify why he hasn’t nearly given you enough attention just yet.

“Me? You’re the one that kept finding excuses to talk to me, to touch me.” You draw him closer by pulling on the band of his pants, enabling him to lean over you without placing any weight against you since he braced himself with his forearm positioned next to your head.

“Can I?” He asks while glancing down at your shorts for a moment. His fingers follow his gaze, trailing down your chest to your stomach, resting on the hem of your shorts.

You inhale deeply while nodding but he shook his head, almost disappointed, “I need words.”

A whimper threatened to leave your mouth as you saw him move his hands to pull away. You quickly placed your hands over his, pulling them back onto your waist.

Finding your words, you consented, “touch me all you want, Carlos, please, the winner gets what he wants.”

He smirked, reminded of his win that led to this need to act on his desires. He hooked his fingers on the band of your shorts, finally dragging them down before tossing the piece of cloth away like he did to your shirt.

Moving down your body, he laid between your legs, facing you after he pulled them apart further. Despite still having a flimsy material covering your pussy, he could still see the outline of your lips due to how your wetness caused your panties to stick to your pussy.

“A few kisses and you’re already soaked?” He lightly chuckled at your futile attempt of raising your hips when one of his fingers slid down over your panties, grazing your protruding covered clit.

“All for you,” you responded, trying to coax him into touching you again with nothing but the truth.

He lowered himself and you could feel his breath fanning against you, then he slowly placed open mouth kisses on your inner thighs. Your head dropped back, resting on the bed with your eyes fluttering shut as he neared the spot you wanted him the most.

His hands rested on your thighs to keep your legs apart while he continued to tease you.

“I want to taste you.”

His words caused you to tilt your head to look at him, your gaze instantly connecting with his since he was already looking at you.

You knew right then that you would do anything he asked if he kept looking at you with those round, dark brown eyes.

Nodding, you muttered, “please.” You raised your hips as he hooked his fingers in the flimsy material, quickly sliding it down and removing it completely.

Reaching a hand past your head, he grabbed a pillow before shifting further down the bed until his knees rested on the floor and he was kneeling in front of your spread legs. He left the pillow beside you as he wrapped his hands around your thighs, earning a startled gasp from you when he pulled you closer to the edge, towards his warm mouth.

“Up,” he ordered, placing the pillow beneath your ass to raise your hips higher.

You watched his movements carefully, biting your lip in anticipation as he brought two of his fingers to his mouth, licking them before placing it on your outer lips. He pulled the fingers outwards, spreading you open for him and watching as you desperately clench on nothing but air.

Sticking out the tip of his tongue, he lightly pressed it against your protruding clit, earning a sharp inhale from you. Flattening his tongue, he dipped it between your folds to gather a bit of your wetness before dragging it upwards, stimulating your clit for the first time that night.

Focusing solely on your clit for now, he softly moved his tongue in a circular motion, pausing and pulling away to see more creamy wetness gathering between your lips, all on display for him as his fingers still held you spread apart.

Pursing his lips, he gathered a bit of saliva in his mouth before dropping it onto your clit, watching as it slowly slid down in between your lips adding to the slick already formed.

Lapping at your pussy and giving a few experimental licks first to gather your taste in his mouth, he moaned against your folds, sending a shiver up your spine at the added vibration.

“Mm, you taste so sweet.” He parted away from you for now, connected only by a string of saliva from your pussy to his mouth which broke away when he licked his lips.

His fingers followed the trail of his spit, slipping his fingers into your hole one by one until he had worked three fingers down to the last knuckle. You arched your back at the sudden added sensations.

“S’good for me,” he commented, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure from both his fingers and his words praising you.

While increasing the pace of his fingers moving inside you, he peppered kisses all over your inner thighs, catching you by surprise when he nipped at your skin.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, dampening the sound of your moans to your own ears but it was like music to his.

He grabbed your right leg and tossed it over his shoulder, preventing you from fully closing your legs and giving him the ability to touch you in any way he pleased.

His skilled fingers brushed against your insides in such a pleasurable way that almost clouded your vision with stars. He was able to reach deeply in places that you never could with your own fingers.

Your thigh twitches while your palms close around the sheets above your head as you near your release. “Carlos,” you murmur, his name becoming one of the very few things you remembered.

“Gonna cum for me?” He asked, placing his mouth over your clit, sucking harshly that made you raise your hips while a cry left your lips.

You weren’t able to form a word much less a sentence but he could tell by the pitch of your moans that you just needed something more to push you over the edge.

Sticking out the tip of his tongue, he repeatedly flicked your clit until you were writhing in pleasure.

“Go on, cum all over my fingers,” he permitted, curving his finger in the right spot that had you obeying him in seconds.

He continued thrusting his fingers in and out as you coated them with your cum, slowing down just a bit to prolong your release. Carlos greedily lapped up every drop that left you, enamored and addicted to your taste.

Pulling his fingers out, he licked your pussy from your entrance up to your clit once more, earning a cry releasing from your lips. “Ah- fuck, baby.”

He moved away only when you began squirming, that too with the corners of his lips turned up in a smirk.

Breathing heavily, you looked at him, noticing his lips and chin glistening with your slick but your eyes widened once he placed those same fingers in his mouth that were just in you moments ago, sucking them clean.

Your pussy still pulsed at his gesture, feeling a tad too empty. You knew you needed more, especially since you could see his bulge straining behind his boxers which quickly turned your bubble of arousal into desperation. You didn’t notice when he discarded his pants, adding it to the growing pile of clothes but you were glad he did.

Carlos placed lingering kisses trailing up your body. On your hips and stomach, then flattening his tongue and dragging up until he reached your chest. Placing two firm lingering kisses on your nipples that had you threading your fingers through his hair at the suction of his lips, he faced you while holding himself above your body. With his gaze still on your chest, he lightly blew air on them, hardening your already pert nipples at the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive, so responsive.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him lower until he rested his weight on you.

“That is such a bad habit of yours,” he murmured, his gaze now focusing on your lips.

“What is?” You asked innocently, blinking a few times in quick succession as your hand traveled to the nape of his neck.

“This,” he brings his hand to your chin, fingers pulling your lip free from being bitten between your teeth. Then he added, “it makes me want to kiss you every time you do it.”

Tilting your head closer, your gaze connected with his for a moment before you looked down at his soft lips, licking your own before responding, “maybe you should.”

He took your words as an invitation to claim your lips with his own, enveloping your lower lip in the heat of his mouth. Your hands trailed upwards into his hair again, lightly pulling at it as you responded with just as much force and passion.

His fingers brushed against your cheek, moving lower to grip your chin with his thumb and index finger, asserting dominance as he guided you through the kiss.

Moving even lower, his hand followed the curve of your throat as his palm rested on the base while his fingers pressed into the sides, earning a hum from your mouth.

This time, as you grazed your nails down his back there wasn’t any barrier of clothing in between. You dragged your hands as low as you could, almost able to touch the hem of his boxers that you desperately wanted to remove.

“Off,” you spoke, frustration lacing your tone.

He breathed in the lingering scent of your shower gel now mixed with a layer of sweat in the crook of your neck. “Then take it off, cariño.”

Loosening your legs wrapped around his waist, you began using your feet to shove the thin layer of fabric down that was keeping a part of his body that you couldn’t wait to touch and feel inside you hidden away.

You had gotten the band of his boxers down to his thighs, and he moved away to slide the material off his body before quickly aligning his body against yours again.

You mumbled against his lips but he couldn’t make out the words, so he moved an inch away to allow you to speak while his hand returned to where it had found a spot on your throat. “What was that?”

“Fuck me, Carlos, fuck me good,” you repeated, earning a small grin from him while his grip tightened on your throat.

“On your hands and knees,” he commanded, releasing his grip.

You turned over, arching your back while looking over your shoulder to entice him, earning a slap on your ass in return. You moaned, a satisfying smile painting on your lips. Shuffling onto your knees while reaching your arms outwards that brought your upper body closer to the mattress, you stuck your ass in the air.

“Do that again,” you muttered but you furrowed your brows when the hit never came. Looking back again, you saw a stern expression overtaking his usual smirk. He placed his palms on your cheeks, spreading them for a moment but before it could turn into anything more, he dropped his hands to his sides.

“Are you ordering me around now?” He asked with a raised brow, and your lips parted as you realized your mistake.

Slowly shaking your head in denial and your hips to the side to convince him, you tried again, “please do that again.”

He listened to your pleas, slapping your ass once again on the same spot as earlier before taking you by surprise and bringing his palm down on your other cheek. “Good girl, don’t forget your manners, darling.”

Kneeling on the bed behind you, Carlos’ body heat engulfed you, providing a brief blanket of comfort over you completely contrasting your thoughts and anticipation, knowing that he wouldn’t bestow any mercy upon you while he fucked your pussy.

Running his fingers down your slit, he spread your folds apart before sliding his hardened cock to replace his fingers, coating it in your wetness. Your balance faltered for a moment causing you to fall forward when his tip touched your clit, sending a burst of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Look at that, you’re already trying to clench around me, baby,” he muttered, watching your folds flutter around his cock as it tried to coax it inside you.

Inching backwards, you rubbed your ass against his cock, earning a low groan from him. “Carlos, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will scream,” you half heartedly threatened but he just chuckled.

“You will still scream even when I fuck you.”

“Then prove it,” you shot back.

Without a warning, Carlos slid his cock in you while one of his hands rested on your hip to prevent you from falling forward again. You muttered a curse, dragging out the last syllable as your eyes rolled back at the initial feeling.

His other hand trailed up your body, leaving featherlight touches on the length of your back. Wrapping his fingers around your hair, he pulled until your head tilted up and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. He could only wish he had chosen a better position to see your reaction, but he imagined it to the best of his ability aided by the sweet sounds you let out.

“You have to stop clenching so hard, cariño, I can’t move,” he muttered in your ear, pressing light kisses on the crook of your neck, earning an audible exhale from you.

When he moved to continue sliding inside, your eyes widened, “you’re not fully in yet?”

He let out a sound in denial, “a little more.” Once fully settled inside, he paused, breathing out while his eyes were squeezed shut, “you feel so good, such a perfect, tight cunt,” he mumbled, and the praise had you clenching around him involuntarily.

“Please move,” you spoke while lightly pushing back, moaning as you felt him a tad deeper even if it was for a brief moment. He pulled back, leaving the warmth of your cunt and a whimper left your mouth as you only felt his tip remaining inside, mouth dropping open once he thrusted forward; this time with more force.

His fingers pressed into your hips and you couldn’t care less even after knowing that you would likely see his fingerprints marked onto your skin the next morning. Releasing his grip on your hair, he settled on grasping onto your shoulder to guide his thrusts at a steady pace.

“Go on, tell everyone on the floor who’s fucking you senseless.” He spat, only then making you realize the volume of the moans leaving your mouth, echoing throughout the hotel room along with the sound of skin slapping on skin. It was lewd, but you couldn’t help but arch your back further as you began to lose yourself within the pleasure.

He chuckled once you covered your mouth with your hands in an attempt to muffle your moans, your balance stumbling as your weight was now only held up by one arm. “No? You don’t want to tell them what a fucking slut you are for me? How easy it is to get your pussy soaking wet.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeated, unable to keep your hand on your mouth as you fisted the sheets in your palms. Feeling you clench around him over and over again, he knew you were getting close to your release.

Pulling out of you for a quick second, that still earned a cry escaping past your lips, he flipped you onto your back and thrusted in your pussy again. Now that you were face to face, he couldn’t waver his gaze away from your expressions.

Your eyes fluttered shut once he hiked up your leg on his waist, able to thrust deeper. Holding onto his shoulders to ground yourself, he moaned as he felt your nails digging into his skin.

“Please,” you mumbled, feeling so close that you felt like you were going to explode with frustration if he stopped. Fortunately, he continued the brutal pace of his thrusts and placed his thumb on your clit, creating small circular motions that had you crying out loud.

It felt like you had melted into the bed once your orgasm washed over you. He leaned closer, allowing you to wrap your arms around him while he continued fucking into you to chase his own release.

With your lips grazing his ear, your next words sent him over the edge, “please, Carlos, cum in me.”

He groaned as he came, attempting to muffle it as much as he could into the crook of your neck. A blurry haze clouded your vision and only when the tear fell, you had realized that you had cried in pleasure while chasing the feeling of your high, wanting it to last as long as possible.

You felt his cum painting your insides, unintentionally clenching that caused Carlos to let out another groan. “Do that again and I’ll never pull out,” he mumbled, only half joking since your cunt’s warmth was too inviting.

Wrapping your other leg around his waist to keep him inside you for a little longer, you responded, “that doesn’t sound too bad.”

He lifted his head, watching your tired out expression, the activities of the day finally catching up to you. He pressed a kiss against your cheek after wiping away your tears, moving on to your forehead and then claimed your lips with his.

He licked into your mouth, earning a guttural groan from you. Your legs had fallen to the side, not having enough strength to hold them up any longer.

Hissing when he pulled out, you let out a sharp gasp as he lightly spread your pussy to watch his cum mixed with yours leak out and stain the sheets underneath. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he muttered, mainly to himself as he gathered your mixed cum onto his fingers.

Your mouth dropped open as he brought his coated fingers near your mouth, sticking out your tongue to greedily suck them clean. He pressed another kiss on your cheek in appreciation, “such a good girl.”

Then, his lips grazed your ear, “I’ll go grab a towel.”

Only leaving the bed once you nodded, he quickly entered the bathroom and smiled once he saw his reflection in the mirror. His neck was covered in marks and his shoulders were covered in scratches left behind by your nails. Although he didn’t check, he knew that his back would’ve been in the same state.

Quickly returning to you, he cleaned you up and tossed the cum stained cloth on the floor among the other pieces of your clothing. You had a sleepy smile on your face during the entire process, mumbling a “congratulations on the win,” once he was hovering over you again.

“Thank you, cariño, I hope there will be many more to come.” Placing one last lingering kiss to your lips, he shuffled off the bed and began redressing himself.

You didn’t know when he left, as you had already fallen asleep while he was still in the room. He walked away with a satisfied smile on his face while removing the keycard belonging to his hotel room from the back pocket of his jeans, now assured that your room could in fact fit two people.

Taglist OPEN: @xoscar03 @pierregazly @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @lilymurphy03 @the-ghost-lovwr @ilovethefruits @lewlew44 @luvvtrent @hc-dutch @fwhore1 @khaylin27 @lillyssh-tposts @thatgirlmj @ladyoflynx @tcfanmania @customsbyjcg-blog @sltwins @nonstopbookworm @glitterquadricorn @charizznorizz @mrs-bunny @moonliightbabes @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @teamnovalak @formula1mount @gaviymarcsbride @gotthemilk-69 @bwormie @llando4norris @ellesssssxzxz @arian-directioner @lou-bean28 @depressedgiftedburnout @halleest @amberpanda99 @borapsycho @cosmoscoffeee @mycenterfold @67-angelofthelordme-67 @sugarvibez @mehrmonga @aadu2173 @bokutos-babyowl @teenwolf01 @presidentdangdang @mrswolffs-blog @amyfelix14 @seasonswinter @amalialeclerc @amandadesantasworld @ystrolllll @xisab @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @pedrohoe04 @yagirlhayes @jadaaasworld @mmack23 @shimmermotorsport @darleneslane @mderby03 @jinimon-tr @landoslutmeout @xjval

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me | Series Index

graphic made for me by the gorgeous @writingsbychlo 💕

Summary: Set in Illyria when the Bat Boys are mere twenty-year-olds, Azriel has never explored intimacy and sex like his closest friends have. Reader is more than willing to help — not realising it will offset a series of events that will change life as they know it.

Series warnings: This series is strictly 18+, minors dni. There’s smut, violence, gore, trauma. Read with caution and take care 🫶🏻

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen (Finale)

Bonus Part (Fin x Reader)

The Practice On Me Playlist

Songs I had on repeat while writing this series, for anyone who’s interested!

Sit Down Beside Me by Patrick Watson

From The Start by Laufey

New Girl by FINNEAS

We Go Down Together by Dove Cameron & Khalid

February 3rd by Jorja Smith

She by Harry Styles

Angry Too by Lola Blanc

Afterthought by Joji & BENEE

Faded by Alan Walker

The Summoning by Sleep Token

Therefore I Am by Billie Eilish

Play With Fire by Sam Tinnesz & Yacht Money

Samurai Swords - Acoustic Version by Highasakite

My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

THE LONELIEST by Måneskin

King by Florence + The Machine

The Practice On Me Face Claims

A look at how I imagined our younger ACOTAR characters looked through this series (and my original characters)!

Azriel:

Rhysand:

Cassian:

Kaeda:

Mor:

Roza:

Fin:

[lovelyhan]

— game over ⟢

a minwon streamer au!

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x afab!reader x mingyu

★ STATUS; ongoing

★ TAGS; streamer/gamer au, eventual poly, enemies to fuck buddies to lovers (wonu), friends to lovers (gyu), in denial wonu and gyu, sex tapes, angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; i honestly should've made a masterlist for this little passion project a long time ago, but since we're finally introducing gyu into the mix, might as well do it now :^) it feels nice to finally pick up a series i started in january lol

— main story ✧

✧ one: underlying pretense ✧

word count: 10.3k words

summary: being two of the most popular streamers across the board, your subscribers often speculate if your constant bickering with wonwoo has some underlying pretense. little did they know, the two of you have everything on display on a single, unsuspecting twitter account. 

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers but it’s the thought that counts, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, smut

✧ two: favorite poison ✧

word count: 15.5k words

summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it’s in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he’s nothing if not stubbornly competitive.

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut

✧ three: caught in the middle ✧

word count: 15.8k words

summary: mingyu knows. he’s perfectly aware that his best friend’s girlfriend is the last person he should end up wanting. but who is he to refuse when wonwoo invites him to join something he never thought he could ever be part of?

tags: established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining (or is it!!!), lots of guilt-ridden thoughts, fluff, angst, smut

✧ four: too much of a good thing ✧

word count: 15.6k words

summary: contentment is something that mingyu has never really struggled with. he basks in what he's given and doesn't really ask for more. but when the lines start to blur between him and everyone's favorite power couple, he arrives at quite an impasse.

tags: established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining (or is it!!!), fluff, mild angst, smut

✧ five: coming soon! ✧

— side stories ✧

⤷ 02:35 | bf!wonwoo getting jealous over some cosplay sent by your fans and sponsors

if you want to be tagged in the upcoming installments for the main story, leave a reply! however, if you already signed up for my permanent taglist, you'll be automatically tagged in all my full length fics <3

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura

Summary: This was supposed to be a Rhysand x Reader Calanmai One Shot and boy oh boy did it spiral into a whole, multi chapter AU fic 🤷🏼‍♀️ It’s now a what if Rhys’s mate was someone other than Feyre and they both end up Under the Mountain together fic

Content Warnings: Eventual Smut, Some Suggestiveness because Rhys is here, I mean look at him everyone wants that male; canon typical violence, UTM. Each chapter will have listed content warnings.

Part Two is here

————————————————————————-

“Stay inside, away from the windows. Make sure the doors are locked.” It’s the same speech every year, the same frantic, worried rant about staying away from those types of parties and the trouble they could bring. Never mind that you’re an adult, have been for awhile, and are perfectly capable of making the decision on your own and had decided years ago that Calanmai wasn’t really your scene. A party in a library sure, but an outdoor orgy in what was basically the High Lord of Spring’s backyard was about as opposite of you as you could get.

“I’ll be in the attic, organizing my books,” you swear and your uncle’s graying head bobs with a heavy sigh of relief as he shuts the door. Some of the livestock have gone missing--most likely the result of several visiting fae whose scene definitely is Calanmai--but he couldn’t make complaints to the High Lord until he was sure they hadn’t simply wandered out of the padlock on their own. He’s taking all three of the farmhands with him, leaving you alone in the house.

It would be a blissful couple of days. The house quiet. You plan to make tea and practice the new bread recipe you’d found tucked into one of your carefully preserved books from two centuries before. You’ve accumulated quite a collection of things in the years of your uncle’s ceaseless wandering. He’s never stayed anywhere long.

If you could focus on it, that is.

Calanmai might have never been your scene, but it did something to you every year you couldn’t explain. It had started a couple years ago; a strange whispering on the wind at first, a voice begging you to “Come. Come and see.”  The next year, after being ignored the voice had come with phantom drum beats, an echo of the ones that would sometimes crest the hill between your farmhouse and the High Lord’s estate; the voice more urgent, the drum beats like a pulse in your skull. The following year the visions started. You’d go to sleep and find yourself drifting through the air, wings beating above you, shadowy hands holding you as you flew over the bonfires and beating drums, bodies writhing and merging beneath you, before depositing you in the darkness of what you could only describe as some sort of ancient cave. When you’d woken up you found yourself half way up the hill in your sleep clothes, unsure of how you’d even gotten out of the house. You’d never mentioned it to your uncle, he was prone to worry, but it was becoming clearer and clearer every year that there was something out there that wanted you out on Calanmai. True to form, you’d started hearing the drum beats upon waking this morning, their beat a steady pulse in your temples.

Still, whatever beckons, you're not interested in meeting. You’d seen a couple priestesses and gotten a sleeping tonic that would knock you out for the night, all you needed to do was pass the time until nightfall, take the tonic, and in the morning, all would be right again. Never mind the ache in your chest you’d feel in the morning, the blaring loss a living thing in your soul, as if your decision to stay away had torn something apart in you. It was a manageable wound, for your family’s sake. Memories of your parents had been hazy at best, it had always just been you and your mother’s brother. He’d said something had happened in your home court, that he’d had no other choice but to take you and run, never any other details. Your powers were a strange, unmanageable thing that prowled beneath your skin, a restless beast you couldn’t tie to any court to try and figure out where you’d come from. They weren’t seasonal, not ice or flame or wind; you’d imagined as a kid you’d gotten them in the Night Court, the darkness that sometimes sparked from your fingertips unruly enough to make it plausible, but there was nothing definitive. And your parents, for all the good things your uncle said about his sister, had never tried to find you, leaving all questions unanswered. Left you alone with your uncle and your constant moving with his job. He worked hard to make a life for the two of you, you owed it to him to not cause any trouble, to stay inside and cook and read and help him with his trading business as best you could. Whatever it was out there that beckoned, it was not worth seeing the pain on your uncle’s face. He’d escaped something, that much was clear, you would not damn him to something else, even for your own peace of mind.

This year feels different though, and you can’t deny it. The voice more urgent, the drum beats louder. You find yourself rubbing your temples, a headache building, as you try and fail to read the recipe in your hands. The words blur, a swirl of indistinguishable colors and shapes. You pinch you eyes closed, shake your head as if to clear the voice, trying again and again to make the words make sense, but the drums won’t stop beating.

You hurl the book across the room, knocking a picture off the wall, glass shattering on impact.

“Leave me alone!” You hiss at no one, teeth bared. Talons form at your fingertips, dark shadows whispering over your skin.

“Come. Come and see,” begs the voice.

You draw a breath, then another, and another until the shadows disappear and the talons retract. If you blow the roof off the house, like last time, you’ll have to move again. Beyond your uncle’s disappointment there’s the issue of… her. The war bands, the bogge, the Attor, always a threat looming over your travels, pushing you further and further away from busy cities, all enough on their own, but the Blight adds another layer. Your Uncle said the war she helped wage against the humans was devastating, but the one she could bring here? Sometimes you wonder if she’s the reason you move so much, as if your uncle has been trying in vain all these years to escape the war path closing in on Prythian. He’d never dare delve into the Human Lands, but Spring is one of the few places she has yet to ravish. You can’t risk another move.

You focus on controlling your breathing as you sweep up the glass, and leave the picture of you and your uncle on the table. You’ll find a new frame tomorrow, for today, it’s best if you take that sleeping tonic and avoid any further outbursts.

You make quick work of double checking the locks before changing into your sleep clothes and climbing into bed. It’s only just starting to get dark, the last few rays of sunlight fighting to break through your worn curtains. The priestesses didn’t mention how long it would take to work, or how long it would last, but the drums are still so loud, and the voice won’t stop pleading. It’s a nice voice, if your honest, but you can’t go out there. You won’t.

The vial in your hand is cold, the glass pitted like it’s been used before, it’s contents a bright blue color that glitters even in the darkness. You down it in one gulp, the taste like bursting, overripe fruit. The effects are immediate, you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillows.

  The house is strange, twisted; the wooden walls thorny, gnarled like old tree trunks, the wind howling through the gaps of what used to be the windows. Fire light flickers through the gaps, casting shadows across the space as you stumble from the bed, bare legs caught in sheets suddenly made of vines.

It’s wrong, all wrong.

You stumble on legs that don’t quite work right down the stairs, slashing yours hands open on the thorns that had sprouted out of the railing alongside dark, night blooming flowers.

“Come. Come and see.”

The flowers bloom at the sound of the voice, the violets petals glowing in the darkness, leading you like wisps out the front door, now covered in vines and leaves. Disoriented, you follow the flowers out into the night, the stars dazzlingly bright overhead.

The world outside is not the one you know, the rolling hills now scorched and burned, the trees gnarled and twisted. Dark shapes with glowing eyes sit on the dying branches, starring only at you, some growling, others hissing.

There’s a single line of flowers, twisting away from the leering eyes and you race after them.

“Come. Come and see.”

You’re running before you know it, scooping up flowers as you go.

Something behind you still growls, it’s footsteps rattling the ground behind you. No matter where you look, you can’t see it, like it’s wholly veiled in the darkness. It has your heart pounding in your chest, the beat steady like drums. You push yourself faster, following the flowers over the ruined hills.

The flowers lead you into another wooded area, the trees still barely clinging to life here, their fallen leaves crunching under your bare feet. Branches tug at your shift, tearing the thin materiel, clawing at your exposed legs. Still, the thing behind you prowls closer, it’s breath hot as flame as it chases you.

The flowers wind around trees, deeper, deeper, into the dark, the only light the stars and the flowers; it’s your only chance at escaping. You push, going as fast as your legs can carry you, the drum beats of your heart still echoing in your ears. Soon enough the flowers direct you in a straight line, directly into the mouth of a cave. It feels wrong, going into a cave with some sort of beast snapping on your heels but what other choice do you have?

You reach the mouth of the cave, hand brushing the rough rock, gasping for breath. The darkness beyond beckons, “Come. Come and see,” but there are no flowers here. No stars to light the way, only the darkness of night and shadows.

The thing beyond you roars in challenge as you set one foot in…

You jerk awake like your soul is coming back into your body.

Maybe it is, because you’re not in your bed. There’s half a dozen cuts across your bare legs, staining the bottom of your torn shift, mud splattered across your legs. It feels like you’re wading through soup as you assess yourself, your mind muddled, unable to process where you got the glowing, violet flower in your hands. When you finally have the presence of mind to look up, you are in fact starring at the cavernous mouth of a cave you’ve never seen before.

Somewhere in the distance, the drums pound. Firelight dances among the treeline behind you. You’d gotten outside. On Calanmai. The tonic not only failed, it had left you so horribly vulnerable and queasy you were shaking. You need to get back home, back inside where it’s safe.

From somewhere in the shadows of the trees not far from you, a voice says, “I’m pretty sure I saw her go this way!”

Ice shoots through your veins, feet freezing in place.

The flower seems to warm in your hands, as if reminding you it was there, of the dream that had brought you here. You glance at the cave, the darkness beckoning. It might be a safe place to hide, if those voices are in fact looking for you. They are clearly male, and a few of them at that, and alone in a shift on Calanmai…

The cave might be a terrible spot, you’re pretty sure you had heard something about High Lords and caves, specifically on Calanmai, but the drowsy effect of the tonic has not entirely worn off, and with the voice drawing closer you don’t have time to try and remember what it was.

You step into the darkness, praying it isn’t the worst mistake of your life, and the darkness envelopes you like a caress. It’s almost as if it… moves, shadows and night itself twining around your legs, your arms, brushing along your spine with feather light touches. As if darkness is acquainting itself with the feel of you. You shiver, nervous, but the touch is not unwelcome.

Voices sound outside, but they are muffled, veiled.

Another step, then another, the flower still clutched in your hand blooms, glowing a little brighter. The scent of jasmine and citrus flows from it, fills all your senses.

The cave descends, the ground sloping a bit, and then you have to duck to follow the worn path. There should be loose rock along the path, but it is smooth, like sand beneath your bare feet, like someone had come along and swept out the debris. There’s nothing there to hinder your progress towards what you can only assume is the heart of the cave.

Perhaps this is all a part of your strange dream, that would certainly explain the flower, but what other choice do you have no but to keep going? From behind you, those voices from the woods sound again, as if they have stepped into the cave too.

“You’re sure she came in here?”

“Where else would she go out here?”

“Do you think Mistress will let us have a little fun before she gets her hands on her?”

Its that that makes you freeze, all thought eddying from your head.

The flower shrinks in your hand, the light dimming, even as the darkness of the cave twines itself around you, the caress like a cat rubbing against your legs, as if it’s trying to soothe you, calm you. You can’t move.

The sudden shift in the air of the cave is palpable. Goosebumps raise on your arms as the temperature drops, as the darkness deepens.

“What the fuck?” One of the men hisses.

And then the screaming starts, the blood curdling cries rattling the walls.

Still you can’t move, can’t see, can only stand there in the company of the shadow still rubbing soothing circles into your back while the earth trembles and dust rains down from the cave roof.

Just as quickly as the screaming starts, it stops, the only sound know the subtle drip of something wet hitting the floor. Your senses are sharp enough for you to scent the cooper tint of blood in the air, but even your keen senses can’t pick up what caused it. You can’t hear anything either, no footsteps, no fighting. It’s over.

You exhale a shaky breath, hands still trembling around the flower. Until it suddenly dies, the petals falling from your cupped hands. You’re strangely attached to it now, hands scrambling to catch the petals in the dark when that same glow appears around the bend in the cave.

Another flower, a way out!

You step towards it, not stopping to ask yourself why this one is smaller, so far away from the ground. Its not until you’re nearly upon it, nearly slamming into it, that you realize it’s not a flower at all. It doesn’t truly click into place until a firm set of hands grabs hold of you, stopping you from slamming right into the owner of that glowing set of violet eyes.

You might have screamed, were it not for the voice that says, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

The world tilts before you as it clicks into place that you know that voice. It’s the one that called you out here.

[skiiyoomin]

Satoru Fucking Gojo (a series)

ʚsynopsis: Satoru Gojo. Who doesn´t know that name? People want to be with him or be him. He´s good looking. Smart. Filthy rich. Women begging for an ounce of attention. He's the most popular guy in the University of Tokyo. He has the world at his feet. Or at least he thought he did. So when you - a pretty foreigner - transfers to his university threatening the titles he held so selfishly, he concludes he´s going to ruin you. Not without having some fun first. But the task proves to be harder than expected. What happens then?

ʚContent: slight enemies to lovers, university au, frat boy!Gojo, fem! reader. Angst, fluff, asshole Gojo, character development. TW insinuation of SA, family trauma. Complicated relationships. Cliché tropes. Miscommunication. Mentions of alcohol and drugs. Eventual smut, MDNI.

Satoru Fucking Gojo playlist (songs will be added as chapters are posted)

i. the prelude

ii. easy

[d3adlyromb3ar]

⋆˚࿔ her sin, his salvation pt 2

— pairing. dark!satoru gojo x fem!reader

— synopsis. you go on a date with gojo, having a fun night and catching up with an old friend— completely unaware of what’s to come.

— word count. 1.6k

— contents. dark contents, stalking, obsessive behavior, mentions of anxiety (light), mentions of depression (light), suggestive themes, masturbation, pervy behavior

— notes. @saradika thx for dividers 🤍

part one here

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+ CONTENT

You hadn’t meant to be so giddy, so nervous as you walked outside of the bookstore— your gaze landing on Gojo leaning against his car, waiting patiently for you with a gentle smile.

It had been forever since someone had done something nice for you— with you. You were completely flattered that someone as handsome as Gojo wanted to take you out.

You were ready for this. Your belly fluttering with both nerves and excitement.

“I told you. You look beautiful.” He spoke the truth, his eyes shamelessly taking up and down your form.

Your flushed cheeks from work and nerves, it was a gorgeous look on you. Your hair neat but messy in some areas— caused from work havoc. He thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever cross.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling, ever since he asked you out— you had been running on the high all day.

“Thank you, Satoru.” Your voice was quiet, but genuine.

He said asked no time and opened the passenger side door, stepping aside and waving his arms towards the vehicle.

“Shall we? I know a great place off town.” He suggested.

You hurried into the car, not minding where he took you— just excited to finally be doing something other than work and sleep.

“Sounds great.” You didn’t care for the details, completely engrossed in the night you had ahead of you.

Oblivious little mouse, he thought darkly.

The car ride was quiet for the most part, light music playing in the background as the scenery passed before you.

Gojo through the thin line of control, kept his hand on the steering wheel. Where his palm itched the settle on the smooth skin of her thigh that was exposed from her skirt riding up— he kept his hands to himself.

In time, he’d have her.

You found out quickly that he wasn’t lying. It was a small cafe, mostly outdoor seating. It was charming and had an automatically relaxing feel to it as the cafe was surrounded by cherry blossom and weeping willow trees. Her favorites.

“Satoru this is… oh my gosh it’s so…” You trailed off, mesmerized by how perfect this place felt. It was straight out of a book perfect.

He smirked to himself. Of course it was perfect, he’d done his research. Days on end it took him to figure out that you preferred weeping willow trees, the hunched over ivory giving you privacy to read your books in peace. The cherry blossom trees, it was easy to know you liked them. You stared and took pictures of them almost every day. It was cute.

“Beautiful isn’t it? I thought you’d like it.” He hummed, taking his seat after he’d pushed her chair in.

You sat across from his alluring presence. It gave you a good moment to appreciate his features. His blue eyes that were borderline intimidating, but gorgeous. His skin seemed all too perfect, like porcelain.

A throat being cleared snapped you back to reality. Your cheeks flushed red as soon as you saw his face form into a knowing expression. You’d been caught.

“What are you thinking of getting?” He asked instead of lingering on your moment of blatantly staring. 

You hurried to grab a menu, hoping to ignore your embarrassing act completely.

“Uh… not sure.” It was then your eyes widened as you noticed the prices. “This all seems very…”

“Expensive?” He finished for you.

You nodded as your fingers tightened around the menu. You weren’t sure if you could afford anything but a water from this place.

“Yeah. It’s pretty pricey and… I don’t think I brought enough money with me tonight.” You muttered lowly, embarrassed.

He chuckled, catching her attention. Her wide eyes and red cheeks gazing at him.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. Tonight’s on me.” He knew you couldn’t afford a place like this, which is why he brought you here to begin with.

He had a sick pleasure in wanting to provide for you in every way. He didn’t want you to lift a finger. All he wanted more than anything was for you to be his little pretty toy. Sitting pretty and waiting for him to get home. He’d think you’d appreciate that.

The thought had him hard, his member straining against his pants. His eyes darkened and he had to glance down to the menu so you wouldn’t notice the shift in his behavior.

“Satoru I couldn’t ask you to do that—”

“You’re not asking me sweetheart, I’m doing this because I want to.” He interrupted, his hand sneaking under the table to palm himself through his pants.

You on the other hand were completely oblivious to what he was doing and gave in, offering him a sweet smile instead. Trying to ignore the butterflies you got from the nickname.

“Well, thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

He nodded, his eyes locked on yours as he squeezed and smoothed over his aching member, trapped in the material of his pants.

“What can I get started for you two?” The waiter came out of nowhere, startling both Gojo and you.

He hurried his hand back to rest on the table, his dick throbbing from the lack of touch.

“She’ll have a diet coke,” He ordered for her, rushing to stop her from ordering herself, “I’ll have a water.”

The waiter nodded and hurried off to the kitchen, while you wondered, how did he know I liked diet coke? You shrugged and brushed that thought away.

You didn’t feel odd that he was very much taking charge. It felt more like he was treating you right.

What was that called? Princess treatment? Obviously that could go on way more than just dinner.

You swallowed and stopped your wandering thoughts. You had just ran into him today, you can’t possibly be thinking about his dick already. Embarrassingly enough, you were thinking about just that. It had been a long time since you’d been intimate. Unfortunately, your hand just wasn’t doing it anymore. You felt it was only natural to think such lewd thoughts about a man as attractive as Gojo.

But it didn’t help the guilt you felt for thinking about him when he was treating you so nicely.

If only you knew.

“Everything okay (Y/n)?” His voice broke you from your perverted thoughts and you knew your cheeks were red. Again.

“Yes! Yeah… sorry. Just thinking about… work.” You cringed at your own words.

His eyes squinted, he knew it was a lie.

“We don’t have to be so bashful mouse, what’s on your mind?” He hasn’t meant for the pet name to slip, but found out quickly that he didn’t care.

You on the other hand flushed a deeper shade of red from the sound of mouse leaving his lips. It was… weird but you also strangely didn’t mind it too much.

“It’s rather embarrassing.” You mumbled, your hands fiddling with each other nervously on your lap.

He tilted his head and rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward to really give you all his attention.

“I won’t judge.” He smiled.

There was no way you were about to admit to Gojo that you were thinking about how good it would feel to have his dick inside of you right now. There was absolutely no way.

“It’s just been awhile.” You started, hoping he’d get the hint, understand and move on.

“Since you’ve been on a date?” He wondered, for the first time he didn’t know what you were thinking.

You shook your head and scratched the back of your neck, it suddenly felt too hot outside.

“Well, yeah that but…” You swallowed and decided not to be so awkward about it. It was a normal thing. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been involved with anyone, y’know?”

He understood completely what you were trying to say, but him being devious— he pretended not to know. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“I’m still confused, love.” He added the nickname, adoring the way your cheeks reddened.

You huffed and rubbed a hand over your face, careful not to smear your already worn for too long makeup.

“Like… it’s been a while since I’ve been intimate with someone.” You winced while speaking quietly, careful not to let others hear.

His face only held one of confusion, the expression making you huff in frustration.

“Sex. It’s been awhile since I’ve had sex.” You pushed out, eyes closed in embarrassment.

You were expecting him to laugh to tease, make fun of you— because that’s what anybody would do at that admission.

Gojo didn’t laugh however, his face one of understanding.

“Oh, I see what you mean.” He hummed, but his words didn’t bring you the comfort like you’d hoped. “You don’t need to worry about that, if that’s what you’re worried about? That after this I’ll take you home and fuck you.”

He was so blunt— on purpose of course. He wanted to watch your reaction to his words. Red cheeks? Check. Wide eyes? Check. Heavy breathing? A new one… but check.

You stared at him, your lips parted slightly in shock and what you figured was desire stirring in your belly. The way his voice had grown lower when he said it and the way it was exactly what you wanted to happen.

“I’m more of a gentleman than you might be thinking.” He spoke smoothly.

Obviously he wanted to fuck you. God, that thought had his hand back down to his crotch, squeezing his aching member. However, if he wanted to have you— he’d have to earn your trust. He wanted to fuck you, completely ruin you because you wanted it too.

You shook your head in embarrassment.

“Right… right. Sorry.” You uttered.

“No need to apologize mouse, we will get there.” He promised, to which your eyes widened in anticipation.

He was teasing you at this point and he adored every micro reaction you showed.

The waiter came back with drinks and took the food orders, but it all might as well have been a blur in the background of your chaotic thoughts. Your mind was anything but calm. Gojo was so… unpredictable. Every word that came out of his mouth was nothing you’d expect. Each mini action, each decision— unpredictable. It was exciting and it was something I had never experienced.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you realized that this might be the one. It was silly because you thought that about anyone, but it felt different. You were excited where this would go.

Meanwhile, Gojo watched your dazed expression as you ate— not doubting that it was him that consumed your thoughts.

Sweet little mouse, you are my everything.

— ending notes. pt 2 🥳

[serialkilluh1996]

✆𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐑✆

Older-Crush-König x Younger-female-reader pt.1

You have an unhealthy infatuation with König. But where there is obsession, there are dilemmas. He's 35, you're 21. He's your colonel, you're just an assistant. But most importantly, he can't fucking stand you.

Warnings: reader has specifically the personality i wrote, use of ☆☆☆ in place of reader's name, age gap (14 years), König is kinda of an ass, contact me if I need to add more.

Proshippers, Comshippers DNI

¹ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ➛

It's been almost a year since you fell in love with this man.

You were 20, looking for a reasonably paying job to live a reasonably affordable life, and Kortac had just the position.

A base level assistant. All you had to do was make sure everyone was in check, keep track of everyone's time sheets, and make sure all important files, including inventory, were safely stowed away in your computer supplied by the company. Who could turn down such an easy job? You didn't even have to do any field work.

Your life was going pretty damn smooth, if it wasn't for him. Him being König, your colonel and angel. He's a gorgeous man. Bright blue eyes, a firm muscular body, imposing height, his flattering accent. You were instantly in love with him, and he fucking hated it.

It started off small, with him politely hinting you away, but you were persistent. Bothersome. You absolutely wouldn't let him go, and that very fact would be the death of you.

König taps his pen against his desk, unmotivated to write his paperwork that was long past due. It wasn't anything serious, just a list of yes/no, if/and, where/when questions he didn't feel like reading through. Tap tap tap tap, the pen knocks against the table, abruptly stopping once König noticed you standing in the doorway.

He sighs, his entire mood shifting from unmotivated to irritated. "...why are you here, ☆☆☆..." he asks, sounding like more of a statement than a question due to his heavy accent and rough tone. Your name sounded like a curse coming from his mouth; a slur, even.

"I've done all my tasks." You explain to him, hands clasped together as you lean against the threshold.

"Und? Did ya want a cookie or something?" He teases. "I–I–" you stutter out, not sure how to respond to his sarcasm. "Don't worry about it." He fans his hand, looking back down at the paper.

He would've wrather been writing than dealing with you right now. You were so genuinely in love, enamored by him and his....qualities. but to König, this was all just some dumb hormonal puppy crush. He wanted a mature woman, not some silly girl like you.

"I...wanted to know if you'd go to the bar with me." You force out, your stomach churning with anxiety as you finally got the words out. "I'm not gonna be able to sneak you, Liebling, if that's what you're implying." He chuckles softly, beginning to scribble away at the paper.

"Sneak me in? I'm old enough to go to a bar, thank you very much." You look offended. It's almost humorous to him. Your anger is probably the only thing about you that made him smile, how funny and easy it was to piss you off. The younger ones typically did have a shorter temper.

"Oh, und how old are ya? 16? 17?" "...21." You said firmly, visibly irritated. You somehow managed to be the youngest in every group, so you were no stranger to being tease about your age.

"Oh...just old enough to drink. So, you want me to come and babysit you while you get drunk off your ass by some alcohol you're probably not even strong enough to handle?" "Why are you acting like this?" You folded your arms, frowning.

"What?" "I'm not inviting you as a chaperone, I'm inviting you as a date." You tilt your head slightly.

"...A date?" König almost bursts into laughter, stifling his chuckles with coughs as he covered his mouth. You could feel your confidence dropping with every hearty giggle.

"You're asking me out? Seriously?" "...yes." You mumble, no longer wanting to talk. "Why don't you ask Avery, hm? He's MUCH closer to your age." You frown at his words.

Avery was one his soldiers. A very kind young man, no older than 25, messy blonde hair. You loved having Avery around and he always made your moments memorable, but...he was practically a brother to you. You didn't see Avery as a potential love interest, you saw him as a silly best friend who had your back when you needed it.

"I don't want to go with him. I don't like him." You pouted.

"Well, that's too bad, Liebling. I'm far too old to be going out with someone like you. You're too young, und frankly, quite annoying. I want a woman. Not a puppy. Go ask someone else," he clicks his pen, leaning back in his chair.

"You're a very beautiful young lady and I'm sure there's plenty of men your age willing to kill to be with you." "I don't care what tuey want, I care what I want." You try to sound demanding, like you're standing your ground, but it comes out like a spoiled child whining, frustrating you further.

"Don't throw a fit, now." "I'm not!" You shout, now angry with yourself for being so openly bothered by his rejection. He couldn't help but exhale, looking at the sight of you. Your face was hot with agitation, eyes squinted with frustration as you stared into his eyes. He couldn't help but smile at your clenched hands. You were awful at hiding your emotions. It was almost precious to him

He felt himself becoming more tense, having to look down at the desk and put a hand to his forehead. "What am I gonna do with you..." he shakes his head. This wasn't the first time he'd rejected your advances; you've asked a myriad of times, being slowly but surely denied with more force each time.

"... I'll consider it." He offers, scratching his forehead, and you almost instantly rejoice at the idea. You suppressed a squeal as you bit your lip, trying not to make yourself look dumber.

"But not as a date." He interrupts, and you become nervous again.

"I don't want any unnecessary rumors about us spreading around. I'm not dating you and I don't want people to have the impression that I am. I'll invite a few others to go along with us and you will behave like a proper young lady. Understood?" "....Understood."

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.

[212-apricity]

siren songs and stolen kisses - jj maybank masterlist

🌊new series alert!!🌊

im beyond exicted to finally share my brand new jj maybank x reader fic series with you guys<33

its called "siren songs and stolen ksses" so expect all the drama, thrill, and romance we love in the original show, but with a twist — you’re a Cameron.

synopsis: Growing up as a Cameron means power, prestige, and tension with the Pogues. But for you, there's something (or maybe someone) drawing you closer to the chaos on the other side. Following the series' events, "siren songs and stolen kisses" will put you right at the centre of the action — from high-speed chases to summer nights by the bonfire — but now with a Pogue who’s ready to risk it all for you.

episodes are dropping irregularly but frequently, so stay tuned and don’t forget to bring a life jacket — this journey’s going to be wild.

started: 11th november 2024

last updated: 26th december 2024

status: ongoing

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

intro

1. pilot

2. the lucky compass

3. the forbidden zone

4. spy games

5. midsummers

6. parcel 9

7. dead calm

8. the runaway

9. the bell tower

10. the phantom (tbd!!)

[it-happened-one-fic]

Twisted Weddings: Photoshoot #1 - Quite the Image

Summary: Your first photoshoot was going to be with Trey. The question was whether the presence of the bicycle or exactly how good he looked in a suit was more startling, and the bicycle really seemed to be winning. Either way, you could only hope your first attempt at modeling went pseudo-well.

Type: Female reader/ 800 Followers Event/ Series/ sfw/ fluff/ light-flirtation

Twisted Weddings Series Masterlist

Word count: 1346

“So… A bike,” Trey eyed the bicycle that was leaned against a pole as I shifted. Doing my best to not continue eyeing him. But, to be fair, I’d never actually seen Trey in a suit before. Much less one that was tailored specifically to make him look his absolute best.

I’d been impressed enough when I’d seen the gown I was wearing. A slim-fitting dress with fluttery, sheer sleeves that could get caught in even the smallest of breezes and made for a rather dreamy-looking dress.

And the embarrassing thing was that I knew that both it and I looked nice. Trey’s reaction could have only been so faked.

I could only hope that I hadn’t been as obvious in my surprise at how nice he looked. At the very least, I knew I hadn’t openly gaped at him.

“Maybe we’re both going to be riding it for the photo?” I stepped over next to Trey. Eyeing the lone visible prop for our photoshoot.

An old-looking bicycle.

Trey shook his head though, a slight frown on his face, “I doubt it. Your skirt might get caught in the wheel or something….”

He trailed off, glancing my way with a half smile as he tilted his head, “It probably would be a cute photo though.”

I nodded, quietly agreeing with him as I did my best to ignore the way the slight breeze ruffled my sleeves as he hummed thoughtfully.

“I guess it could be a picture of us walking together while pushing a bike?” He hardly sounded confident in his theory, but I felt myself nod, crossing my arms slightly as I continued to eye the bicycle.

But unfortunately, there was no telling exactly what Crewel had planned.

“Alright, Pups!” Me and Trey both jerked upright as Crewel strolled out of the building and over to where we were standing. Almost as if he’d been signaled by my thoughts that right now was the perfect time to make his appearance.

Trey and I turned together, both looking towards our instructor, and the man who skittered after him with all sorts of photography-related paraphernalia at the same time. And all at once I realized this was actually happening. As if the wedding clothes hadn’t been enough.

I was going to be featured heavily as a model in a photoshoot for Crewel’s latest designs for bridal clothes.

Trey and I briefly exchanged glances before we looked back towards our instructor who stopped in front of us. Almost as if we were thinking the same thing. But neither of us spoke as Crewel began to explain.

“I’m sure the two of you have already realized that you have this bicycle as your prop,” Crewel gestured idly to the bicycle, and we both nodded. With me glancing back at it and idly wondering exactly how this was going to work.

Me and Trey both looked towards Crewel for explanation, though. But both of us knew that Crewel was going to tell us how we were going to be posed and what we were going to be doing.

And he wasted no time in doing just that, “Good. Y/n. You get on the bike first. Trey, you’ll be behind them and actually pedaling.”

Trey hesitated slightly, glancing over at me worriedly before he looked towards Crewel, “But… Professor, won’t Y/n’s skirt get caught in the wheels?”

Crewel’s eyebrows arched at the young man next to me, and I shifted, idly scooting backwards as Crewel crossed his arms and eyed Trey, “Y/n is going to be riding side-saddle, Mr. Clover. Her skirt is slim-fitting and will take care of itself.”

Trey nodded, his eyes widening slightly before he turned, his gaze barely meeting mine as he made a slight face before reaching over and rolling the bike over so that I could perch on it carefully. All while Crewel continued.

“Both of you will need to ignore the photographer. He’s going to be snapping pictures the very moment the two of you are on the bike, but you need to pretend like he isn’t here. Do NOT look at the camera.”

I nodded lightly, balancing myself carefully. And the very moment I was balanced, Trey was on the bike behind me, bumping me slightly as he muttered apologies, and I shook my head. Scooting forward to try and give him more only to almost slide off the seat.

I could hear the camera snapping in the background as Trey caught me with an arm around my waist, laughing slightly as I gripped the handlebars in front of me and he pushed off.

The bicycle wobbled as he pedaled, and I tried to steer us in a reasonably straight path before he reached forward and grabbed the handle-bars as I slowly got tickled at exactly how bad we were doing.

But it was like something as simple as riding a bicycle had suddenly become impossibly difficult now that we were being looked at. 

My arms rested lightly on the front of the bicycle as I giggled, my laughter causing Trey to start chuckling behind me even as I heard Crewel release a sigh of long suffering as we came to a stop. Both of us laughing as the bicycle rocked to the side for what had to be the thousandth time.

I leaned back, sighing slightly as I twisted to see Crewel walking towards us before I glanced at Trey, “Think we’re in trouble?”

He shook his head, a smile still on his face as he offered a only slightly guilty-looking half shrug. But before either he or Crewel could speak, the photographer was piping up.

“Mr. Crewel, I actually got some good shots there!” Crewel stopped, his eyebrows arching as he looked at the photographer with almost the same degree of surprise as I felt.

Nonetheless, the man trotted over, showing Crewel the screen of his camera as he spoke, “All of these pictures show a certain degree of happiness wedding photos don’t often have due to how staged they are. These two actually look like a happy young couple having some fun on their big day.”

Crewel nodded as he looked through the pictures before pointing at one in particular, “This one.”

Apparently understanding, the photographer nodded, “Yes, I liked that one too. The way he’s smiling down at the young lady is particularly nice here, and they are just starting to laugh.”

“The wind also caught both the sleeves and the edge of the skirt nicely too,” Crewel paused, looking up at us with slightly arched eyebrows. “It looks like you’ve both lucked up. There are some good pictures here.”

“So we’re free to go?”  Trey looked about as hesitant as I felt, but Crewel nodded. 

“Since the photos are good, you’re done.” He paused, his gaze shifting to me as he tilted his head, “And how do you feel about going ahead and getting another photo-shoot done today, Pup?”

I hesitated before I nodded, “Yeah, that should be fine.”

“Alright then, and good work Mr. Clover,” I felt myself grin over at Trey who looked at me with a sigh. Like he knew perfectly well to expect teasing.

“Looking forward to becoming a poster boy for grooms everywhere?” I nudged with my shoulder as we both walked back towards the campus proper to get changed. Him back into his normal clothes and me into a different wedding gown.

He chuckled, only slightly flustered before he grinned over at me, a glint of meanness entering his honey-colored eyes, “Not as much as I’m looking forward to getting to see everyone else’s faces at the dorm.”

I blinked, tilting my head curiously at him, “You're heading back to the dorm to show the guys your suit?”

He chuckled again, shaking his head, “No. I meant when they see our pictures. Apparently we cut quite the image as a young couple.”

It was a fight not to shove him for his teasing, but I took it with only a slight bit of embarrassment.

After all, he was just quoting the photographer.

If you would like to read more

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[nottinmyheart]

"She just fell"

Theo Nott/Brothers bsf x Reader/Malfoy

Part Two-

Quite angsty ig but not from Theo!

Writers note: This is my first fic EVER, so please don't judge too harshly, but I'm also welcome to constructive criticism! I was thinking of making this a series, but I guess it depends if people like it or not. Tbh this was all really just for fun and my personal enjoyment!

Summary: You and Theo have been in love for years, but nothing has ever happened. After an incident where your twin brother (Draco) leaves you in tears, you are confused as to Theodores' feelings towards you.

As you stumbled over your own feet and felt yourself begin to collapse, a sudden pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist preventing you from falling. Looking up, your whole body froze as you got lost in his mesmerising mixture of blues and greens for eyes. Breaking you from your trance was his deep, luscious voice which you so badly wished you could listen to on repeat for the rest of your days, "Well this seems familiar." He chuckled. And yes, it did.

Back in 1st year, you had been put in the exact same situation where you were running through the halls, dreading being late to snapes lesson, when you suddenly, abruptly tripped over your own feet. Just to your luck, Theodore Nott had been standing there and observing when he noticed the inevitable before it had even sprung into action. He immediately caught you with ease and couldn't stop himself from admiring every feature on your stunned, gorgeous face. He was consumed by your beauty while you were in the same boat as you stared back at your saviour. You swore it was love at first sight, and little did you know he felt the exact same way. Before either of you could speak, you were interrupted by that bellow of an annoying voice, your older brother (by 10 minutes). "Oi, get your hands off her Nott!" "Huh?" He spun around in confusion and was met with a fairly irritated Draco. "Don't hold her like that." He froze for a second, but after registering his friends words let go of you. "Ugh, Draco, what do you want!" You voiced back clearly unimpressed by his antics. "Draco, is this your girlfriend or something, mate?" Theodore questioned, clearly confused by his demand. "EW!" Both you and draco screeched in unison, quite childish. "NO! She's my annoying baby sister, " he explained, clearly offended by Theodores' outrageous comment. "BABY?!? You are older than me by 10 MINUTES. Don't act like you are any wiser than me!" You retaliated upset by the fact you were referred to as 'baby sister'. "So you are twins?" Theodore stated as he grasped the concept of how he had just fallen head over heels for his best mates twin sister.

"Oi! Get your hands off her, Nott!" There it was, just like last time, of course your brother had to interfere. Theo stiffened slightly at the sound of dracos voice, knowing he had just lost the chance to talk to you. Again. But he didn't let go straight away, and neither did you. Draco was now right next to the two of you and practically ripped you away from Theos hold. "What are you fucking doing Y/N, don't act like a helpless slut in front of my friends!" His voice was filled with malice and the weight of his horrible words poured over you. The hurt that his statement had on you was clear as your eyes began to fill with tears. Theo didn't know if he should defend you or not but seeing how hurt you looked he couldn't just allow you to stand there alone. Not wanting to completely ruin his relationship with draco, he barely held himself back from lashing out on him right then and there. "Dude she just fell! There's no need to start calling her names." Theo clenched his teeth at his friends quick response "She didn't "just fall" Y/N is clearly seeking attention and she doesn't have to seek it from my mates!" You stood there completely shocked from the words coming out of your own brothers, your own twins, mouth. "I- I honestly didn't mean to!" Was all you could splutter out but Draco just looked at you unconvinced. "Yeah whatever, stop acting so pathetic and just fuck off." So you did. As quickly as you could, you ran away from that situation and straight to your safe place.

In the astronomy tower, you were fortunate that no lessons were currently going on as the thought of anyone else seeing you like this, in pieces, made you sick to your stomach. You knew Draco and you were recently growing apart. And he was occupied by girls and rarely talked to you, but you couldn't believe how he had just treated you, his own flesh and blood. He treated you as if you were some trashy pick me girl just trying to find someone to fuck. You weren't that, why did he treat you like that? More tears began to flow down your face in an ugly sob and you couldn't stop.

Your best friends (Pansy and Luna) soon realised you weren't in lesson and questioned Draco as to if you were okay. Seeing the guilty expression on Dracos' face, they both knew he had said something. Although you and Pansy were both in Slytherin, in second year you ran into Luna Lovegood who as peculiar as she was, soon became great friends with the two of you and ever since then, the three of you had been like sisters. Knowing where you were, they both excused themselves and were let go since they used the 'period excuse'.

You were sat on top of the astronomy tower, questioning yourself as to why he would talk to you like that. Maybe you were just attention seeking, I mean, you were deeply in love with his best friend, so you couldn't deny you did want Theodores' attention. But you didn't deliberately fall into Theodores' arms, I mean, you didn't even notice he was there! You were just trying to catch up to your friends after you told them to walk ahead while you spoke to the teacher. And why did Theodore not let go of you? And now that you thought back to it, he did kind of defend you, right? Okay, now you were sure you were delusional, and your confused thoughts only fueled the fountain falling down your face.

Theodore was worried sick about you as he noticed you didn't show up to the next class and he soon saw Pansy and Luna leave the class looking extremely stressed, most likely in search of their lost friend. He felt horrible for just letting you run off and not defending you, and the guilt was eating him alive. But he was also pissed. Pissed at Draco for saying such foul words to you. So when he got the opportunity in class to have a conversation with him, he did. "Dude why the fuck were you so horrible to Y/N. She just fell and I caught her." He whispered in a hushed, stern tone, Draco responded in the exact same way. "She needs to understand that she can't just act like that around my mates. I mean God forbid she actually trys to hook up with one of you." Theodore was beginning to get annoyed at Dracos absurdity again. "But you were fucking horrible. I mean did you see the way you left her!? Plus why is it so bad if she does get with any of your friends? It's not like it would affect you in anyway?" Draco was baffled at this point "You can't be serious? It would affect me in every way and I would never get away from her. She's so annoying and never shuts up, it's not like any of you lot would fancy her anyway." He dismissed the thought, "She's just being dramatic, I'm sure she's fine". Although rage was bubbling over in Theo's head, he left it at that reflecting on how Draco viewed him having a relationship with you would be like.

"I'm sure she's fine." No, you definitely weren't fine, not even in the slightest. As Pansy and Luna made their way up the steps to the astronomy tower, they could hear your desperate sobs and locked eyes with eachother before covering the last few steps, empathy filled each of their eyes and they knew something really bad must have been said as you rarely cry, let alone have a full on breakdown. As you heard steps coming towards you, you frantically spun your whole body around, filled with fear, but relief washed over you as you realised it was only your friends. They comforted you for a good long while, listening to you rant and question yourself. They reassured you and promised it wasn't your fault, which made you feel slightly better, but the question still stood, "Why did Theodore not let go?" Sure, it could easily have been shock, but the way he looked at you, almost as if he never wanted to let you go, made you highly doubt that theory. Before you could dwell on the situation any longer, dinner rolled around, and you had promised your friends that you would go with them (not before you cleaned up and made yourself look presentable first). You couldn't let Draco know how much he had gotten to you. And you couldn't let Theodore see you in this state, even if you didn't yet know how he felt towards you.