#I KNOW THEY LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME BUT ITS NOT MY FAULT THEY ALREADY LOOK LIKE THAT IN CANON

[kyokyeo]

this is killugon yuri

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

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[retrosabers]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬.

FICMAS DAY ONE- MISTLETOE

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: marie is determined to get logan to kiss you under the mistletoe

contains: cute holiday fluff, marie and bobby being little shits, established relationship, swearing, teasing

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was not supposed to be almost 2k words but i have a very bad habit of getting carried away when it comes to logan so…let’s hope i can actually commit to writing all these holiday blurbs! in the meantime, enjoy some wolvie sweetness <3

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

holidays at the x-mansion meant a few things.

helping put up the largest christmas tree you’ve ever seen, and decorating it from head to toe. each student and professor responsible for placing their favorite ornament on a branch.

spending your weekends cozying up by the fireplace with hot cocoa and your colleagues. basking in the warmth that had nothing to do with the glowing embers, but the company seated around you.

and last, but most importantly, less kids. since a fair amount of them returned home to spend time with their families, that meant fewer heads to keep track off, and less stress on your plate.

but of course, things could never be that easy.

the ones who remained, usually the older students, always tried their luck to see just how much they could get away with, under the guise of “being in the christmas spirit.”

last year it was the snowball fight that somehow made its way into the foyer. the year before that there was a wrapping paper prank that covered all four walls of the professor’s office with obnoxiously printed gift wrap.

both of which were unnecessary messes that irked logan big time. and yet, this year’s ordeal got under his skin in a way that was unparalleled to those prior.

and it’s all your fault, really. well, sort of.

somehow an innocent comment made in passing about always wanting to be kissed under mistletoe turned into a personal mission for marie. she was determined to help make your dream come true, and while the kindness of it all is incredibly sweet and heartwarming, she’s starting to get a little carried away.

logan liked the young girl. he really, truly did.

but if her and bobby didn’t stop this little charade, he was going to lose his mind.

all damn day the pair of teens were following him around every corner. whispering and giggling under their breath, forgetting that he could hear them from a distance away. he knows exactly what they’re up to, judging by the faux leaf decoration marie is doing a very poor job of hiding behind her back.

they’re trying to play matchmaker.

it’s something that would be the slightest bit endearing if he wasn’t already involved.

that’s what made the situation ironic. funny even. watching them scramble around to place the mistletoe whenever you and logan were in the same room. thinking they were single handedly going to be responsible for a love match that was already underway and had been for months.

you weren’t purposely keeping your relationship a secret. you just didn’t feel like it needed to be divulged to the team just yet. anyone with eyes however, could clearly see there was something going on between you and the wolverine.

hence the two young mutants trying their hand at playing cupid.

“you can’t keep barking at them all day,” you scold logan, who was shooting the iceman a warning glare over his shoulder. the blonde looks like a deer caught in headlights as he darts down the hall. “they’re just being kids.”

“gettin’ on my goddamn nerves is what they’re doing,” your boyfriend grumbles. his hard expression melts a bit when you affectionately card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“i think it’s sweet.”

logan scoffs with a roll of his eyes, but it's clear he’s mostly messing around. he’s got a soft spot for the kids whether he wants to admit it or not, and he most definitely has a soft spot for you, which he’ll scream loud and proud. his eyelids flutter shut at the soothing scrape of your nails against his scalp.

“i’m waiting for you to starting purring one of these days,” you tease him in a low whisper. logan opens one eye, unimpressed. still, there’s a faint tug on the corner of his lips.

“whatever,” he retorts weakly, relishing in the peaceful moment. knowing you don’t get many of those around here, his hand stays snug against the small of your back, hoping he can keep you anchored for just a little while longer.

as much as you want to stay like this all day, both of you have things that need to be taken care of. logan deflates slightly when you pull away, hands ghosting around your torso before limply falling at his sides.

“duty calls,” you groan, as you look down at your watch to check the time. your next class started in five minutes, and you’d be setting a bad example as the teacher if you were late. “i’ll find you after?”

logan nods, debating on whether or not he should do what he’s thinking. you’ve shown affection around the mansion before, but with bobby and marie sneaking around, he didn’t want to give them a front row seat, especially considering no one really knew you were together yet. the last thing he needs is those two running amuck telling everyone his business.

although logan would be a liar if he said he could go without your kisses. because he couldn’t. not by a long shot, regardless of the circumstance.

just as he’s about to lean in, a loud noise sounds from the hallway. you exchange glances for a split second, protective instincts kicking in before you rush out of the room in a panic.

in a flash, you’re standing in the mansion’s entryway, logan with his claws out and you with your fists up ready to face danger. except there wasn’t anything alarming to be found. not a knocked over vase. not so much as a fly in the wall.

“what the hell was that?” you breathe, surveying the hall for any sign of what could’ve caused a ruckus.

“probably those damn kids again,” logan huffs exasperated, giving the room another once over before his claws retract.

you can’t stop the bark of laughter that makes its way out of you. logan looks back at you confused, but with a hint of a smile on his face.

“i’m sorry,” you snort, covering your mouth at the sound. “it’s just, you sound like such an old man right now.”

unamused, logan offers a blank stare, though you know there’s no real irritation behind it.

“i’m not sure who’s worse,” your boyfriend groans as he makes his way back toward the living room. “you, or the kids.”

“you know you love me,” you joke, following close behind. logan hums sarcastically, but deep down he knows it’s the complete and utter truth. he doesn’t have to say it out loud for you to know, and somehow his coyness about the subject manages to make you even more smitten.

your heart flutters from that notion, in addition to catching a glimpse of the mistletoe that’s now mysteriously pinned above the corridor.

it definitely wasn’t there two seconds ago.

a quick flick of your head back and forth to double check and make sure there wasn’t any prying eyes. bobby and marie weren’t very good at hiding, so when you’re not met with a chorus of stifled giggles, you know you’re in the clear.

a smug grin accompanies the airy call of logan’s name.

the man gives a sideways peek over his shoulder before spinning around completely, eyeing you with tender curiosity.

you stand in the doorway, teetering back and forth on your heels, and nod your head up in the direction of the ever dreaded mistletoe. an innocent flush on your cheeks that signals to him just how giddy you are over something so small.

and as much as logan can’t stand the cliche-ness of it all, he has no choice but to oblige.

because who would he be, if he didn’t do everything in his power to keep you this happy?

with faux annoyance, he stomps over to you, dragging his feet across the floor for dramatic effect. it only adds to your amusement, the sound of your laughter the most delightful noise he wishes he could bottle up and keep forever. when his large hands find their familiar place wrapped around you, any facade of indifference crumbles.

“m’gonna get those little shits if they’re lurking,” logan mutters playfully, your lips mere inches apart with how closely he leans in.

“just shut up and kiss me already howlett,” you whisper in protest, and that little hint of bossiness is all logan needs to surge forward and close the gap.

it felt exactly like something out of those cheesy christmas romance movies, but in the best way possible. the scent of vanilla and pine occupies your senses as logan’s lips move in tandem against yours. delicate and slowly, an always dizzying contrast to the brooding and rugged exterior of the wolverine. you melt like putty into his touch, arms encircling the back of his neck naturally.

there’s something sweet and syrupy that logan feels between his ribs when you shuffle around onto the tips of your toes to deepen the kiss even more. to find a way to get even closer, an impossible feat that physics won’t ever allow but you try anyway.

the only thing that could ever pull you away from this bliss, was the need to come back for air.

the sight of you, blushed and breathless, was always sure to make him swell with pride. in true hallmark fashion, a piece of hair falls in front of your face, and logan tucks it behind your ear without second thought.

“that live up to the hype?” logan teases, raising a brow up towards the ceiling, that sly smirk of his making you flush even more.

“maybe,” you quip back, pretending to mull things over in your mind before ultimately nodding your head enthusiastically.

and even when logan can sense the presence of bobby and marie looming nearby, he doesn’t fly off the handle with a string of swear words like he wants to. he can’t bring himself to rain on your parade just yet. though he should’ve known you’d beat him to the punch.

“they’re standing in the hall aren’t they?” you grumble against his lips, a hint of annoyance lacing your otherwise cheery tone.

“yup,” logan pops the last letter, shifting to give the pair a look that screams “i’m giving you a five minute head start before you get an earful.” they cartoonishly scamper off, the sound of bounding footsteps up the staircase filling the room.

you pinch the bridge of your nose, the bubble of this perfect moment popping at the thought of what the rest of your day was going to entail now that the mansion’s biggest blabbermouths caught you kissing.

“we’ve got about 10 minutes before the entire state of new york knows our business.”

logan’s laugh rumbles against you, sending delightful vibrations throughout your body. even with the irritation that pricks at the both of you, there’s an underlying sense of content that can’t be ignored.

“i say it was worth it.”

“yeah?” you whisper, eyes searching logan’s for some sign of jest or sarcasm. surprisingly, they’re full of sincerity, and it only adds to the warm and fuzzy feeling spreading across your skin.

“yeah,” he hums, gingerly cradling your face as he presses your lips together once more.

later, after you scold marie for being a meddler, you’ll be sure to thank her for helping give you one of the most memorable kisses in your entire life.

thanks for reading! <3

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[aetherraeys]

selected audience

barty crouch jr x afab!reader x regulus black ⊹ 2.3k

cw ⟢ mdni 18+, smut, voyerism?, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, praise, overstimulation, regulus has a crush on reader, cumming untouched, swearing, lowercase intended

barty knew all too well about regulus' little crush, and decides its only right to give him a glimpse into the pleasures of being with you.

a/n: not proofread--this is actual filth and im not even sorry lemme know if i missed any warnings x

barty was many things, cocky, unhinged and absolutely batshit crazy about you. even before you started dating he did little to hide his feelings. looking at you all lovesick, and sparkly eyed as if you had personally hung them moon and the stars in the sky.

now barty was obsessed with you, clinically so. and well, that would mean regulus had the same condition. it wasn’t his fault really, he was fighting a losing battle—you were always so generous with your affection, letting it seep into everything you did, everyone you talked to.

so sweet, so dreamy, so compelling. and don’t get him started on your voice, oh your voice, honeyed and hypnotic, yet innocent making his brain involuntarily short-circuit.

regulus could talk at great length about you, but alas, you were with barty and he was, alone. surrendered against his will to a cruel fate—seeing you every single day, with his friend and roommate, knowing he can’t have you.

and barty, he was well aware of the way regulus felt about you, completely understandable—you truly were bewitching.

but, as established, barty was unhinged.

not just in the normal way, whatever that was.

barty pushed every limit, button and boundary within his grasp—meaning regulus was always in the line of fire.

he wasn’t one to put a damper on his intimacy just for the sake of his friend, no, he was going to enjoy his treasure fully.

usually it was you who’d reign in barty’s sadistic tendencies, but he was sneaky and wasn’t going to let your soft-nature ruin his fun.

he knew exactly when regulus would return to the dorm room after his prefect duties, same time everyday, like clockwork.

so today, he decided he’d really enjoy himself.

his hands were everywhere, your waist, your hips, your breast—planting wet, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh.

a sharp gasp of, “junior”, left your lips and he nipped, sucking a bruise, millimetres from the wet spot that had formed on your panties.

he only hummed as he pulled the waistband up and high off your skin, letting it snap back harshly, smirking at the way your body jolted. indulging himself with a few more peppered bruises, before peeling them off of you.

and just as he reach you ankle, discarding them within the four closed curtain pillars of his bed, whispering a muffling charm and crawling back up to you.

typically, when all the curtains on barty’s bed were closed, and the room rung eerily silent, regulus could guess what was happening in there—if the slight rocking wasn’t telling enough.

but today, as part of barty’s twisted game, he’d not done a silencing charm.

so when regulus came back, seven o’clock sharp, he could faintly hear your soft candied whines—his throat becoming so unbelievably dry at the realisation.

he knew he should have left immediately, he was intruding, invading your privacy, trespassing—perverting a moment that wasn’t his.

and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

though muffled, he could make out so much, too much, of what was happening just a few meters away. his imagination getting away from him, feeling himself twitch shamelessly in his trousers.

you were splayed out prettily on the bed, one hand intertwined with barty’s, as you squirmed endlessly. knees flung over his shoulders humming lightly against your clit.

“o-oh my god- feels soo good-” your fingers releasing his hand to go card through his hair. two fingers already pushed passed the ring of resistance and curling up, deliciously into your walls.

your lip hastily pulled in by your teeth, hips rocking in pace with his fingers, now tugging—pulling at his soft locks in desperation. he lifted his eyes towards you, prying his mouth away from the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

“c’mon treasure—wanna hear you,”

he’s looping an arm around one leg, hitching you up, so he’s snug against your core, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips, intensity making try squirm away. but barty had you locked in, at his mercy, angling the to hit that one spot that had your back arching impossibly off the bed.

his tongue toying with your clit, eyes never leaving you, following your every twitch, every jolt, feeling you squeeze around his fingers so tight, crying out loudly, “f-fuck—junior, s’too-oh!”

clawing at him, his hair, his neck, his shoulders, grinding your deeper into his mouth, body writhing from the pleasure, and only then did he pulling away. kissing a trail up your body to your lips—meeting your lips in a far too tender embrace.

regulus was still frozen in place, the smallest beads of sweat prickling at his hair line—so unbearably hard. his ears rung and blood ran cold when he heard it—voice too casual, too fippant.

“reg?”, the smirk on his face was so smug. regulus didn’t move, don’t answer, breath caught in his throat—bracing himself for impact.

“reggie, you busy?”, barty peaked his head out from the curtain, cheeks still lightly rosy and lips glistening from his previous actions.

he barely meet barty’s gaze, his voice coming out pinched and higher than normal, “-uh, no, not uhm right now,”

its like barty knew he’d been standing there, just out of ear-shot, opening the curtain wider and motioning him over with a small nod of his head.

what the fuck was happening?

what the actually fuck was happening right now?

his shuffled over, eyes darting frantically around the room, avoiding everywhere but where his eyes wanted to land so desperately. but he was weak, eyes settling on him, and then you.

chest rising and falling at an increased speed, cheeks flushed, half-lidded and pupils blown out. barty’s body covering your center, but he could still see the way your stomach had been bared, tank-top bunched just under your chest—taking in every ounce of your appearance.

before he had opened the curtains, you’d heard him whisper between kisses something about regulus, but mind still mushy and agreeable, thoughtlessly humming—nodding at what he’d said.

when your head rolled, and your sights fell on him, a lazy smile spreading across your face—he sucked in a sharp breath.

barty had a wolfish grin on his face, watching him watching you—”strip then,” eyes snapped over to barty’s—he just waited expectantly.

his body moved before he had time to compute the command, hands shakily unbuckling is trousers, leaving him clad in just his boxers, bulge so painfully obvious. regulus looked back at him from approval, heartbeat loud and fast in his ears, “sit there,”—nodding over to the front of the headboard.

and as barty closed the curtains behind regulus, saying the silencing charm he was originally meant to, you mumbled a soft, breathy, “hi,” to him, as he settled back against the headboard, iron grip on the bedding beside him.

barty wasted no time ridding himself of his boxer, tossing them carelessly behind him—roughly dragging your hips forward, pulling you towards his middle, a light squeal leaving you.

regulus was completely breathless, overwhelmed by the initimate scene unfolding before him. with two soft pats to your thigh and a low, “on your stomach, treasure,”—as if on autopilot, your body twisted and turned to form the most delightful little arch regulus had seen in his life. crawling into the space between his legs, dangerously close to his middle, his thighs on either side of your head.

pressing his lips into a thin line, you were looking up at him so innocent, so inviting.

fortunately—or rather unfortunately, for regulus, that didn’t last long. barty pressing himself into you slowly, breath hitching in his throat as his hands found familiar purchase on the round of your hips. your head fell forward into the matress, barely a few inches away from regulus’ crotch—the whine the left your lips had him twitching helplessly in his boxers.

he almost couldn’t believe his eyes, barty was fucking into you, forcing you gradually further up the matress, closer and closer to him, and it had his head spinning.

“shit—soo tight, angel,” barty’s voice came out rough and gritting when he finally bottomed out—regulus could see the goosebumps spread down your spine, gasping in air, each breath shallower than the last, brows furrowing impossibly high on your forehead.

pushing lazy and drawn out grinds into you, fingers matching the tight grip regulus had on the sheets— ”hmmm, gotta breathe for me,” eyes rolling back, lips parted, neck craned up and so precariously close to regulus.

this is going to kill him, he thinks.

broken, needly cries spilled endlessly out of you, “-mmpf—junior, t-too deep—” slightly, barely muffled by the way your cheek pressed against the bed. it wasn’t until barty runted harsh and unfairly into you, that you finally made contact with regulus.

hand reaching up desperately, clutching onto the fabric at the hem of his boxers—face now resting on his inner thigh. “-hah, almost forgot about our guest,” words rushed and breathless. thrusts so bruising and unforgiving, pushing you closer to the edge—lips now raw and swollen from biting.

regulus could barely breath, the air around him heavy and thick with sex, drinking in each pretty expression that was on your face, knuckles white with the grip he’d yet to release on sheets. his body tensed under your touch, only managing to exhale a barely audible whisper,

“fuck,”

barty used his knee to spread your legs wider, rocking in, searching for a deeper angle—letting a huffed chuckle pass through his lips, relishing in the disheveled state regulus was in, smile splitting onto his face—

“why don’t you indulge him, love. mmhm don’t get all quiet on me now,”

he truly was insane, and so were you apparently, because your hand reliquished its grip on his boxer and taking his, interlocking your fingers together. regulus could now feel each rock of barty’s hips into your, each jolt that rushed over your body—unthinkably close. looking up him, that dazed, needy expression on your face.

and he’s sure he’d died and gone to heaven, gaze locked with yours—the soft pants and laboured breaths that had been falling out of you now littered with wanting cries of his name, “reggie-hah—reg! so-ngh, fuck, reg—”

he couldn’t even stop the way his jaw fell, a hitching breath twisted with a load groan, like the air had been forcibly punched from him.

you were so pretty, so ruined, vision blurring as the pressure deep in the pit of your stomach, barty could feel it, the telltale signs that you were close, sucking him in so tight he almost struggled to drag his hips back.

regulus knew barty was twisted, so the dark snicker that he let out made his stomach churn. each thrust more rushed and cruel than the last, loud ringing in your ears, hips fucking back wildly. “mmm, if you’re close, treasure—shit, y-you know what to do,”

nothing could have prepared for what you did, lifting your head up, staring directly into his eyes—gods this was torture—eyes pleading, swimming with desire, an intense need.

and you couldn’t bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame at the whiny pleas that immediately left you, so delirous with pleasure, your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. “r-reg, oh god-please, can i—mhm, reg, reggie—please” they tumbled out rushed, as you tried to run away from the thrusts, bumping roughly against the spot that made your vision spot.

he swallowed thickly, adams apple bobbing, tongue darting out to wet his painfully dry lips, “f-fuck, yeah—cum f’me, pretty,”

he could barely finish his sentence before your head fell into his lap, trembles wracking through your body, cries and whimpers loud, and scattered with stutters of “reg—junior, re-”

you were being manhandled, barty’s grip on your hips bruisingly tight—holding you flush against him, no escape, grinding in to you, fucking you through your high and then some. struggling to hold yourself up, hips jerking as bolting shocks striking your body.

but barty didn’t slow down.

if anything his fucked into you meaner, watching satisfied as your melted, almost drooling onto regulus’ thigh. “know ya got another one for us, c’mon, thaaat’s it,” your thighs tried to shut, shy away from the overstimation, but barty just slid one hand beneath you—rubbing messy and frantic circles into your clit, the other reaching and grabbing a light fist full of your hair.

compelling your unfocused gaze to meet regulus’.

messy and unintelligable moans and hiccups, eyes so far away, fruitlessly blinking back, fighting against the urge to let them just reside in the back of your head.

and regulus just couldn’t help himself, bringing his hands to your jaw, memorising, savouring the moment. shivering at his touch, tips of his fingers ghosting over the tops if your flushes cheekbones—tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “s’alright, love, take it—goood girl,” his words coming out in a low gravelly purr.

jaw slacking in bliss, body seizing as you leaning into his palm, all the air pushed out of your lungs. barty still rutting into you, pulling the most lewd squelches from where you were joined, loud gasping groans spilling from his lips, stilling behind you—filling you up. before barking out a breathless laugh—eyes stuck on the wet patch that grew at the front of regulus boxers.

your body almost vibrating, slumping against the bed, huffing in large gulps of air—mind gooey and satisfied.

regulus swore he could see a faint layer of condensation locked between the four corners of the bed post, relaxing, and dipping his head back against the headboard.

hoping this would change everything.

[wondrluv]

୨୧ a very kluzty christmas ; lh43

➪ summary: something always seemed to go wrong when luke hughes, y/n y/l/n and the Christmas spirit were put in the same place together

➪ warnings: reader is klutzy, being late, forgetting things, running into people (?)

➪ word count: 3.2k

➪ emma's notes: part of ho ho hockey! i'm so excited for you guys to read this fic, it was supposed to be a four times their christmases were less than ideal but i got carried away with writing this one that i just decided to leave it at this! if you guys want me to write the other three i definitely can, just let me know :)

© wondrluv ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

“Luke c’mon! We have to go, we’re already late.”

She bounced on her feet as she waited to hear the footsteps of her boyfriend, every passing second felt like an eternity. She flicked her eyes down to her watch, groaning at the time it displayed. They were supposed to have left over half an hour ago, and for once it wasn’t her fault that her boyfriend’s family was sitting around their house waiting for them to arrive. 

“Luke, I swear if you’re not out here in 30 seconds I’m going to lose my shit!”

And exactly 30 seconds later she heard the footsteps of her boyfriend climbing down the stairs, pulling his sweater on that was no doubt what she had laid out for him the night before. He jumped off the last step, ruffling his hand through his hair, flashing her a smile, “I’m ready.”

She only stared at him, anger shining in her eyes. Luke simply walked over and placed a kiss on her cheek, giving her an innocent look, “Don’t be mad at me.”

“We were supposed to leave 30 minutes ago, probably more now, and you’re over here taking your sweet ass fucking time-”

“Baby calm down, look at me,” He placed his hands on her arms, looking down at her with a comforting smile, “Everything's going to be okay. They’re not going to be mad at you, they’re not going to be mad at all. Well, maybe my mom will be but definitely not at you. Take a deep breath, alright?”

She sighed and ran a shaky hand over her coat, “Fine, but I’m still mad because I have to wear this,” she pulled on her red turtleneck, “because someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Luke’s boyish grin made its way onto his face as he slipped his new sneakers on, moving to open the door for her, “M’lady.”

She stepped through the doorway, making her way down the hallway as Luke trailed behind her, easily catching up to throw an arm around her shoulder and place a kiss on her temple. She softened slightly and looked up at him, a small smile gracing her lips. 

Maybe she was over-stressing just a little bit. It would be her and Luke’s ‘second’ Christmas together, but only her first with his family and it was getting to her head. She had met his family plenty of times before, even spending the summer at the lake house, and spending countless nights at Luke’s old apartment with Jack before he moved in with her. But something about the Christmas energy made her nervous, and something always seemed to go wrong when you put Luke Hughes, y/n y/l/n, and the Christmas spirit together. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The car ride to the Hughes’ house was quick and familiar, y/n watching the snow fall with nothing short of amusement and nervousness. Luke’s hand rested on her thigh, emanating a comforting feeling and a warmth that she could only associate with him.

She glanced over at him, watching as he removed his hand from her thigh to make the turn down his parents’ street. He was dressed in one of her favorite sweaters of his, it was a nice dark but muted blue that she always loved on him and the collar of his white dress shirt folded over the neckline. His legs were adorned with one of the many pairs of black jeans he owned and his favorite pair of new white sneakers on his feet. 

Luke looked over at her, a smirk on his face once he caught her staring, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, but thankfully the darkness that settled at only 4:00 pm covered it well. He held out his hand, making a small gesture to get her to place hers in his. Once she did, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed it,  “Whatcha lookin’ at pretty girl?”

“You.” Y/n replied in a murmur, curling up in the car seat as best as she could, “I did a good job at picking out your outfit.”

“‘Course you did, why do you think I let you?”

She only blushed more at his response, going back to look out the window just in time to see Ellen and Jim’s house come into view. A new wave of nerves settled over her as they pulled into the driveway. She felt Luke’s hand squeeze hers as he turned the car off, shifting to look at her.

Y/n looked over at him and smiled before glancing in the back seat. Her eyes widened as she saw the lack of her favorite Christmas dish, “Luke!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We forgot the pie.” She groaned, sitting back in her seat and throwing her head back against the headrest, “Fucking hell.”

“Y/n/n it’s okay, they’re not gonna-”

“That’s not the point Luke. I promised your mom I would bring something and now I forgot it.”

Luke’s face settled into a pout at the disappointment that tainted her face. He reached for her hand again, clutching it between both of his, allowing his thumb to rub over her knuckles, “Baby, listen, please. I know how well you wanted today to be, how perfect you wanted it to be. And I understand that them not being mad isn’t the problem.

“But they love you, probably more than me. They’re not going to be upset because you were having to deal with your childish boyfriend.”

She glanced over at his teasing tone, a huge smile on his face once he saw her lips turn up. She only let out a small ‘humph’ before responding, “You’re always making dumb jokes at the most inappropriate times.”

“I’m just trying to get my girl to smile, is that such a crime these days?”

“I suppose not, but you still have to make it up to me.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” A mischievous glint lit in his eye as he leaned closer to her.

“I don’t know.” She murmured quietly before replicating his actions, meeting his lips over the center console.

Luke grinned into the kiss before pulling away and leaving a small kiss on her forehead, “Let’s go, yeah?”

She nodded as she pulled away, climbing out of the car. She pulled her coat tighter around her, watching as Luke opened the trunk and grabbed the presents, stacking them on top of each other.

“Be careful Lukas, you know what happened last year.”

He rolled his eyes, making his way up the front steps after slamming the trunk closed. He knocked on the front door just as y/n walked up beside him, looping her arm through his.

Soon, the door opened and Jim stood in the entry of the house, “Hey you two.”

“Hi, Mr. Hughes!”

Jim took the presents from his youngest son, before gesturing them into the house, “How many times have Ellen and I told you to just call us by our names, Y/n?”

A sheepish grin made her way to her face, stepping inside of the Hughes’ house, and immediately she was met with the comforting atmosphere of the home. She moved to slip off her boots, but Luke’s hand placed on her lower back stopped her, “I got you.”

This only made her face flush more as Luke knelt down and unzipped her boots, sliding them off with ease. Her nervousness didn’t falter, however, slightly stumbling as Luke pulled her into the kitchen where his mom stood, “Hi momma.”

Ellen looked up from what she was doing, smiling much like him, “Hi! Oh, Luke why’d make the poor girl wait to be here? Probably stressed her out a ton.” She pulled her son into a hug, squeezing him tightly as she pestered him.

As she pulled away, she turned her attention to his girlfriend, her smile getting even wider if that was possible, “Hello sweetheart. Thank you so much for coming, we’re so happy to have you.”

Y/n hugged her back, “Thank you for having me! And you’re right, Luke did make me stress.”

The woman only briefly pulled away to swat at her son’s arm, who held his hands up in surrender before making his way over to where his brothers were, whatever that may have been. Ellen finally pulled out of the hug to continue working on the mashed potatoes.

The girl raised up on her toes as a nervous habit, “Do you need any help?”

“If you want to! You can start setting the table if you wish, dear.”

As she grabbed the plates and started setting the table, she released a small sigh before speaking up, “Also, I may have sort of forgotten the pie. I had it in the fridge and then I just got so flustered before we left that I forgot it.”

“Oh honey, it’s okay. I made extra dessert anyways because Jack always eats all of it.”

“I do not. That is extremely hurtful.” Jack walked into the kitchen, hand brushing an invisible piece of fuzz off his shirt, “Quinn helps too.”

He wrapped an arm around y/n’s shoulders, bringing her into a side hug, “And nice to see you y/n/n. Good job at dressing Luke.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his words, a small smirk playing on her lips, “I do try to make sure my boyfriend is dressed nicely. It seems you don’t have anyone to help you.”

He scoffed playfully, “I am wounded. You are supposed to be on my side here too.”

“If you’re going to be in the kitchen, you are going to be helping. Help y/n set the plates- Don’t whine at me, Jack.”

He grumbled, taking a stack of forks into his hands and placing them on the side of the plates. 

“Forks go on the left, Jacky. Knives go on the right, ” Y/n teased, now placing napkins on top of each plate, laughing as she heard another annoyed groan from him and watched his eyes roll.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After a while, dinner was nearing ready, y/n having spent most of the time in the kitchen talking with Ellen and helping out when she could. She wiped her hands on her skirt, trying to rid herself of the sweat that clung to them. 

“I’m just going to run to the bathroom quickly if that’s okay?”

Ellen laughed, “You don’t need to ask to go to the bathroom, hon. Just go, I’ll be fine here.”

She blushed, another wave of embarrassment washed over her as she took in her words, “Right.”

She started walking out of the kitchen, scolding herself softly at her actions, stop embarrassing yourself. She froze halfway out of the kitchen, backtracking once she realized she didn’t actually know where the bathroom was, “Mrs- Ellen? Where exactly is-”

“Down the hall and to your left, baby.” A hand fell on her shoulder and a kiss was placed on her temple. 

She turned to look at who it was, grinning when she saw the familiar face of her boyfriend, a lopsided grin that practically matched her own on his face. He kissed her head again, wrapping her up in a hug. He hadn’t seen her since they arrived, catching up with his dad and oldest brother in the living room as they watched whatever sports game was on. 

“Missed you.” He murmured into her ear, squeezing her a little tighter afterward.

“We’ve only been separated for what? 40 minutes?”

“Doesn’t matter, still missed you.”

They stayed like that for a minute before she reminded him softly that she had to go to the bathroom. He pulled away and walked over to his mom, starting up a conversation about something she had no clue about. She was already heading out of the kitchen and down the hallway when she heard them talk. 

She got halfway to the bathroom, looking down at her feet as she thought to herself, when her head knocked against something, groaning in pain, “Mother fucker-” She blinked the tears away that stung in her eyes, clutching her head. 

Once the tears were cleared enough that she could see, she saw Jack standing there, mirroring her actions with a hand to his head. He had been just heading out of the bathroom when it happened, thoughts also racing in his mind causing him to not look where he was going when he ran into her, heads meeting.

“Fucking hell that hurt.” He exclaimed, rubbing at the spot on his forehead that took most of the impact.

They didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just trying to ease their rapidly growing headaches. Once they both got it calmed down enough, they stared at each other before letting out laughs of amusement, “We really need to pay better attention to where we’re walking huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t need everyone to stare at my forehead and then explain that the Jack Hughes caused the bump.”

He ushered her forehead, planning to get him and y/n ice packs from the freezer, but when she took a step, black dots clouded at the edge of her vision causing her to stumble, just barely catching herself against the wall. She heard Jack’s curse, leaning into him as an arm came around her waist, “You okay?”

“Dizzy.” She murmured back, closing her eyes and opening them again, hopes of clearing her fuzzy vision failing. 

“Hold on. Luke!”

Y/n winced at Jack’s yell, pain worsening in her head. She could only give a soft nod of acknowledgment at his whispered apology, holding onto him tighter as she felt the overwhelming dizzy feeling wash over her. 

Luke came walking out of the kitchen, eyes drifting down the hallway, “What’re you yelling for?”

His gaze fell upon his brother and girlfriend, huddled together against a wall, a worried expression on the former and a pained one on the other, “What happened? Is she okay?”

He walked briskly to get to the two, immediately taking his girlfriend into his arms, pressing multiple soft kisses to her head, and rubbing her arm up and down, “What’s going on?”

“We knocked our heads together, was going to get us ice packs when she stumbled. Said she felt dizzy.”

“I’m fine, just dizzy like he said.”

Luke shook his head, tucking her into his side safely, walking them back to the kitchen to sit down, “Let’s get you some ice, sweet girl, c’mon.”

He sat her down on a chair, brushing the hair away from her face. He heard Jack mumble something to their mom but his focus was solely on his girlfriend, cupping her face and looking over her head. She winced as his thumb brushed over the point of impact, shaking her head slightly at his apology. 

There was a tap on Luke’s shoulder, Ellen now standing behind him with an ice pack wrapped in a towel in her hand, “Here. Put this on her forehead for ten minutes and then take it off.”

He nodded, taking the ice pack from her and placing it gently on y/n’s forehead. Ellen smiled softly before switching her gaze to the girl, “How’re you doing?”

“Could be worse,” she murmured, blinking slowly to clear her vision again. “Has to be the first time I’ve knocked heads with someone this hard.”

“That’s just because Jack has a big head.” A new voice entered the room and as best as she could, she moved her eyes to find the third Hughes brother.

“I do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Would you shut up?” Luke asked exasperated, pressing the ice pack a little harder into his girlfriend’s head as she winced from the noise.

“Sorry.” The two murmured.

“S’okay. Just fight quieter please if you’re going to fight.” She spoke up, leaning into the cold compress.

They nodded taking their seats at the table as they watched their younger brother and his girlfriend. Luke slowly took the icepack away from her head, placing it on the ground next to her chair. He moved the hair that had fallen back into her face, tucking it behind her ear, “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

He stands up, placing a kiss on her temple before sitting down next to her. The six of them start eating, easily falling into a conversation about hockey even after the multiple attempts Ellen had to end it. Y/n doesn’t mind it, her head is still pounding and even the thought of thinking about hockey is hurting it more.

She eats the majority of the food Luke has placed on her plate, taking her time and pushing it around slightly. She feels bad, she doesn’t want Ellen to feel like she doesn’t like the food, but it’s hard for her to focus right now and the knocking her head against Jack’s has left her more tired than she was when she arrived.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After dinner, the six of them all clean up, or y/n tries to and then is scolded by Luke and his mom to sit on the chair or go into the living room and lie down. So that’s where she was when Luke came and found her, curled up on one side of the couch, her head resting on the armrest.

“Hey,” he kisses her softly, sitting down next to her, “You want to head out?”

She went to protest, saying they hadn’t opened their gifts or even had dessert yet but the idea of going home sounded really appealing, so she nodded, using Luke’s help to stand up. They walked back to the kitchen, informing everyone that they were going to be heading back home. 

Luke grabbed the small platter of cookies and pieces of pie from his mom, y/n thanking her for him. They then made their way into the foyer where Luke helped her get her boots on, patting each thigh when he was done. 

They said their goodbyes and then walked down the driveway with gifts and dessert in hand, placing them in the backseat before climbing into the car.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Yeah, I feel better after eating.”

“That’s good.”

He pulled out of the driveway, making their way down the street when he heard her voice, “Can’t believe the first Christmas with your family we show up late, we forget the pie and I knocked heads with your brother.”

He chuckled, “Honestly, did you expect anything less?”

She thought about it, and no she didn’t expect less. Ever since she and Luke met their Christmases had been less than ideal. When they met, she knocked into him at a coffee shop, successfully spilling coffee all over herself and Luke. On their first Christmas together, Luke broke his gift for her, and she had to deal with a flustered and anxious Luke. And now this.

“You’re right. I think we’re just destined to have dumbass Christmases.”

“Hey, at least it’ll be my turn next year. Let’s hope I don’t break something.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

He did indeed break something, his arm. He was setting up Christmas lights around their house, it would be the first one in it. He didn’t know how it happened, all he knew was that one moment he was connecting sets of lights and the next he was on the ground clutching his arm in pain. It was a long night in the ER. 

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[sturniolo04]

No Nut November M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

A/n: in honor of it being November 30 we’re not gonna talk about how I’m late to the party!

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

You and matt knew this was coming. you guys do it you every year and every year you two never get through the 30 days. Which brings you to now, November 1st.

"baby we have to make it the full 30 this year"

matt groans out to you as you are leaning on your tippy toes hugging him as he allows his palms to rest on your ass. The first not so smart move he made

"hey thats not my fault you couldnt keep it in your pants on day 26"

you retaliate as you huff out leaning your head back as matt rolls his eyes at the memory.

" okay yeah i know but seriously this year because the last thing I need is for Chris to rub it in my face that he has more self control sexually than me with Brynn"

he groans out as you giggle at his reaction.

"baby what do yu think of this outfit"

you state as you let in into the dressing room with you after putting on the outfit.

"it looks good"

matt simply states back to you admiring you as you check yourself out in the dressing room mirror. Matt had been already genuinely struggling with this whole no sex , no getting himself off even thing for the whole month, why? Simple he has a girlfriend that he cant keep his hands off of and keeping his hands off has proven to be his downfall each year.

"c'mere"

matt simply states needing something to relieve the pressure that he knew was building up. You turn to look at him as he carefully grabs your hand and pulls you over to him as you sit down on his lap, not thinking too much of it because he is your boyfriend right

"Matthewww"

you gasp quietly not trying to be too loud since you two were in the dressing room still. Looking at him giggling you ultimately feeling the problem.

"i knoww"

he groans out allowing his head to lean against the wall. of the dressing room.

"its only day 15 babe come on get up"

you giggle standing up off of his lap as he quickly places his hands over his lap.

"in a minute i have to wait for this to go away"

he groans out with his head still leaning back fluttering his eyes closed.

"how long is that going to take we are in the dressing room and we have to go home"

you ask knowing it takes him and his friend a good 20 minutes to get it together.

"i dont know it's starting to hurt"

he huffs out exhaling deeply looking up at you.

"just tuck it or something"

you giggle at yourself even having to say that sentence to him as he complies.

"Babyy go put some pants on"

you whine out realizing he must have taken his pajama pants off in the middle of the night probably getting hot to be only left in his calvin kleins. You were starting to feel on edge already which you tend to be in the morning.

"why"

matt smirks knowing exactly why as he begins to stretch to go take a shower.

"dude seriously the fuck you mean why"

you whine out.

"babe im going to take a shower so I don't need them on and I'm eventually not going to need these on either"

matt states referring to his underwear as your face flushes with a shade of pink as the mental image you just got immediately reaching for the pillow you were laying on screaming into it.

"Dude you need to handle that"

chris chuckles as matt finally makes his way out from his room only dressed in freshlove sweatpants.

"i cant"

matt huffs out looking down to see the problem area running a frustrated hand through his messy bed head from his nap.

" im fully convinced you get horny every hour of the day"

chris chuckles seeming to not have the same struggle as his older brother.

"well no shit dumb ass you and brynn like never made it to that base yet"

matt huffs crossing his arms.

"Matt Chris"

you shout coming downstairs from Nick's room running up to matt and jumping up in his arms.

"hey my love"

matt greets you as he catches you his palms landing on your ass as you were clothed in navy blue nike pro shorts and the corresponding fresh love hoodie that you swiped from him that match the sweatpants he was currently wearing.

" what are you guys talking about"

you question the pair as you rest your head on matt's shoulder.

"oh nothing just how your boyfriend gets horny every single hour of everyday"

chris laughs out as you look at matt with his check flushed with a deep shade of pink.

"shut the fuck up"

matt groans out as he leans down with you still in his arms.

"dont drop me"

you squeal out tightening your grip around his neck

“God i would never’

Matt groans out as your ass slightly rubs up against him.

“Oh my goodness Matthew”

You giggle leaning you head in the crook of his neck leaving a loving kiss on his shoulder.

“What movie are we watching love birds”

Nick asks as you all are in the living room having your normal Friday movie night.

“I have no clue we could watch back to the future or something”

Chris suggests as brynn his girlfriend sits down next to him with their designated blanket.

“That’s fine with me where is your lover”

Nick chuckles asking Matt.

“Right here I had to change into comfortable clothes”

You states sighing you walk into the common space closing the bathroom door behind you as you begin to walk over in your pajama shorts to take your spot next to your boyfriend on the couch.

“Do we need a blanket”

You ask Matt softly as he places a loving grip on you bare thigh as Nick and Chris bicker about what movie we should watch tonight. Matt secretly loves that you decided to wear your pajama shorts already feeling the sudden tightness in his plaid pajama pants from how perfect the bottoms showcase, your hips and ass.

“ baby’

You question him again when you didn’t get a response. Matt quickly shifts his gaze towards you to make eye contact snapping him out of what it looked like a moment of deep thought from what you could read from his given facial expression.

“ you Okay”

You  ask as he lets out a deep sigh. Matt, finally, giving up and beginning to act on his intrusive thoughts, stand up from the couch, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder with his tattooed, arms tightly gripping your thighs 

“ Matthewww where are we going”

You squeal out from the sudden action Play fully kicking your feet 

“ chris’ you win I give up “

Matt quickly rushes out as he begins to walk towards his in your shared bedroom in the house. it was safe to say that you two decided not to put yourself through the November challenge ever again 

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @wh0resstuff @emely9274 @ksturnz @spicymuffins03 @dirtylittleheart333 @stayingstromboli

[fushigogo]

† yo no te voy a decir que me lo gané con mi trabajo honrado. yo me lo gané a base de cogidas y no me da pena decirlo, pueblo — nanami kento

synopsis: despite people don’t have the best perception about you, since rumors’ been spreading throughout your career, fucking president kento has its benefits and it’s not your fault people can’t fuck their way up to the top.

content warning: reporter reader x president kento, reader says dumb shit you cannot even believe kento’s fucking her, but let’s pretend it makes sense, slutshaming, manhandling, degradation, spanking.

“well, recent rumors have been said about me and i want to use our program to clarify some stuff.” the papers in which your most juicy gossip was written down, now remain on the table. your forced smile showed your neat teeth, almost ready to rant. your co-workers, geto and satoru, were paying full attention of what you had to say. “there’s been recent rumors about how i got my house in the hamptons and i need to clarify that i bought it with the sweat and hard work this program has given me!”

“exactly,” geto agreed.

“yeah, if you could buy that house it was thanks to your hard work.” satoru added.

“it’s just not my fault you couldn’t get the same things as me. i’ve never stolen from anyone. i’m not ashamed to admit that if right now, my dear viewers, that if i’m where i am right now, was thanks to all the dicks i had to suck.” you stated proudly and geto and satoru agreed with every word you said.

after having talked shit about famous people, passing on reports that you asked the interns to modify them to be exaggerated in order to make the stars look bad, the program was finally out of air.

“that was fucked up, y/n.” geto said, rubbing pads around his temples, trying to assimilate what just had happened.

“yeah, i know, but fucking show is what this bitches want.” you argued, lighting a cigarette as you turned your back to your friends and added: “see you guys tomorrow.” you waved.

“going to your hamptons house, dear?” gojo teased playfully. fuck you wish they weren’t like this, and geto giggled, since the three of you knew what they meant.

“tsk, you’re literally the worst.”

you close the door behind you. he was already waiting, like a carnivore waiting for its prey, but this one is more civilized and he’s sitting on your couch (not to mention it rules the fucking country). even from afar, even with the dim light, you could see his already stiffen cock, making a bulge inside his pants. his legs are spread.

his grin, you can tell it’s wicked, whimsical. you understand that, you made him wait for so long, giving him enough time to think about all the things he can do to you.

“i’m so sorry, babe, traffic was a nightmare.” you soften your voice and give little hops with your shoes to get closer to him.

“how’s my lady doing?” as you accommodate yourself in one of his thighs, you rock your body and your hip can feel his engorged cock, gnawing and waiting to be released.

“fine, thank you, mr. president.” you tantalize him, arms around his neck. his aroma is mesmerizing, that expensive cologne that drove you crazy and then impregnated in your clothes.

his big hands surround your thigh, and your clit is starting to palpitate, knowing what’s going to happen next. you bite your lip and he notices right away.

“is it true that all of this house you buy it by yourself?” he asks, playing with the flesh of your legs, wanting to go further. however, he wanders in the same places, as if something holds him back.

“well, baby, you know that i cannot let everyone know you bought it. besides, it has taken me a lot of work.” you whisper to his ear and latch onto him.

your legs manage to open up, of course, he knows your dark intentions: open the legs so he can roam around into your crotch. nevertheless, he’s mad. despite how badly you wanted to save your “reputation” it hurts his ego being denied. he knows he can’t take revenge in public.

so he does it here, privately.

“you like to despise me, don’t you, precious?” his eyes examined you, as he savored with his tongue what he was going to say, “didn’t you say that sucking cock got you in the place you are right now.”

he lifted your skirt, toying your ass, barely clothed with thongs. then, a slap caught your ass off guard, jiggling. your voice gasped and mewled. and your clit was throbbing, praying for him to lose control.

he stands up and unbuckles his belt, releasing his pulsating, gnawing girth, finally able to breath. after that, you kneeled down, because you wanted to savour his fat, veiny cock, which was already having droplets of pre-cum.

your hands barely fill the thick shaft and staring at him deadly at your eyes. he loosened the collar of his shirt, as if the soft touch of your lips on the tip of cock makes his body simmer.

you lips wrap around and introduce it in your mouth. fuck, the way you manage to do it slowly... he knows it’s not because you can’t take it, it is because you love to tease him. you’re mocking him, claiming, bragging about all of the dicks you had to gobble.

so, he grabs your hair and starts thrust your mouth. your eyes close as you loosen your jaw and feel him going in and out.

when you finally separate, he made you lift your leg at the edge of the table that was next to the sofa, having a good sight of your cunt wide spread. he was so starved, desperate to demonstrate who was the one in charge, he just put aside the cloth that was covering your pussy and started ramming his cock inside of you.

“this is how you bought the house, don’t you sweetheart? boss was generous, didn’t he?” he hoarse to your ear, breathing heavily. he spanked your ass as his thrust, delved into your soft spot.

you mewled at his touch, at the way he was sundering his shaft, taking him so well, feeling the stretching so good, hitting your sweet spot.

“yeah.” your voice trembled and it extended to make it almost high-pitched.

“such a good slut, never taking from people who’s below her.” he gritted teeth.

“yeah, i’m such a good person.”you gulped and kept moaning.

he came inside you and you knew that satoru and geto will make fun of you.

[sweetflanfiction]

Assymetrical Symphony - Part 12

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: Still on vacations!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10

• ··········· • ············ •

In a very proficient succession of moves, Viktor had grabbed his keys from his bag, locked the front door—something he wasn’t supposed to do because of the council’s shenanigans, but Viktor hardly ever did what he was told—and had opened the door, holding it open for you.

Shaking your head at his antics, you made your way to the room and short of going inside. A butterfly had flapped its wings somewhere down the space and time lines, and what was once a spacious room was now nothing more than a broom closet.

“I know it is not ideal, but…it’s this or the hexcore room.” You heard behind you and cleared your throat.

“This is… um… fine…” You nodded and walked to the back of the room, which was exactly a small step forward, and turned back to the door.

Viktor walked behind you and closed the door, leaving both of you in darkness. He shuffled to get himself in a comfortable standing position, his cane leaning on the shelf behind you.

You knew if you could see anything but the soft glow of the room outside from under the door, you’d be face to face with his chin, having to still tilt your head up to look at him whenever you were in close quarters. You shook your head and cleared your throat to get your mind back on track. He took half a step back, completely oblivious of your thoughts, and you did the same, the shelves behind you carving a dent into your back. 

“Alright. The baseline for your starlight rune is about fifteen minutes.”

“Starlight rune?”

“I told you I wasn’t good with names…Do the rune with the new variant.”

The glove came off with a practiced tug, and the small room was slightly illuminated by the blue glow. You saw Viktor's hand immediately shoot up to touch it again, his never-ending curiosity getting the best of him. Your hand twitched in anticipation of the contact, and he stopped short of actually touching it.

“Sorry, it’s not you…it’s…” You started but couldn’t finish when you realized that it was in fact because of him.

“Don’t worry. It’s my fault…Learn not to touch anything before checking it’s safe... Truly, it’s the worst... I have a few scars to show for it.” He used the glow of your hand to touch a few small scars on his palm.

SVRCINA - Astronomical

You laughed quietly, tracing the rune for the tiny lights in the air, adding the small symbol on the top right of it. A flick of the wrist and up they went. Viktor tapped his fingers on his thigh, counting the time, his neck stretched up to look at the ceiling.

The endlessness of darkness is hovering. The sound of the silence is deafening. Ten billion decibels shattering

The opportunity presented itself to look at him in detail. On the forefront of your mind was the need to find any difference from your Viktor. On the back of it, the hope that there was none. 

The shimmering lights gave his already pale skin an even white tinge, but you could see the small freckles and skin marks he had running behind the collar of his shirt. His jaw was still sharp and angled, and his cheeks high; you peeked at the beauty mark under his eyes, and he still chewed on the inside of his mouth when he was thinking hard. Your eyes shifted down to take notice of his breathing. Closing your eyes, you listened to it. Clean, no wheezing, no strain. 

I'm drawn to the unknown where shadows hide. A slave to the powers that magnetize There's something inside of me I can't fight.

The smell of mint and cinnamon filled your nostrils. You had forgotten the height difference, the gentle way his breathing would make his chest rise and fall on his better days. You’d forgotten the time before he became consumed with legacy. You’d forgotten he was once flesh and blood and warmth.

You heard the shift in breathing before you heard the quiet laugh and looked up at him. True to his word, he had a hand outstretched, touching the tiny specks of light floating above you.

Weightlessness forsaking me. This pull is astronomical.

“Fascinating.” He murmured, his long fingers swirling around the shimmer. “It’s cold, but…not unpleasant.”

Viktor’s smile never faltered, a pleasant sound coming from his throat. The floating orbs just floated around the tips of his fingers, like smoke around a tree branch.

He moved his fingers to grab one of the lights, and your breath got caught in your throat. You really should stop him, but the gentleness of his long fingers as he swirled them around the smoke, nudging the smaller nodes away to grab a bigger one, left you hypnotized and mute.

Viktor’s fist closed around a glowing marble, and it burst like a soap bubble, breaking into tiny wisps of glitter and regrouping again after they passed his fist.

Can anybody... Anybody... Can anybody stop me?

You looked at his face; the usually warm golden eyes have taken a paler palette with the white cold light reflecting on them. His lips were curled up in a soft, wondrous smile that reminded you of a child; his long neck was stretched upwards, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed his amusement. It was new... this was new...

It hit you like a ton of bricks that even though you’d seen this man in almost any state of mind, this childish wonder was something you never noticed. You were far more preoccupied with keeping him alive than finding something that gave him this type of feeling. Even if in the end, whatever feelings he had were gone.

Ooh, this pull is astronomical.

“You’re staring again…” He snickered, and you nodded.

“You remind me of someone…” 

“Hopefully a good someone…”He looked down and smirked at you.

“Heh…He had his moments... You cleared your throat. "Shall we test the other theory perhaps?”

Viktor nodded and had once again craned his neck upwards. You did the rune and added the coda symbol on the same corner as the infinity symbol and flicked your wrist up.

The rune disappeared, but the stars stayed. You both locked eyes with each other and then looked at your hand, as if it was to blame for the lackluster results.

“Maybe it’s the symbol? Or the intention?”

“Perhaps…what have you been setting as the intention for this one?”

“Just…light up. The first time it appeared, I was in a dark room, so light seemed the best option.”

“Maybe think…dark…or…off.”

Shaking your shoulder to release some tension, you drew the rune, drew the coda, and set it free with a very defined 'turn the light off' intention.

“Rune… intention… push forward…” Viktor repeated, his eyes darting around the darkened room. “Rune…intention…push forward…”

“I could try other symbols…”

He nodded, and you started to add symbols to the rune. An exclamation point, a dot, two dots, an X, the actual word STOP. But nothing seemed to be the floating little light from floating.

“You push it forward…” He raised a hand and placed it next to yours, palm up. The glow of your hand casting a light on the side of his hand

He drew the rune with his index and middle fingers and flicked the wrist up. By the third time he did it, you mirrored his movements, you drew the rune and the suffix you had initially given it, and flicked it up. Nothing.

The small blue brush strokes grew in brightness as you finished the drawing. The rune itself was a dainty thing, swirly with a loop and a dash. It was your favorite rune to draw, you thought at that moment.

“Rune…intention…push it forward.” You both whispered in sync as your hands danced in well-choreographed movements.

“Of course…” You heard Viktor exclaim and looked up at him, but his eyes were still on your hands.

He turned his hand so that it was hovering on top of yours without touching, his long fingers by your wrist, yours under his own joint. He drew the rune, like he was stroking your wrist. A shiver ran down your arm, but you mimicked him like before and drew your own rune. When you flicked your hand up, your fingers touched his wrist with a soft thud, but his hand did the opposite movement; instead of moving downwards—since he was mirroring your movements—he pulled back, his hand arching back.

“It makes sense…you speak the rune…” He made the motion again, you repeated. “You set the intent and…”

You both snapped your hands backwards. The rune shimmered, and the floating lights shot towards your hand, leaving the room in darkness in a blink of an eye, the only sound the slight heavy breathing from the sudden shift in brightness.

"You pull it back." Viktor whispered. 

"That's..." You thought about saying smart, but this was Viktor, one of the most intelligent people you've met.

"Unlike words, once you speak the runes, you can take them back, and everything goes back to normal."

"Words can be taken back." You said, moving your hand up and feeling his wrist still hovering there. 

You let your fingers touch his wrist, gently flattening them against his skin, your thumb softly grasping his forearm. You felt his own hand rest on top of yours. You could see the blue light engulfing his hand.

"They hurt all the same." He softly whispered.

"Pains and aches, eh?" You heard him chuckle. "The mending rune... I can sustain it now. Imagine being able to keep something from breaking."

"You have to be careful. Magic is not free. There will be a toll to pay.” His voice shifted and something mechanical. 

“I’m actually doing this…I’m learning... and adapting... and”

“Evolving…” A mechanical low voice came from where he was, but you didn’t feel it like last time.

“What?” Your eyes snapped up to where his should be.

“What?” He looked at you confused, and you shook your head, dismissing it.

A second of silence until you heard a quiet laugh come from him.

“This is... real magic. It’s just like we thought. Exactly like we thought. The books were right. The hextech is an almost exact copy of what actual magic is.” 

“Viktor…breathe…”

“I’m breathing…I’m breathing..." He moved his hand away, pushing a hand through his hair. "We are finding ways to control wild runes.”

“Don’t look wild to me. That one actually looked like it was meticulously drawn.”

“They are wild because they are natural, not because they are unpredictable.” He grabbed the door handle with one hand, his cane with the other, and pushed the door open. “I need to write this down.”

He was halfway out the door when he stopped abruptly, and you managed to stop just in time by placing your hands on his back, almost throwing him off balance and to the floor. A hand on his elbow balanced him out.

“Good gods, Vik… What the..." You started but then looked at what—or who—was staring at.

“You two kids wanna to tell me why you were inside a dark closet?” Jayce inquired, his lips curling up on one side, his eyebrow going up on the same side.

Viktor straightened up quickly, and you did the same, more flustered about the almost tumble than Jayce’s questions. 

“Nothing.” Viktor quickly answered

“Magic.” You said at the same time, with the taller man’s face snapping to yours, mouth agape at your nonchalant tone.

“What?” You shrugged as you walked past him to the table.

“What kind of magic?” Jayce’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively. 

“Jayce!” Viktor, whose gaze had been following you around the room, snapped to Jayce.

“The actual magical kind.” You pulled the glove back on your hand. “The rune one.”

“Oh…eh…that’s fun too, I guess.” The broader man shrugged.

“How’s Mel?” You retorted.

“Magical…” He sighed and then winked at you.

You looked at him, face blank, and shook your head; he gave a goofy lovesick smile, and you groaned dramatically to emphasize you were joking.

“She does have some news for us about the council…shenanigans…” Jayce straightened up and leaned on the table.

“No…no…nonono.” Viktor shook his head and strode towards both of you, a small scowl of confusion on his face. “We are not just going to breeze by this… What is happening…? When did this happen?”

Jayce looked between Viktor, you, and then pointed to himself.

“Kid who jumped places because a mage decided to save his life…” He pointed at you. “Actual Mage.”

You were happy that he didn’t add the rest of his sentence about you.

“Wait…they know about the…happening?” Viktor looked at Jayce with wide eyes.

“They do.” Jayce nodded, and Viktor turned his eyes to you.

“And he knows about the runes?”

“He does.”

Viktor looked at the ceiling of the lab, taking a deep breath, while these pieces of information all fit in his head. When he was satisfied, he looked back down to you and Jayce, nodding. 

“All right… all right…” He walked over to where Jayce was leaning on the table and you were seated on a stool. “What did Mel say?”

“They have a date for the council meeting.”

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat

[cinnablu3]

RECKLESS - We listen and do just judge

Masterlist

Officially we have 5 more chapters to go! As Reckless is reaching its end. There might be more if I can't finish within the five chapters.

In your apartment early peaceful silence, Utahime and you are quietly eating cereal.

"Name, I wasn't going to bring it up but it's bothering me..Well with how everything went down." Utahime speaks up

"What exactly is bothering you Hime?" You responded calmly, maybe too calm. She raises a brow at you.

"How did Satoru reach you or even kiss you? Did he force himself ?" She sounded upset.

"NO! Never! Satoru isn't one to do something without consent." You sigh. "But I need to get something off my chest."

"Which is?"

"I agreed to the kiss." You blurt out, immediately Utahime stands up and hands are slammed on the table.

"EXCUSE ME!" She yells scaring you, she blinks before sinking down back to her seat. "Sorry.." She mumbles looking off to the side. "You need to tell me everything." She looks up at you.

"One moment I'm waiting for Choso and the next Satoru pops up next to me begging me back and he kisses me, well to sum up everything in a nutshell." You look ashamed, "But if I told you the whole story, you can't judge." You look at Utahime, who's already making a face.

"Do you know who you're talking to?"

You sighed in response knowing she's going to regardless and you don't really blame her.

The party is in full swing, everyone dancing, drinking and music. Choso and you were standing talking and drinking before he excused himself to grab water for the both of you.

Maybe 2 minutes, maybe 3 minutes went by, a familiar pair of arm wraps around your shoulders. Immediately tensing up, it couldn't be him right? Knowing who these pairs of arms belong to. You turned around and see him. "Satoru." Immediately leaving your lips.

He gives a small painful smile. "I'm happy you can even say my name still." He gives you a tight hug, a familiar grip you deeply miss. "Please let go of me Satoru."

"Name please, I can change."

"I left her."

"She meant nothing."

"Please I'll be more supportive and be loyal to you once more."

Hearing his excuse after another just trying process why are you still letting him hold you immediately pulling away.

He noticed you pull away trying to find a way to keep you close once more. "Can I kiss you? He begged.

"Yes." Like an instinct response to you. He pulls you close cupping your face before pressing his lips against yours. Yet it didn't feel right, this kiss just proved it. The realization hits you just a bit too late. Unaware someone had snapped a picture.

The kiss breaks forcibly as Choso pushes Satoru away, separating him from you. "ARE YOU INSANE FORCING YOURSELF ON NAME!" He barked, Satoru shaking his head. "It's not like that, we were just talking."

"Name did you like the kiss? Was it the same?" Ignoring Choso as he tries to get closer. "You still feel the same spark right? Name tell him, you did please?" He sounded desperate as Choso looks disgusted, pushing Satoru away the more he tried get closer.

He eventually got fed up with the pushing as he closed his fist and swung a punch at Choso's face. The crowd is starting to get drawn, as people start reaching their phones to record. Choso was stunned immediately punching back. Everything was a blur from that moment.

You try to piece your memory, how both were on the ground as Choso got the upper hand as he repeatedly bruised Satoru's face. Geto and other guys stepped in separating the two, Sirens are closing in the background. Everything had become white noise, realizing this is all your fault.

"Name you're crying again." Utahime spoke, You look up at her in tears.

"Hime this is really my fault." You whimpered hiding your face in your hands immediately she reaches over to you and hugs you.

"Yeah it is." She hums, You look at her. "Well did you want me to lie? Name, you put two people in jail."

"No but--"There's no excuse." She injects, "Name, are you serious about Choso?"

"I want forget about Satoru and be serious with him hime."

"Then tell Choso about everything and officially cut ties with Satoru. Completely." She sounded serious.

"I will, I want to be a better person especially for Choso. Gosh I'm actually stupid.." You wipe your tears.

"Just a little. Though I know he'll understand, he just seems like that type of person." She kisses your forehead. "Everything will be fine in some twisted way I know, I promise."

Taglist is now closed and full 💞 @miiiturix @superdonkeypatroleggs @inthedarkshadows000 @kumori-suwan @chilichopsticks @prized-jules 1ndee @lov3vivian @yuuuumii @chiiinglebells @sakurayashiro @ghostlyfanenemy @cisseadven @totallygyomeiswife bemebiu @chckn-pi @for-hearthand-home @sh0ot1ngst4r @muthic @lukaerith-morningstar meowforluv @uniquenicefangirl @4rmins @corvid007 @beautifulwitchcandy @iluv-ace @tartartagliaboo @genxnarumi lafrone @coffee-addicted-demigod @cupidsblonde depressedemosantaclaus @drownedbytears @s777athv @linaaeatsfamilies @lun4rchive @moonlitwitchdaisy @kooksbunnnn @shoma-nom @reagan707 @kaged-kitty b0nez9 btsinthesoop @shokosbunny @sleepykittyenergy @sad-darksoul @ghostswhoretbh @raquel12 @missthatgirl @explosivelywuisa @bunviixo @rifran @therealanxiety @harryzcherry

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi!! this is my first time requesting anything but i was wondering if you could do creepypasta boys were you kiss / compliment there scars!

Kissing their scars (various crp)

Bro I scratched my skin right next to this burn last week and it HURTS so bad

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack

Notes: Reader is GN, fluff, these boys need help

CWs: talks of violence in.. well all of them, mentioned of self harm in Jeff's part

Jeff

You decide to kiss the gashes in his cheeks, the ones that he carved.. he never really viewed them as anything very negative; sure it reminds him of the night he killed his entire gamily.. a fact he has a very wishy washy feeling of guilt over depending on the day

At first he thinks you're trying to kiss his cheeks but you make it very clear what you're trying to do when you begin to compliment them- they've healed so well since theyve been put there

Between the three he tries to play it off the most, of course it looks nice- they make him beautiful, and he always will be beautiful! What are you talking about reader?

Hes not at all willing to be vulnerable around you, it doesnt matter how long you two know each other or how close you get he never.. really let's himself just be in his feelings around others

But just know that hes going to be sitting in bed tonight looking up at the ceiling replaying what you've said and going back over the events that lead him here- rare moment of self reflection essentially

But to your face.. hes just the same as hes always been, even teasing you for having such a huuuge crush on him- bonus if the two of you are already dating

Eyeless Jack

You rarely ever get to see him without the mask, but when you do.. it's best not to do something like this the first time you see his eye sockets- hes very cagey about his face in the first place and hes not quiet ready to handle more attention drawn to it. The first few times it's off it's best to meet it with indifference

But when more time passes, you're more than welcome to test the waters. You already knew Jack had a fair collection of scars, but there was a different feel to the burned and gashed holes where his eyes would have been

He wont let you kiss him, mostly because hes unsure of what exactly the goo was made of, as well as naturally not liking the idea of someone putting their mouth where his eyes just to be- but you're allowed to trace your fingers along the scar tissue

Hes never going to tell you what happened unless theres a reason to, hes very firm when setting this boundary. It's just something that makes him feel.. gross..

He already doesn't talk much but he becomes silent as you trace your fingers and talk to him

He might go back to wearing his mask all the time again for a while but it's not exactly your fault, it was just a huge step- it's okay to back up a bit to process things

Ticci Toby

Due to his CIPA he has a bit of a disconnect between him and his injuries, scars included. He didnt really feel them when they were being made, sure he may have felt some pressure depending on what caused it but other than that, nothing really.. for a lot of them he doesnt have much thoughts- neither good nor bad

The only ones that really make him feel something are the ones he sustained from the crash- they're scattered across his body...

If you kissed or complimented any other scar he would tease you for being a little "weird", even making it a game to guess where he got the current scar from- with outlandish answers of course

But the second you reach one of /those/ scars the fun is immediately cut, you can tell theres something off

Similar to Jack, its something that has to be eased into due to the weight associated with the injuries. It's not the fact that it hurt when he got them but they serve as a reminder of what he lost

The only one who really tries to change the subject, perhaps by asking if you have any scars or markings on your body or simply changing the subject all together

Probably the only one who wouldn't want to be complimented due to the nature of some of his scars

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

dark raphael, possessive/jealous devil, devils being devils i guess

Read on AO3

-

“Mm…Haarlep…”

It’s over the moment that single word leaves your mouth. The strange, moody tension that’s been strangling the room reaches its crescendo. Raphael’s fraying patience snaps. Bursts into flame just like the shattered glass of wine in his hand.

“Enough.”

He’s at the bed in the blink of an eye, snarling like the fiend he is. Sharp shining teeth bared. He grabs Haarlep by the hair, twists, and rips the incubus away. Haarlep lands in a sprawled heap on the ground, but they don’t look pained or even angry. Insidious amusement paints their borrowed features instead, because this is exactly what they’ve been waiting for. What they knew was going to happen from the start.

“Leave,” barks Raphael, addressing Haarlep but never taking his dark eyes off you, naked and trembling on his red velvet sheets. “Now.”

Haarlep blows you a kiss and vanishes. You’re alone with your master. The man who owns you, literally, body and soul. The man who put you in this bed in the first place. It’s easier to watch his tail angrily thrash to and fro than it is to look him in the face. His gaze burns, devours you. Claims what is already his. He seethes with arousal, and jealousy. You’re afraid, confused, but your mind is so foggy with Haarlep’s aphrodisiac that Raphael’s mercurial temper only makes him more desirable. Only makes the ache in your cunt stronger.

“My little pet,” he murmurs, deliberate emphasis on every word. He looms over you. Grabs your chin, squeezing just hard enough to hurt. Presses the tip of his thumb claw on the soft plush of your bottom lip, pushing until blood beads beneath it. You whimper; nuzzle into his touch in the same breath. “There is only one name that should be uttered from your lips. Mine.”

“I’m sorry,” you plead, knowing it’s not enough to mollify him. This isn’t your fault. It’s his. But you’ll be punished for it anyway, because a devil like him isn’t going to admit he was wrong. He isn’t going to confess that he’s letting his jealous, coveting nature get the better of him. No, instead he’s going to do what he always does: indulge.

It was his idea to let you “play” with Haarlep. You were reluctant, your animosity towards the incubus stagnant yet secure, but it was what Raphael seemed to want, now that he and his pet demon are on touching terms once more. You’re always so good for Raphael, your Master. So obedient. Of course you couldn’t say no, and as soon as Haarlep’s spittle got to work, you forgot all of your gripes with them anyway.

Raphael, however, did not.

Maybe he thought he’d enjoy watching his likeness take you apart in sexual ruin, like he had countless times before with countless different people. Maybe he thought he was “rewarding” you for your loyalty and dedication. Maybe he just didn’t consider that he’d feel so possessive over such a mundane, unremarkable trinket like your soul. He has thousands upon thousands, after all. There is nothing particularly special about yours. And yet, even as arousal coursed through his body and fattened his cock while he watched and felt the things Haarlep was doing to you, he’d clawed gouges into the armrest of the chaise where he’d been sitting – his private seat of power. Glared at your entwined bodies with mounting hate and envy.

It’s a beautiful and terrible reality, to be an object of Raphael’s affection. That’s the one and only thing you and Haarlep could ever agree on.

“Say it,” Raphael commands, slowly tightening his grip.

“Ah…say what?” It’s tough to think. You fight to stop yourself squirming, from rubbing your damp thighs together for some friction on your lonely, swollen clit.

“My name.” He’s holding you so tightly your bones creak. Instinctively you buck against him, gasping when your cunt throbs. Hungrily drools slick.

“Raphael!”

“Yes,” the devil hisses, eyes glittering in satisfaction at your small torment. He climbs onto the bed, crawls on top of you. Crushes you with his size and weight. The huge canopy of his wings block out the sight of all but him. His breath scalds your lips and cheeks, smells like smoke and wine. “You are mine. You belong to me. I own everything you are, and everything you ever will be. Never again will you think of another. Never will a name that isn’t mine tumble so sweetly from your lips. I am your eternity.”

He is your past, your present, your future. The Master of the House. His law, His word.

“Yes, Raphael!” You choke out. He’s squeezing your throat now. A trickle of blood leaks from your lip. His long forked tongue eagerly slurps it up, lingering on the wound he made. Tears well in your eyes but don’t fall, not yet. Tears of pain. Tears of frustration.

“There, now. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Raphael croons. You jolt when he wedges his thick thigh between yours. Your body moves without your input, grinding your wet cunt desperately against the surface offered to you. Black spots appear in the corners of your vision. He cuts off your airway to the point where you can barely breathe. You’ve always been afraid of suffocation, but with incubus spit muddling your senses, the endorphins and adrenaline just fan the raging flames of your desire. You rut harder against Raphael, mewling like a bitch. He sneers. “How pathetic.”

Yet, when he clicks his fingers and his clothes disappear, his cherry-red cock is so hard and heavy with blood it can barely stand up. Pearlescent globs of precum leak from its tip, catching on ridges, barbs and veins. His balls hang fat and flush and full, begging to be emptied. Sweat beads at his temples. His pupils expand to consume his fiery irises. As always, his biology gives him away, and such interesting biology it is. He runs hot, almost unbearably so, his rough and scaly skin near-scalding the sensitive flesh of your mons. You whine and whinge even as you press yourself closer, growing faint and weak from lack of oxygen. Instinct makes you flail and scratch at your Master. You would never try to hurt him otherwise. You adore him. You worship him.

He entertains himself for a moment watching you struggle. Watching you wonder if he intends to snuff the life out of your fragile mortal shell, unable to do anything but pine for a release of any kind. Fuck me, kill me, whatever you want. You can’t die, not in the traditional sense. Your soul is bound to Raphael, to the House of Hope. He’s murdered debtors before in fits of rage and they always end up roaming the halls again eventually. You don’t find out how today. He lets go of you, lets you suck in huge gulps of air. So magnanimous even in his disdain. Every heaving gasp is glorious, orgasmic. Your lungs burn. You burn. Raphael watches it all with black, sadistic pleasure. A crown of twisted horns upon his head for a king of sadism.

“Say it again,” he demands.

“Raphael,” you rasp. Obedient to a fault.

The devil growls. Thin lips peel back over his fangs. He manhandles you, grabbing your legs to part them further, push your knees up by your head to better expose your weeping cunt. He’s not gentle. His claws raze stinging welts down the backs of your thighs. He’s done toying. He wants to fuck. He wants to come. He wants.

He’s too big like this. He won’t fit. He doesn’t care.

One brutal, precise snap of his hips and he stuffs his infernal cock deep inside your cunt. You’re so wet he slides right in and just keeps going. The sound is obscene, but you can’t hear it. You’re screaming. The agony of his vicious prick, barbed and fat and intrusive, is also ecstasy. Union. Hurtling you into the abyss of orgasm you’ve teetered at the edge of for what feels like forever. You writhe and you cry and you sob and you beg, your cunt clenching hard, milking Raphael’s cock with every contraction. He endures it for barely a moment. This isn’t about you.

“Such a good pet,” he snarls, grunting with effort. His rhythm is cruel, fast, his thrusts unforgiving. Sloppy. He’s still upset. Will be until he’s satisfied. He cannot and will not be reasoned with until then. “Haarlep won’t touch you ever again. No one will. Only me. Isn’t that right?”

“Yuh-yes,” you eke out. Wracked by pain and pleasure in tandem. The kind that strikes you dumb, that brands itself into every iota of your being. Imprints a legacy upon you that you will spend the rest of the forever attempting to achieve again. You can’t tell where one ends and the other begins, and Raphael is not here to help you navigate the waters. He’s the one drowning you. He crowds you, fucks deeper, harder, yearning for your womb’s slick, soft squeeze. Rocks your body with each flex. His tight balls bump your backside. Every nudge of your clit when your pelvises meet sends a lance racing up your spine. The head of his cock kisses your cervix, demands entrance. He pants, open-mouthed, eyes half-lidded. Groans in delirious delight when he sees the tears finally streaming down your cheeks. Feasts on them. You’re so overstimulated even his slippery tongue feels like broken glass. Gods it hurts so good.

“Delicious,” purrs the devil. He’s unravelling. “Sweeter than all the wines of Baator. And it’s all for me.”

He pushes his face into the crook of your neck, and when he comes – a great, shuddering climax, his cock erupting into your womb with spurts of liquid heat, more and more and more – he bites down, making a perfect imprint of his teeth into your nubile, sweat-slicked flesh. You squeal, you can’t help it. He seems to like that, if the throb of his cock and its extra squirt or two of cum is anything to go by. Raphael stays there, breathing hard through his nose, muscles twitching as he rides out his orgasm. All you can do is lay still and grip the bed. You’ve never felt so full. Eventually, when he softens and pulls out, the two of you moan in unison for different reasons, copious amounts of his seed leaking from your bruised, aching hole to stain the sheets. The devil lays on his side, satiated (for now). You, however…

With the greatest highs come even greater lows. Haarlep’s venom is wearing off, taking with it the cushion of pleasure protecting you from the full force of Raphael’s harsh treatment. Bruising around your throat, scratches and bites and stretched ligaments… Of course, your cunt has it the worst. What starts as a dull, yawning ache becomes sharp, searing. Your fingers and toes curl with the effort not to howl. You couldn’t anyway, your voice too raw from screaming. What you make instead is a quiet keen of distress. Raphael, who was perhaps dozing, takes notice.

“Oh, you poor little thing,” he croons lazily, only after admiring his work. The state of you. There’s no real sympathy in his voice. No regret. You didn’t expect any. In a show of mercy, however, he does click his fingers and move the two of you into his rejuvenation pool. You’re soothed in an instant. Except for the bite. Raphael makes it very clear that’s there to stay.

[goawaypopup]

Look Outside Posting Part 4: Sybil

Today, a little on the most mysterious character in the game.

Having established that she is probably the fleshy stuff everywhere else in the building, Apartment 35 is definitely her core, or base, or something. Whether it's full to the brim with meat with two blue little eyeballs at the cracks in the walls, she's budded off a fresh, separate body in there, or that room is some kind of Schrodinger's time anomaly.

If you interrogated Beryl, you'll know that she knew Sybil was in Apartment 12, not 35. But, crucially, something i haven't seen anyone else mention: Sybil did live in 35. The game takes place in March; Edwin's ledger of equipment loans shows Sybil borrowing a telescope, in Apartment 35, in February of the previous year. She moved out, and into 12, at some point in the interim. (Edit: Tragically, it has come to my attention that in the latest update the ledger is fixed to show her in 12, after all. She just showed up in this room to stare at Sam, I guess.)

What remain of Sybil's memories and knowledge show that this can't be an unrelated Sybil. Beryl was the first to join the group (Jasper taking care of Sybil, and Edwin sort of off to the side providing tools). She met Sybil only a few months before the game's events, after she had already witnessed the Visitor, and when she was already in the new apartment. Neither Beryl nor the others after her ever knew Sybil in Apartment 35, and she's the only one you mention it to, so they never find out about her.

The thing that makes Sybil so clearly pivotal, even if it's never clear exactly how, is that she's privy to information no one else is. As far as I'm aware, nobody else somehow just knows that the Visitor will leave in 15 days.

Even the Astronomers don't have an estimate. Whatever speed the Visitor was traveling at before is obviously shot - you'd have to be able to calculate its attention span somehow to know when it's going to leave. And Sybil is right on the money. She's wrong about having "heard it" somewhere, at any rate - from where, the news? The panicking residents? At literal sunrise on the first day?

Not even the Visitor itself seems to know stuff like this about what it's going to do. It doesn't even know what a photo is... I don't think it's actually responsible for the Astronomers' visions of offerings.

So who the hell is??

You can probably guess this one from context.

Sybil is suspiciously knowledgeable on all this, if unconsciously so. Even for someone who was studying this entity. She doesn't just know what it looks like or where it came from, she knows what it's going to do. She knows what to do about it.

The relationship of brain-sharing between her and the Visitor might have... become even a little bit less one-sided, with the amount of time they've spent like that? Though it doesn't seem to have been good for her coherence of thought.

Her being in her old apartment, and unaware of this, might suggest some kind of time frickery, too. Her claim to have lost her job only a month ago seems questionable on the timeline.

Sybil dreams constantly, when she manages to get some sleep in. She's positively tormented by visions of falling into a well of starlike eyes, and four robed men.

The four Astronomers all get dreams hinting at depictions of the Visitor to offer up to it, ones so evocative that they persuade some very skeptically-minded individuals to go hunting for them in real life. (God knows those dum-dums needed the help to finish the ritual in time, seeing as they all spend two straight weeks standing and pondering in their respective rooms if Sam doesn't get the offerings for them.)

Sam's "go up into the sky" dream at the beginning is probably Sybil's fault as well. It's the same sentiment she's having at the moment he wakes up, that the sky is very pretty and he should go look at it.

Sybil is in a lot of very weird pieces now, but all of them are doing their best to help.

If it ever gets added as an option, I'm immediately ripping her door down and examining this woman with a microscope. There's only so much analysis I can do from behind the wall, y'know?

---

A parting note: I'm open to doing shorter reviews on less broad aspects of the game, if you have something specific in mind. Send me an ask!

[savannahsdeath]

hi i love your writing SO MUCH and idk if i requested this already but… do you think we can get a brothers best friend ellie?? readers brother DOES NOT want them together but they end up fucking when he’s asleep/not home. or reader goes to ellies house and eats her out while shes on call with reader’s brother?? either one is fine i would just love to see you write it

i think you requested that but i made it likee the brother didnt care so heres a second one🤭ill post the first one too tho!!

BBF!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, almost getting caught

writers note: im sorry its so short whateva💔

You couldn't decide whether you like it or not.

Well, of course you did. Ellie never failed to make you feel good, her strap hitting all the right places while her hands caressed your thighs. She was rough, but not too rough. Degrading, but also praising. Basically, she was all you could ever ask for and more. What was there to hate?

But at some point, there was this little voice in your head telling you you're pathetic. Pathetic for liking this, agreeing to this and... just admiring her overall.

Because, jesus, 'she's my brother's friend. Best friend. What am I going to tell him?'

You, as the little sister, always let him insult you. Your opinion didn't matter, you gave up on trying to be important long time ago. You didn't hate him, he wasn't that bad. It was just sibling love language. He just couldn't be nice. If he knew about you and Ellie...

You were good at hiding it, though. When you first met her, you didn't believe she's really friends with your brother. Not to be mean, but you didn't thought he'll get along with someone who seems so... perfect.

'She probably has a shitty personality.'

That's how you explained their friendship. And you were terribly wrong.

After she visited your house once, she kept coming almost every day. At this point, you got used to that.

Oh, well, not exactly... There was some awkward situations, like when you exited the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around your bare skin and you saw her leaning against the handrail in the hallway. She only ruffled your hair and laughed at your embarrassment, seeing you blush and holding onto the fabric like your life depended on it. Maybe it did, actually?

It wasn't long after that before you began to wonder -'She can't be friends with my brother... can she?'- You started to notice more things - her kindness towards you, a tender touch here and there, and the way she looked at you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So what if she was his best friend? Would he really mind?

But what if he did? What if he found out?

Suddenly that little voice in your head was screaming louder than ever, and that feeling of shame and guilt crept up on you again.

But no matter how much of the guilt you felt, and despite the small voice in your head telling you you're pathetic, it felt right. You felt accepted. Accepted by someone who was perfect in every way. The thought of telling your brother filled you with dread, but it seemed so far away. You could figure out that little problem later, right? Just for now, you could feel a rush of emotions - mostly guilt, but also a rush of lust that made you want more.

More and more.

And she gave you more.

A quiet -'fuck'- escaped her lips as she saw your cunt throbbing against her strap. Her hands continued firmly holding you down as you didn't even bother to stay quiet. You felt so good... and so ashamed... You wanted it to stop but at the same time, you knew you'd beg for more if she would even simply slow down.

It was really your own fault.

This was the first time in ages you were left home alone, so you immediately invited Ellie over. First time you won't have to bury your face in the pillows. First time she won't have to shush you. First time you could actually do everything.

You were fighting your own thoughts, not knowing which one are the bad ones. You had no idea if you're doing the right thing. And you most definitely weren't but you were too fucked up to realize that.

Ellie chuckled, hearing your not-muffled this time sounds. "Were you always this loud? Jesus, how did we manage to keep this a secret for so long?"

The truth is, she wasn't silent herself. Fine, she wasn't a whining mess, unlike you, but still - the little 'fuck's and praises escaping her mouth weren't too quiet.

You continued squirming and whimpering about how big she is and how much it hurts, hoping it'll magically change, though you didn't really wanted it to. Or maybe you did? You weren't sure. Your mind continued the fight wether it's good or pathetic, none of the sides prevailing.

She clicked her tongue in disappointment, but her smirk told you how proud she really is. "I know, I know, so stop moving so fucking much." She said.

Her raspy, tired voice was enough to make you squirm again. You weren't used to hear it in these circumstances before, since it's obviously the first time she could speak loudly and clearly, without worrying about your brother.

"I said something, doll." Her grip on your hips hardened, almost aggressively pinning you to bed.

You heard the ring hanging near the door, meaning someone opened them. Just by footsteps you could tell it was your brother.

"Should I stop?" She asked with mock-concern and interest. You realized your answer won't change anything - maybe just the intensity of her moves, so you didn't waste your energy answering. That was a sign of your obedience and helplessness Ellie waited for. "Good girl."

She rolled you on your stomach and tangled her fingers in your hair, pressing your head into the pillow. She shoved it down with every thrust - every hit of your climax - to stop you from moaning. And of course it didn't work completely, but they faded enough to be inaudible outside the room.

She was intentionally going faster and faster. She loved playing with you, feeling the thrill of it, even though you didn't find it so amusing. You digged your nails into the tattoo on her forearm, hoping to slow her down.

"Ya know what will happen if he hears?" She didn't seem to care that your fingers were literally drawing blood from her body. "You'll handle it. Unless you want him to find out?" She whispered.

You immediately shook your head, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut.

Then, your moment of focus broke as you heard knocking, on the door to your room this time.

"I'm back!" Your brother announced.

You asked him to tell you whenever he goes out or cames back, mostly so you knew if Ellie's free, since he only goes out with her. Today was the first time he went outside on his own and the poor guy had no idea she found a reason to visit your house anyway, just like he had no idea she did so even when he was home, in his room, right above yours.

The lack of response surprised him, so he knocked once more before shouting confused -'You there?'

Ellie looked down at you, daring you to answer, mouthing silent 'go on' in the most taunting voice she could.

"Yes! That's good!" Your voice was shaky and you knew he will notice.

He wasn't really caring, just curious, so he had to know everything. His first sentence sounded cute, like he really cared, but you figured out he's making fun of you as soon as you heard the other questions. "Are you crying? What, you weren't invited to some lame party? Or a boy you know for a week broke up with you?"

And what were you supposed to say? -'No, your best friend is fucking me for... probably more than an hour now, and her dick is probably bigger than yours, so I can't control my tears'

"Yeah, something lik- Oh, fuck off!" You screamed back, succeeding to pretend you're really hurt because of one of the pathetic things he accused you for.

He laughed. "Mhm- Whatever!"

The footsteps climbed up stairs and got silent. Ellie bit her bottom lip, holding back a chuckle.

"Does he really think of you so low?" Her hips slowed down again, but became more precise. "You did good, don't worry. It'll be over soon."

[wystericwoes]

“Pretty boy”

Inumaki Toge x reader

Fluff

Warnings: slight cursing

"You just don't understand Maki!"

You dramatically entered your room, putting your belongings on the floor and tossing yourself on the bed as she rested her weapon against the wall, crossing her arms and raising a suspicious brow at you.

You stared up at your dismal ceiling. Letting out a long sigh.

"He's just so pretty."

She observed you curiously as you thrashed around your bed.

"Maybe if you finally talked to him rather than hoping he'll magically become a mind reader-"

You tossed a pillow at her which she easily caught.

"I don't want him to become a mind reader, I just want him to like me and tell me!"

"But without him knowing you like him first? Yeah, because expecting him to make the first move is always the best thing to do.”

she adjusted her glasses and tossed the pillow back to you which you roughly caught and placed back.

You leaned against the wall and pulled your legs up to yourself, resting your chin on your knees.

"You don't get it, if I confess and he doesn't like me, I lose him."

"You're not going to 'lose him' from a confession. It takes more than that to scare him away sadly. We're all stuck together after all."

"Exactly!" You sat upright.

Maki rolled her eyes as you rambled.

"He'll get sick of me, having to see my face in class every day, every mission, all the time."

"You're so dramatic."

You pulled your phone, zooming in on a picture you snuck of him during training. He was looking off, his long eyelashes and smooth locks gracing his face like a goddamn angel.

"Its not fair!"

You set your phone aside so you could slam your face into your pillows and let out a muffled scream.

"Why can someone be so damn pretty? It shouldn’t be allowed!”

You huffed as you recalled his smooth skin and sharp features. Soft hair and gentle smiles.

You put your hands on your face and rolled over to your side facing the wall on your bed.

“You’re obsessed with him.. get a grip.”

Maki rolled her eyes placing a sassy hand on her hip with an annoyed expression.

“You wouldn’t get it. You’ve never had boy problems.”

Her jaw ticked.

“Id hardly call it boy problems if it’s just you sitting in bed thinking about him.”

You threw a pillow again, which she threw back again.

You caught the pillow and pulled it into yourself, hugging it tightly.

“You don’t gotta say it like that!”

You sat upright and whined.

“I just wanna hold his face and kiss it!”

You roughly imitated the motions of what you were saying and made a dramatic kissy face.

“And he kept smiling at me all day, with those big stupid pretty eyes! It’s like he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah you don’t sound creepy at allll.”

She said sarcastically.

“It’s not creepy! It’s honest. It’s not like it’s my fault he’s got those stupid pretty lashes and that stupid silky hair and that stupid smooth skin!!”

“If you’re just gonna talk about Inumaki then I’m leaving.”

She turned around and began making paces out the door before you yelled at her to come back.

“Okay sorry!”

“Thank you.”

She made her way through your room and sat in your chair legs crossed facing the bed. You two sat in silence as she began pulling out her books and setting them on your desk to begin your nightly ritual of studying next to eachother. But she abruptly stopped her movements when you let out a long and hearty sigh, making her let a sigh of her own.

“Do you just want me to talk to him?”

“No! Thats 100 times worse.”

“Then get it over with yourself so he can at least reject you and you can move on already.”

“It’s different with him!”

“You’re absolutely delusional. We’re not in elementary school anymore, we communicate our issues like adults.”

You hated to admit that she was right. At this rate with your feelings, you would either drive yourself mad not knowing If he felt the same or if he didn’t. But Is it really better to be rejected than to never know at all? You silently weighed your options.

Maki opened a pencil case and pulled out a ballpoint pen, clicking the end as she started to write. The rhythmic sounds of it began to lull you into a daydream as you fantasized about him again.

Closing your eyes and succumbing to your own fantasies maki took it upon herself to take action. Because as much as she valued you as a friend, if she had to what about your fanatical little crush one more time- she’d lose it.

A few minutes had passed as you remained unmoving.

“Y/n?”

She whispered.

Asleep.

She chuckled to herself as she carefully grabbed your phone Off the bed typed in your passcode, opening up recent messages.

>Toge Inumaki 🩵

>Nobara Kugisaki

>Gojo-Sensei

She cringed to herself as she clicked on Inumakis name and the heart.

Y/n: Hey Inumaki, sorry to bother you. Are you free to hang out soon?

Maki set down the phone content with her text. Not expecting the phone to ding seconds later.

Inumaki: Hang out?

Y/n: Yeah, is that okay?”

Inumaki: ofc it’s okay lol I just don’t know you wanted to hang out with me

Y/n: well ofc! I really like being with you.

She watched as the three dots popped up, anticipating his response.

Inumaki: As long as you’re sure you wanna. Just us?

Maki cringed as her fingers hit the keypad and typed the response.

Y/n: Yeah. I wanna be alone with you :) If you’re okay with that.

Maki looked up from the screen to check that you were still asleep, confident you were since you were even drooling a little- she went back to work.

Inumaki: sounds good, what about the movies tonight?

Tonight?? Maki bit her nail as she looked back from the phone to you back to the phone.

Y/n: sounds great! Text me the deets and I’ll be there.

She got up and tapped your shoulder until you stirred awake.

“Hey! Wake up.”

You pushed her hand away as your eyes slowly rose. Maki shoved your phone in your face.

“I got you a date.”

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part eight)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, ekko x reader college au

content: powder's back and so are your feelings about her leaving. you seek out ekko to help you calm your nerves.

notes: probably the usual warnings, mental health, a reference to self-harm if you squint (powder's character), angst, and drama idk.

y'all might not like reader much after this but its needed i swear, nuanced and non-perfect readers for the win

series master list

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

You pivoted on your feet, not at all equipped to handle a conversation right now—least of all with a ghost. That’s who Powder turned into; she was an apparition of the friend you knew. It seemed like forever ago—another life when she disappeared.

The familiar sound of your name didn’t stop your movement, “Wait!” 

You continued to walk, not entirely sure of where you were headed. Away from this general area was a great start. 

Powder came up next to you and matched your step with a slight skip. Her enthusiastic tone mirrored the energetic way she followed you. “Someone’s in a bad mood.” 

You continued to walk, letting your eyes fall closed for a brief moment. “God, can you be serious for once in your life?”  

“What’s the fun in that?” She contorted her body, purposely blocking your eyeline. 

“Powder,” you waved a hand out beside you and urged her to move. “Get out of my way.” 

She huffed beside you, still letting the sarcasm fill her tone. “I’ll be out of your hair, just need to see Ekko.” 

You froze. “You’re not serious.” 

“As a heart attack.” 

Standing in the middle of a busy street normally would’ve broke you, embarrassment paralyzing you. It was different, though, when Powder had already done so much damage. 

“You're un-fucking-real. You don’t even understand what you did.” 

“Tell me.” 

It was no mistake that Powder had her own problems. Like a good friend you stood by her, carried her through the tribulations her life constantly threw at her. First it was her and Vi’s uncle—he seemingly disappeared. The group of you theorized that it was Vander’s fault, that some sort of falling out pushed him away. The thought that Powder blamed herself didn’t escape you—that she could’ve decided above all she was just too much and nobody wanted to deal with her. So when Vander died, their only other connection to their mother, Powder broke. 

In her own way Vi was coping as well. When her sister was spiraling she wasn’t allowed to; she was forced to remain the sane one. Nobody knew when exactly Powder decided to go, or the ultimate reason why, but she did. Powder left and it was the worst thing to happen to any of you. You, Ekko, and Vi were never the same. 

“You ruined him—ruined me.” You blinked at her, a stoned face looking back at you. “I’m your friend, too.” You whispered to yourself, “I thought I was.” 

“Come on, you know we’re friends-“ 

“Would a friend leave the way you did? Without a damn word?” You shook your head at her. “Powder…I thought you were gone, for good.” 

“I didn’t mean-“ 

“What you meant to do and did do are different things. When Ekko couldn’t bring himself to leave his room for weeks. When Vi blamed me-“ Your throat tightened, “When Vi blamed me—said I was a horrible friend—I only ever needed my friend. My friend who didn’t care to just talk to me. Least of all leave me some sign of her.” 

“Look, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you folded your arms on yourself at the sudden breeze. “Maybe she was right—I didn’t do enough. I should’ve tried harder to be a better friend.” You looked at her, “So I’m gonna get it right with Ekko.” 

There was a look in her eye you previously became familiar with. The slight muscle contraction of her face, a swooped piece of hair, and a twitch of her brow…she knew you were serious. 

You continued, “Just go. Go and don’t come back.” 

The sound of your footsteps halted at a red light, leaving only your side profile for Powder to see. She could only stare, guilt filling her. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Staying still at that hurt, the earnest tone in her voice. There were times—in the latest parts of the night—where you begged for a moment like this. Secretly you wondered if there was a way for her to magically appear in your life, to mend the shattered pieces she left between the both of you. Ekko deserved as much if not more. Yet now, with Powder beside you…you could only pray for the light to turn green. 

When it flashed you crossed the street with an urgency you’d never felt. On one shoulder you were pestered to turn around, to apologize for pushing her away; she probably needs you right now. On the other, though, was an altogether more compelling argument. She deserves this. She didn’t even care enough to ask you to come.

You would’ve. Given the chance you’d leave with Powder—there wasn’t much left for you here. 

In the end you were most hurt by how she carved out time for Ekko—left him a stopwatch. For Ekko, it was the opportunity to hold something tangible, to have a physical manifestation of something that made Powder still feel palpable. She didn’t care to give you that. It hurt. 

To your luck it was the weekend and some time off was overdue. In the short break you tried not to let your mind wander—to Powder or Jayce. It was admittedly hard, though. Whether you wanted to acknowledge it or not there were certain songs that would come on or movie scenes that would flash in front of you and that pain would feel real again. There was almost always a feeling of inadequacy about you, that you couldn’t be loved platonically or otherwise. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent this time alone, stuck in your own mind that constantly ripped everything about you apart. You didn’t want to cry this weekend, but you did. A lot. 

By the start of the next week you got an automated email, one explaining that your sessions this week were canceled.

Fucking great.

You could reschedule with someone else if necessary, but the fine print explained how limited the spots would be considering everyone would now be doing double duty. 

Letting the motions carry you, you moved around your place without much thought. Showering and getting ready felt machine-like, just getting you closer to where you wanted to be the most. Your feet moved on their own, down the street and between crosswalks until you were in front of a door, his door. 

You knocked and waited a few seconds. Just as you raised your hand to tap again, a gust of air was pulled from you, the door swinging open. 

“Hi.” 

Ekko’s face looked back at you, an unreadable expression there. “Hey.” You looked down expectantly, waiting for him to let you in. He could tell, always could. He stepped back and left you some space, “Come on.” His motion paired with that smile you loved was enough to calm you—a relief filling you that you hadn’t felt for days. 

He watched you take off your shoes and round the corner to his room. Ekko mentally counted to himself, waiting ten seconds for you to come back in your slippers and something to shield you from the cold. He smirked at how right he was, down to you finding a throw blanket to wrap yourself in. 

“How’s Jayce?”

You froze, not expecting to hear his name today, especially from Ekko, “Hm?” 

“Tutoring?” 

“Dunno know, haven’t seem him.” 

“Really?” 

You shrugged, “Got a message saying there’s no sessions this week. So I guess I’m all yours.” 

He nodded, watching you slide into the couch with a familiarity. “Is that right?” 

“Yup,” you rubbed your hands with an exaggeration. “Just classes and then I’m completely free.” 

Ekko popped down next to you, leaning back on the cushions. “Good, you deserve the rest.” 

You were the one to nod now, appreciative of his encouragement and understanding. “Thank you.” 

He reached for your shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly, “‘Course. You’ve been doing a lot—through a lot.” 

Ekko was right. Today, last week, this month, this year…you never got a chance to breathe. 

“You okay?” 

“Not really.” You spoke without thinking, a small gasp catching in your throat before turning away slightly. 

He’d caught your head in his hand, moving a bit closer. He didn’t pry but instead let you just breathe. He watched the way your eyes closed, searching for a temperance you were so clearly lacking. 

“It’s just—a lot.” You opened your eyes again, “But I’m grateful to have you...no matter what.” 

He blinked at that, the lightness that returned after weeks. He could blame Jayce—the amount of time you spent together. The larger part of him blamed himself and his inaction. Even when he noticed things, like the very obvious way you reacted after kissing Jayce at the bar, he did nothing about it. 

You didn’t know how he felt. Not really. 

Ekko was never this close to you. Sure, you hugged and watched movies together. It was never this, though. Him letting his fingers settle on your cheek was an entirely new feeling—one he wouldn’t let pass fleetingly. 

You were grateful. No matter what, you were.

“I’ll always be here,” he whispered and leaned in a bit. 

You didn’t think, tired of doing so. Instead you let him move closer, praying that this was the feeling you were missing. You hoped, truly, that kissing Ekko would fill that part of yourself that was empty. 

It was soft, the way your lips touched. Without thinking you moved closer, allowing the pressure he was applying to actually push into you. Despite this, you could tell Ekko was still restrained, not wanting to scare you but wanting this so much. Your lips moved with his, falling into sync in only a way the two of you could. He knew you the most, he was your friend. 

Your breath caught at that—remembering that this was, in fact, your friend. 

The tingle between you had a sense of finality, not just that it was always just on the brink of happening, but that it was the end of your friendship as it currently was. You couldn’t let that be true, to let this settle and change everything. If that was the case why had you pushed Powder away? This wasn’t being a better fried, this was the worst it could be. 

You pulled away and spoke immediately. “Powder was here.” 

“What?” 

“She was here. I told her to leave.” 

He scoffed. “I don’t understand-“

“Neither do I, okay? I have no idea what I’m doing and this,” you motioned between the two of you, “This can’t happen.” 

His face stiffened, watching how quickly this turned around. 

You continued, “I’m sorry.” 

He avoided eye contact and slumped into the couch. Your sight lingered there for a few minutes before pushing yourself off of the couch and back into your shoes. 

You stopped on your way out, “I’ll call you, okay? I will.” 

He sat there, back toward the door and motionless. He didn’t speak and let you leave without another word. 

This was all spiraling out of control, and you could only find it in yourself to blame one person. You flipped open your phone, dialing and getting the voicemail. This didn’t deter you, no. It actually made you more angry. 

“Hey, Jayce. We need to talk.” You paused, “Actually…I tried to and I have no idea what’s wrong with you. Granted, I have no idea what’s wrong with me either but… it all comes back to you. Everything's always about you.” You started walking away from Ekko’s place, continuing to speak into the crackling line, “I’m confused. We have a moment, fine. Then you just disappear for a week—the week before my midterm. How inconsiderate are you? How immature do you have to be to not just accept what happened, move on, and do your damn job.” You let out a long huff, stopping at a stop sign, “Whatever. Just—leave me the hell alone, okay?” 

You wished he would. Your immediate thought was to hope as hard as you could that he would leave you alone—forever.

When you thought harder, though, it was no longer true. In some ways you craved the attention, even thought the angry message would do the trick.

Again, you had no idea what you were doing anymore.

Powder wasn't to blame and neither were Ekko and Jayce.

Somehow you became the problem, and that was hardest to face.

part nine

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @angelicmisty @1800latenitecreep @venus-in-roses @myxticmoon @rando-no-5

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter one

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

AO3LINK NEXT

"You're in denial, you could just say you didn't want me anymore. But you prefer to pretend that..." You throw his favorite book out the window like it means nothing. 'Cause now it doesn't mean.

"You can't blame me, our romance should have ended a long time ago. But you and I..." Yoongi seems almost too serious saying this. Do you mean nothing to him?

"You and me what?" You respond from the balcony of your apartment. Luckily your neighbors aren't too curious to know why you're yelling at your ex-lover.

"You know I can't shout that here, some fans might be here." Poor little thing, at that moment you wonder where the brave man is who asked you to embark on this relationship even though you knew your worlds would never be the same.

"I thought the whole point of paying a lot of money to live in an apartment far from the big city and known for its discretion would be being able to yell at you at two in the morning." You don't care if he thinks he's going to leave you without anything more or less, and that you're going to come out of this situation smiling, he should have found someone else to have sex with.

"If you would let me come up, we could talk like adults." He speaks subtly with an impressive poker face. If he stops being a musician, perhaps he could try a career as an actor or a gambler.

"Like adults? I'll be waiting for the other adult to arrive." You say throwing some clothes that are in your apartment that belong to him.

"Like you're being mature about all this. Damn!" One of his belongings ends up breaking near his feet. In fright he lets out several swear words, you luckily end up laughing.

"You break up with me over the phone and I have to be mature. I gave up part of my freedom to be yours. And look what I get in return." Anger took over you initially but now all you can do is try to keep from crying.

"Y/N. Let me in, so we can talk. I can see you almost crying from here." You smile lightly as you feel tears fall down your cheek. What a humiliation.

"If you cared about me you would have had the decency to say that you wanted to finish it the last time you were here." His cowardice can only be explained by his fear of having to do this in person.

"I couldn't. I didn't..." That was exactly what was left of the two of you. An awkward silence and resentment.

"Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to curse your name or tell someone you broke my heart?" You say that sobbing. What a tragedy it is that has made you sentimental now.

"Just because we don't work anymore doesn't mean I don't love you." You look at him and for a moment you feel more sorry for him than for yourself.

"If this is how you love someone. I'm sorry to inform you that you don't know love." Ironically it makes you smile. Maybe this is all his fault, not yours.

"Love..." It's very painful to see the man you've been involved with for the last year, call you that and not be able to respond.

"I'll send the rest of your things to the company. Don't worry, I won't expose you any more than I already have. Now get out of here, you and your fake love." Using one of his songs as the grand finale was a majestic act. Crying yourself to sleep, unfortunately, is not so majestic.

Two Months Later...

"You were the only person I thought would understand my situation. Try not to judge me but I need an opinion." You say looking Namjoon in the eyes. You got really close to him during your secret relationship with Yoongi.

"Is it too big a secret?" He asks entering his new home. A home where you swore you would start over.

"You tell me..." You say, opening your coat and revealing your stomach.

"Did you call me here because you gained weight after the breakup or do you have worms?" Namjoon asks and you smile nervously. Until you shake your head denying.

"Let's say the weight gain is due to something prior to the breakup..." You try not to say the word. Maybe the situation will go away if you don't name it.

"You are pregnant?" He named his current situation. Now it means it's really happening.

"Surprise!" You say trying to liven up the situation but you know you're fucked. Namjoon seems really surprised. As soon as he assimilates the information, he hugs you. You knew you could lean on the friendship you two have.