#I know he doesn’t have an actual spot right now

[danikamariewrites]

In Enemy Hands

Mob!Azriel x reader

Warnings: kidnapping, guns, violence, a lil murder but nothing graphic, not proof read

Azriel knew. The heavy feeling in his gut twisting and turning as he paced the driveway.

The mini convoy pulling up had him stopping, his eyes widening at the sight of the damaged Range Rover Cassian was driving. His heart clenched at the destruction.

It was rare Azriel let his men see him in this worried state. He was doing a good job of keeping his mask in place, but Azriel felt like he needed to scream. Like he was going to drop to his knees and let this feral thing inside him out.

Rhys silently stepped up next to his brother, clasping his hand on Azriel’s shoulder. As soon as the cars stopped Azriel pulled away from Rhys to inspect your car. Cassian had already given Az a full report of the damage and how you were taken. He just needed to see it with his own eyes.

Azriel frantically searched the car for any clue that you could’ve left. “Az there’s nothing in here,” Cassian says gently.

“No,” Azriel roars, whipping around to give Cassian a deadly glare. “There — she has to,” Az fumbles over his words.

For the first time since he was a child a tear slid down his cheek. For the first time since he was a child Azriel felt fear.

Anger quickly mixed itself in. Azriel quickly sees red. His breaths were bordering on pants as he cast a pained look at your car.

“I am going to kill every single one of them.”

You push your chest against the ropes keeping you to the rolling chair. All that does is slowly spin you in a circle. You pull at the duct tape binding your wrists to the arms of the chair.

Even though your whole body ached from the collision you fought. And you’d keep fighting.

The door squeaks open as Beron stands over you. He's supposed to be a myth these days. Living out his exile in a quiet town, cut off from his family.

When Eris overthrew his father to become head of the family he showed Beron mercy. Something he never showed any of his sons. The fact that Beron was in the city, and with a small army backing him, meant trouble.

“Eris might actually kill you this time,” I break his brooding silence. “Do you not want to live, or are you just itching for round two with the head of the Vanserra fam—” your words melted into a piercing scream as Beron gave your knee a hard kick.

Pain blinds you. Thanks to the crash you’re pretty sure your knee is somewhere between dislocated and broken. Focusing on breathing through it you regain your composure.

“The bastard that took my spot is weak. Your boyfriend even weaker. I know they owe each other. And the pretender has no one, you were next on the list.”

You groan, absorbing the information. Nesta was good at laying low then. And you’re not a rat.

“Finacé.”

Beron gives me a disgusted scowl. “Fiancé now. Do you not get the newsletter out in the suburbs?” You shoot him a shit eating grin. Beron’s growing rage tells you to quit it with the quips.

“The title doesn’t change anything. My plan is already in motion.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Aahh the facade does crack.” He grins. Your glare turns murderous. “If you hurt Azriel you won’t have to be afraid of the family’s. Just me.” Beron lets out a cackle as he leaves you to your pain.

It’s already been a full 24 hours and Azriel hasn’t slept. He angrily paced the house as Eris ran point, commanding men to watch Beron’s old hideouts. To comb the city and leave no stone unturned.

Rhys and Cassian have been taking turns to try and ease their brother’s anxiety. Mostly it was to make sure Azriel didn’t run off to take Beron on alone.

Right when Azriel was about to implode Eris ran into the office to report that you’ve been found.

“I have a man on the inside with Beron. We need to move now to catch them off guard, I’ll explain on the way.” Azriel didn’t wait for Eris to finish before he was out the front door.

When the warehouse comes into sight Azriel has to restrain himself from jumping out of the car. “Remember,” Eris’s stern voice sounds down the comms. “Wait for the signal.” Azriel rolls his eyes, knowing that command was targeted at him.

They stay out for almost an hour before Eris’s informant gives the signal.

Entering the building Azriel almost threw up his heart at the sight.

Once Atlas finally gained your trust you let him cut you loose and help stabilize your knee. Thanks to the pain you had to put your weight on him.

Shuffling out of the room you were hidden away in being out in the open made your heart race. Some guards patrolled the upstairs, a few weaved between the stacked pallets.

Atlas dragged you behind a stack of boxes to send a text to Eris. “Stay here.” Atlas whispers. You make yourself as small as possible. Pressing you back against the boxes as you watch Atlas cut through the room to silently cut down those foolish enough to side with Beron.

A second person took down the men upstairs. Silently laying them down as their bodies went limp in his arms.

When Atlas returns you immediately push yourself up, leaning your weight on him again.

Halfway through the warehouse angry footsteps sound from behind. Followed by the click of a gun. Atlas whipped around, shoving you behind him.

“Beron, you don’t want to do this.” He said, raising his gun. The laugh that escaped Beron sent painful chills through your body.

“Enough games. Where’s the boy? Or is he not brave enough to face me?”

“Eris will be here soon enough.”

The two stare each other down. Neither wanted to shoot first. Atlas pushes you, silently asking you to hide and leave him.

Turning as quickly as your knee would let you hobble down the center of the room, aiming to dive behind another stack of boxes.

Two shots sound behind you. One followed by the thud of Atlas’s body. The other right next to your foot. You let yourself fall, putting your weight on your uninjured side.

Beron grabbed you by the back of your neck, hauling you to your feet.

“Any second.” He panted into your ear. Beron’s arm wrapped around your neck, his gun pressing into your temple.

The door slammed open to reveal Azriel, Eris, and the rest of their men. You let out a small sigh of relief at all the familiar faces.

Your eyes meet Azriel’s rage filled ones. “Beron,” he roars. “Let her go!”

“When I have you both where I want you?” You claw at Beron’s arm attempting to loosen his grip.

Azriel was struggling with what to do. He wants to shoot Beron but he was petrified of hitting you by accident. If he moved, Beron would likely kill you.

Eris opens his mouth to threaten his father when a gun goes off. Beron howls and Eris rushes forward to pin him. Everything plays out in slow motion for Azriel. Once he realizes you fall he runs to you.

Azriel scoops you to his chest, rocking you and running his fingers through your tangled hair. “Y/n, oh my sweet y/n. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Azriel keeps repeating the apology. You cling to him, breathing in his comforting scent.

He pulls away from you to look you over. Tears prick at Azriel’s eyes when he sees the small gash on your forehead and hurt knee. “Oh my angel.”

“I’m ok, Az.” He shakes his head pulling you back to his chest. Picking you up bridal style Azriel briefly talks to Eris. The next time you look up Azriel is buckling you in the car, never taking his arm from around you.

Az doesn’t let you walk in the house, carrying you tight to his chest again. Bringing you to the spare room you see the family doctor is already set up. An hour later she determines your knee has a bone bruise and the cut on your forehead just requires neosporin and a bandaid.

Before the doc leaves Azriel brings you to the bedroom, helping you change and tucking you in with a heating pad.

You stare at him holding his hand. “Sit, love.” He does as you say, the tears he’s been holding back finally falling from eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers again. “I’m so sorry I failed to keep you safe.” You shake your head at him.

“You brought me home. I’m with you.” Az nods. “I brought you home.” He says more to himself than you.

He stays by your side for days. You can’t even get out of bed without Azriel supporting you or carrying you where you want to go. You let him for his sanity.

Weeks later, you get up without Azriel beside you for the first time. Your knee still hurts a little but you keep moving through the pain.

As if he could sense what you’re doing, Azriel pokes his head in. You smirk at him. “Hi Azzy.” He blushes slightly at the nickname.

“What are you doing up so early?” You roll your eyes playfully. “Can’t I get up and have breakfast with my fiancé?”

“Of course,” he whispers, cupping your cheek. Azriel has been trying not to hover since you’ve fully healed. You can see the hesitation in his eyes as his other hand twitches to wrap around you.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you lean into Az. “Will you carry me downstairs?” You press soft kisses to his soft skin to butter him up. Azriel relaxes, scooping you to his chest.

Maybe letting Azriel hover for a little while longer won’t be such a bad thing.

[mikibwrites]

The Price is Right

inspired by @theweewooshow 's post about a kissing booth :) Happy Valentines Day everyone!

bucktommy | 1.4k | G | ao3

This is ridiculous. He’s officially lost his marbles. 

Tommy’s been in this line for at least fifteen minutes, and every third minute of that has been spent telling himself he should leave. The other 2 minutes of each spiraling cycle have been spent eavesdropping his fellow hopefuls in line, listening to their tittering about how hot the firefighter working this shift of the booth is, surreptitiously cataloguing every person that he can see in front of and behind him and evaluating them on what–little, sadly–he knows about Evan’s preferences and whether or not their dreams of bagging a date with him will come true. Which then, in turn, sends him back into spiraling and berating himself for being among them, given his history with said firefighter. 

He needs to leave. 

There are roughly ten people in front of him, and Evan definitely hasn’t spotted him yet. He could totally duck out and no one would be the wiser. He contemplates pulling his phone out of his pocket with an air of importance, putting the completely silent device to his ear and pretending something dire has just happened that requires his immediate attention. No one would question him for getting out of line, no one would suspect that he’d lost his nerve. They’d think, wow, he must be important to be needed somewhere so urgently. 

Tommy’s definitely, officially for real this time, lost his marbles. 

Also, there are now only seven people left in front of him. 

As he watches each person get their sweet little peck on the cheek, he tries to tell himself this is for a good cause. The money goes to charity. There’s nothing weird about giving to charity. Nothing at all. There’s also nothing stopping him from just dropping the money in the basket on a table near the door that’s designated for just plain donations. He doesn’t need to get anything out of it if that’s all he’s hoping to do. 

He’s definitely hoping to get something out of it. He can at least admit that to himself, if nothing else. 

Five people left. 

“Oh my god, he’s so hot,” Tommy hears from behind him. “Look at those arms. Hold me down, daddy.” He almost chokes, the girl’s voice clearly pitched for just her friend next to her to hear, but he’s apparently blessed with supersonic hearing. The friend chimes in as well. “I wonder if he’s actually a good kisser or if he’s one of those dudes who relies on his rizz alone and then can’t deliver when it counts.”

Tommy has no idea what ‘rizz’ is, but he has to physically stop himself from turning around and describing for this girl in detail just how good of a kisser Evan is, how well he can deliver. He’s sure that wouldn’t go over well. 

Two people left. Evan is being so gracious and attentive to each of his patrons that he still hasn’t noticed Tommy. He could still make a run for it. 

He’s not going to. 

There’s roughly enough time for one more cycle of spiraling before he makes it in front of Evan, but Tommy chooses to spend it going over what the hell he’s going to say. Surely, Evan may protest giving his ex a kiss, even if it’s for charity, given the way they ended. It’d be well within his right to do so. So Tommy needs to have some justifications ready just in case Evan gets the wrong idea here. 

And what is the idea? Tommy failed to decide before he attempted this ridiculous stunt. Honestly, he’s been so, so god damned touch starved since he walked out Evan’s door that he thinks he’d do anything for just a brush of fingertips from Evan at this point. And that’s it, really…he only wants it from Evan. His coworkers have told him multiple times that he needs to just go out and get his ex out of his system–Donato offered to wingperson for him, even–but the very idea turns his stomach. 

But did he actually think that throwing some money at charity at a kissing booth of all things was going to get them anywhere near a reconciliation? Jesus, he should have just texted. Not that he hasn’t tried that, many many many times, and all of them ended up deleted because regardless of what he likes to tell himself he does not have the courage to put himself out there without the reassurance–or despair–of seeing Evan’s actual expression when he says what he wants to say. 

Which is…what? Exactly? He still hasn’t deci–

“Tommy?”

Shit. He’s missed the last person in front of him getting their dutiful peck on the cheek, and now he’s run out of time. 

Evan’s voice as he says his name is full of awe, trepidation, and…dare he say it…hope? His expression is even more devastating: like he’s seeing the sunrise just beginning after a century spent underground. His narrowed eyes are earnest and a little guarded, but they are trained wholly on Tommy.

Shit….what was he going to say?

“Uh, yeah. Hi. I, um…well I. Uh.” Tommy runs his fingers over his hair roughly, feeling unbearably stupid and exposed. He should have run when he had the chance. “Look, Evan, I–”

Evan’s breath hitches audibly at the sound of his name. They’re staring at each other. 

“Shit or get off the pot, dude, we’re all paying customers!” Some guy further back in line is shouting. 

“Um. Did you want a kiss?” Evan says, his face turning pinker by the second. And this. This Tommy can definitely answer.

“Yes,” he says, with maybe a little too much conviction behind the word for their current circumstances. Evan seems to clock it immediately, his eyes flicking down to Tommy’s mouth before coming back up to his eyes, his expression morphing to hopeful disbelief. “But, I mean, you don’t have to, here, I know you probably weren’t expecting–”

Tommy’s words are cut off by Evan’s mouth sealing onto his. 

God, god, he’s missed these lips. Each slide is like a revelation, and the thought is not lost on him that they’re in the middle of what is essentially a work function, they are both in uniform for christ's sake, having a whole existential crisis shared along with their breath and space and saliva. Because yes, Evan has now bullied his insanely talented tongue right behind Tommy’s teeth and is exploring like he’s going to be asked to draw a map later. 

Evan kisses him long, hard, and thorough, endless seconds ticking by and Tommy definitely doesn’t listen to any of the complaining going on in the line behind him. Evan does, though, and he very reluctantly pulls his lips away from Tommy’s and blinks in the most adorably flustered way and Tommy’s so, so gone on this man. How did he ever walk away from this?

“Can we talk?” Evan asks breathlessly.

“Please. But maybe later. Your adoring public awaits,” he adds, gesturing with his thumb to the line behind him, still nearly thirty people strong. He can’t blame them, but he’s also feeling a tad possessive so he leans in one more time to press his lips to the apple of Evan’s cheek, causing the blush to intensify when he pulls away. 

Tommy begins to turn to walk away, his smile already making his cheeks sore when Evan clears his throat. He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t pay, you know.” He’s smirking, the little shit. 

Before Tommy can make a move, someone in line shouts, “Damn! How much does it cost to get that?”

“That is not for sale,” Evan states with finality, but he’s still looking at Tommy, lips pursing, trying to hold back a full blown grin. There are a few groans from the line. 

Tommy reaches into his wallet, pulls out a $100, and slaps it on the table in front of Evan. “What time does your shift end?”

“In thirty minutes.”

“Meet me at the cafe two blocks down. Bring those lips. We’ll talk.” Tommy congratulates himself on being smooth as he smirks right back at the look on Evan’s face. 

“Mmm, okay. I’ll bring these lips. But I hope you remember they’re good for more than just talking,” Evan adds as Tommy turns to walk away. 

He retracts his self-congratulations as he trips over his own feet. 

[lady-lostmind]

GIVE A SHIT

Written for @steddiebingo Kissing Booth Prompt: Dress Up

Rating: T | WC: 631

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

“This is stupid, Buckley. I look like an idiot. This is never going to work.” Eddie’s face scrunches in disgust as he stares in the mirror, tugging at the secondhand suit jacket Robin shoved onto his shoulders. 

Robin rolls her eyes, “You always look like an idiot.” She pulls Eddie to face her and wraps a tie around his neck. “You guys have been dancing around each other for too long. It’s getting ridiculous.”

Eddie scoffs. “And you think this–” He gestures to himself in his best, non-ripped black jeans, black dress shirt, and the stupid fucking jacket. “Is the solution?”

Robin glares at him while she ties the tie. “No. I think you getting your head out of your ass and actually making a move is the solution.” 

“And this is the move? Dressing like some yuppie in a suit!?” 

Robin flicks him on the forehead, grinning meanly when he yelps and rubs the sore spot. “I think actually making an effort and showing Steve you actually give a shit, is the move.” 

Eddie’s face drops. “Is that what he thinks? That I don’t give a shit?” 

Robin sighs and she smoothes out his tie. “Steve doesn’t think anyone gives a shit about him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Even I have to constantly remind him or he gets all in his head about it and pulls away.” 

Eddie shakes his head, looking down at his ridiculous outfit with a sigh. “Do I buy him flowers?”

He glances back up and sees Robin smiling widely. “I think that’s a great idea.” 

Eddie shows up at Steve’s house with a bouquet of roses, and a baggie of weed, feeling ridiculous as he knocks on the door. He wants to be with Steve. And Robin is right. They’ve been dancing around this for close to a year. But he doesn’t know how to do this. He’s not– He’s never really had a relationship. He’s never really cared that much. He’s never–

Steve opens the door, eyes going wide when he sees Eddie. “Eds, what–”

“I give a shit.” Great. Really solid start, Eddie.

Steve’s brow furrows. “Okay–”

Eddie sighs, pushing past Steve and pushing the flowers to his chest. “These are for you.”

Steve’s eyes go all sparkly as he looks down at the flowers in his hand, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Eddie starts pacing. “I’m not good at this, okay? I know I’ve probably been fucking this up, majorly, and I’m sorry about that. And I know you deserve better than a trailer trash freak but–”

Steve’s face goes soft. “Eds–”

Eddie shakes his head. “I know, I know. But please, just hear me out, okay? Robin said I have a shot. And I figure she knows. And I know this–” He gestures to himself and the flowers. “Is all a little cheesy and over the top but I do give a shit. About you. I give a lot of shits about you. All the shits, honestly and–”

Steve takes a step forward. “Eds–”

Eddie shakes his head holding his hands out in front of him. “I know I’m probably not what you imagined for your life. I know this is–” He sighs. “I just want you to be happy. And I think that maybe– Maybe I can make you happy. If you give me a chance.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest with a sigh and Eddie’s heart sinks. “Are you done?”

Eddie stops pacing in front of him, his body slumping in defeat. He knew this was a bad idea. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Steve smiles, wide and cocky as he strides forward. “Good.” He cups Eddie’s jaw and leans in close. “Because I’m going to kiss you now.”

[salty-autistic-writer]

You voted that an animal should cheer Tommy up. So here's some cat-Dad Tommy!

Tommy stares at the empty spot on the shelf of the shopping aisle. The spot where his favourite cake was supposed to be. 

He stares, his body frozen as his foggy mind tries to catch up with the new information, his hand already stretched out, hovering in the air.

They don’t have it. They always have it. But not today. 

Tommy is not surprised. He doesn’t have the energy to feel that kind of emotion. He just feels numb. Of course, they don’t have his cake. Tommy pulls his hand back. Forces himself to grab a pack of brownies instead. They land in his bag and join the sad collection already inside. Tissues. Frozen dinner. Beer. And stronger stuff for later. In case he can’t fall asleep again.

He doesn’t really care about what he puts in his body right now. Tommy didn’t even want to do the groceries. He doesn’t feel like eating. Doesn’t feel like doing anything at all. His body is a stone, pulling him down. Every step forward seems to add more weight. A heavy grey cloud is raining on his thoughts, making them swim in a thick foggy soup of nothing.

The cake might have cheered him up a little. At least for a while. But life won’t even grant him that kind of short sweet relief. Tommy guesses he deserves this. It’s Karma, right?

Anxiously, he drags himself through the shopping aisle to the cashout. He hopes no one he knows will see him like this. Because then he would have to explain that he doesn’t actually have a bad persistent case of the flu. He would have to tell them that instead, he managed to mess up the best thing that has ever happened to him and now carries around a broken heart that he doesn’t know how to fix. Fortunately, he makes it out without meeting anyone he knows.

Outside, the sun is too bright, burning his eyes. He blinks and lowers his head, not paying attention to his surroundings, and forces himself to take another slow step forward. He just wants to get back to his quiet dim house, to his couch, to his blanket, to some pointless TV blabbering and to something that will dull his senses.

But then, he hears the meow.

It’s loud. Shrill even. But … muffled.

Tommy stops with a frown, looking around. He’s alone. Only occasional cars pass him by. He hears another meow. And now manages to locate where it’s coming from.

A dumpster. Really?!

Tommy frowns and opens the lid. He looks inside, his eyes widening when he sees a bundle of brown fur and two greenish eyes blinking up at him. Another loud meow seems to be telling him: Finally! I was screaming for hours and no one ever bothered enough to take a look!

Sitting on a heap of disgusting garbage, the cat starts to scratch frantically at the walls of the container. But for some reason, the animal won’t climb or jump outside.

“Okay,” Tommy says, putting his bag down and pushing the sleeves of his hoodie up. “Alright. I’m going to get you out of there. Wait a moment …”

The stench that hits him when he bends over the dumpster is overwhelming. Tommy breathes through his mouth and reaches inside, stretching his arms until he can grab the cat that doesn’t try to bite or scratch him fortunately, and pulls it out.

As soon as he can take a closer look at the squirming animal, he sees why it didn’t try to jump. The hind legs got caught in some kind of plastic wrapping that binds them together. He carefully removes it, throwing it back into the garbage, checking if the cat is injured. That doesn’t seem to be the case. Good.

Tommy wonders how the cat got into the container in the first place. And realises he doesn’t really want to know the answer to that. He holds the brownish fur bundle in front of his face and she meets his eyes unafraid, blinking slowly. “You look like a brownie,” Tommy says, glancing at his shopping bag. “What am I supposed to do with you Brownie, huh?”

Of course, there’s no reply. Tommy shakes his head and puts the cat down. It sits and looks up at him, her tail swishing from side to side. Tommy picks up his bag. “I have to go home now,” he mutters. “You better clean up. The mice will smell you from miles away.”

He sighs and walks on. It only takes him a few seconds to notice that the cat is following him. “I don’t have any food for you,” Tommy tells her. “I don’t even have proper food for me. You met the wrong kind of person today, Brownie. Sorry.”

I mess up everything good in my life anyway. 

The cat isn’t impressed. And she continues following him until Tommy reaches his house.

* Brownie loves tuna.

She makes slurping noises while eating, inhaling the whole bowl in a few minutes, then looks up at Tommy, licking her nose.

“What? You want more?” Tommy asks, smiling for the first time in days. “Well, I only have one more can left, guess I will have to go to the grocery store again.”

He feeds Brownie more tuna, then bathes her because she’s reeking. The cat makes less fuss than he would have thought when her fur is being soaped up, washed and dried. Maybe she’s relieved to get rid of the garbage stench.

Tommy watches from the couch, as Brownie slowly inspects every corner of his house, smelling his plants - nibbling at each one for a second - and marking his furniture by rubbing against it, her tail raised in the air. She likes it here, Tommy realises. Well. What do they say? A cat chooses her home?

He doesn’t have any cat stuff at home though. No toilet. No food. No toys. He will have to get all of that from a shop. Tommy fidgets with a tissue and makes a mental list in his mind. The grey fog in there lifts as he focuses on the present and the fact that he now has a cat to take care of. He still can't believe this is his life. He stumbled over a cat and now everything changed. It's making him anxious in a whole other way.

Brownie looks at him, meowing quietly as if she can sense his emotional distress.

Evan would love her, Tommy thinks, still smiling.

God. Evan.

Sadness and regret hit him like a tsunami wave. Sudden. Cold. Painful. Drowning him in memories that wipe the smile off his face. Evan looked so hurt. Tommy never wanted to hurt him. Not him. He hunches over when the waves of aching pain reach his stomach. He wraps his arms around himself, blinking frantically as tears fill his eyes.

God. I miss him so much. I’m sorry. If I could go back in time and fix this - I would … 

Suddenly, Tommy feels something warm nudging his leg. He looks down, seeing Brownie rubbing her head against him. He can hear her starting to purr.

Tommy smiles through the tears, scooping Brownie up and gently placing her against his chest, where she stays, purring and starting to move her paws against him in rhythmic movements, baking biscuits. She’s warm, soft and still smells like soap. It’s nice. “I thought I needed cake. Didn’t think what I actually needed was a cat,” Tommy says quietly, sob-chuckling. “Look at you. You just arrived here and you already act like the world’s best comfort pet. Come on. Let me wipe away those tears and then I’m going to buy you some things you will need.”

* Brownie sniffs Evan’s shoes once, looks up at him for a scrutinizing moment, then walks away, showing him her butt.

Evan’s brows furrow. “She doesn’t like me.”

Tommy chuckles softly, putting his hand on Evan’s back. “Give her some time. She listened to me sobbing about missing you for too many nights.”

“Maybe I should move from cakes for humans to baking biscuits for cats,” Evan says with a small smile.

“But you have to put tuna into them,” Tommy says. “Brownie loves tuna.”

They look at each other, smiling, both knowing: Not everything is resolved. There’s still a lot of talking to do. But they showed each other that their relationship is worth fighting for.

(AO3 Link)

[emmyrosee]

i think play fighting with shidou would be a glorious experience. tbh. it could fix me. i don’t even have any other thoughts abt it this time, I just know it’d be amazing 🤧

anon <3

NOOOOO IT WOULD LITERALLY HEAL MY SOUL I LOVE HIM AND IM ACTUALLY FROTHING AT THE CHOMPERS OVER THIS-

bc here’s the thing. HERES THE THING-

Shidou doesnt play fight. He straight up wrestles. Like there are sometimes where he’s gentle and just manhandles you around and pins you down and pokes and prods at your sides, just to hear you giggle and squirm, but like… sometimes, he needs to put you in a full Nelson and power bomb you, tickling you until you’re crying and quite literally tapping out.

“Quit poking me with your dogs,” he snickers, swatting at your foot that once again prods his side. “‘Feral behavior.”

“Coming from you? That’s rich,” you tease.

He flashes you an offended look, but there’s challenge in those pink eyes, a spark of excitement that entraps you, and you know that right now, you’re too playful for your own good, this can only backfire, but damn, if it doesn’t course through your body at the speed of light, filling you swiftly to pester him into snapping.

“Excuse me?” He growls, grinning behind gritted teeth.

“You heard me,” you sass once again. “I’ve seen the things you say to Sae, I know the things you yell on the field, and don’t even get me started on the way you do your hair in the morning.”

“You tryin’ to fight?” He asks, rising to his feet. “You trying to start something?”

“What’re you gonna do if I am?” You hum, rising to your feet too.

“Im gonna give you a five second head start,” he says, and you squeak and make a break for it. “Then im gonna make you regret talking all that shit!”

In your apartment, there’s only four good hiding spots; you’re both extremely aware of them, this not being a new dance for either of you.

You decide on the one in the closet, that’s always the one that gets you both riled up the most, not being able to actually see each other and being protected by an actual barrier than keeps you two apart.

“Where, oh where, could my bratty baby be?” He sings, and judging by he leisurely pace, you know he already knows which hiding spot you’re in. Your hands clasp over your mouth to hide your laughter. “Ohhhh, my bratty baby, you think you can hide from me? I can smell the fear coming from you.”

From the closet, you can’t see Ryusei, but you hear him as if he’s right next to you, his steps clear and calculated and whistling loud enough to send shivers through you. You hear him getting closer, feel the way the floor shakes under his massive frame, and you watch as a shadow comes from under the door and pauses. Your heartbeat picks up, fast, and your breathing stops as if that’ll help the inevitable.

He flings the door open after about seven seconds of anticipation. “Found you,” he sings. You shriek and try your best to scramble out of the closet for safety, only for him to laugh and grab your ankle out from under you, “oh, I don’t think so.”

Your fingers try to grip onto the floor, as if that’ll help you, but Ryusei is strong, much stronger than you, and he wastes no time in hauling you up and over his shoulder before slamming your back onto the squishy mattress, already snickering at your expense while you whine in giggles and flail your legs to try and ward him off.

He merely catches your foot and traps the other leg under his thigh, blunt nails scraping down the sole to make you nearly kick him in the nose. “Careful, it’ll come off,” he teases. You merely fight him off harder.

He tosses your foot to the side and makes a break for your torso, flopping down onto his side to pin your arm under his weight, but careful to distribute the weight so there’s no pain and you can only continue to giggle helplessly. With one of your arms rendered useless, you try and shove at him with your free arm, which gets gobbled in his grip before he positively pulls it taut, free hand now able to squeeze and poke your sensitive muscles to his delight. Your nerves are electric from the pinning to the tickles, and you’re hyper aware of him being so close to you, cheeks split into a massive smirk as he torments you.

“You talk a lot of shit for someone so ticklish,” he points out. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you like pushing my buttons like this, just to make me snap and tickle the snot out of you. You like riling me up for this, hmm?”

Despite his words, he stops, hand smoothing up your side to calm the phantom touches still shooting through your muscles. His legs untangle from yours and he raises his body enough for you to regain control of your arms, which causes you to curl into his side, still giggling softly. “So mean,” you mewl in between your titters.

“You made fun of my hair, what did you expect?” He scoffs, wrapping his arms around you to cuddle you. You bury your nose against him, relishing in the smell of his shirt and being more than content in his arms. “Besides, I know you like it.”

“You dont know shit,” you grumble, but your smirk tells him everything he needs to know.

Play fighting and you? Inseparable.

Good thing he’s there to always indulge you.

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

hey so thinking about stalker!quinn so bare that in mind when you click that handy dandy read more. i rambled hard core but whatever

he sees you in a book store in downtown Vancouver. your hairs just below your shoulders, you have on what looks like a black skirt and a pair of tights with black converse to match and he can’t read whatever’s on your hoodie.

all he can do is stare as your flip book after book, flushing as you read a random page before grabbing the book and holding it close.

he’s following you around the store, just grabbing random books to make himself not look like a weirdo. he needs more. needs to know who you are.

he overhears you ramble your phone number for rewards, replaying it in his head while you finish your transaction. as soon as he steps foot into his apartment, he’s googling.

he’s finding you one way or another. he learns you just graduated from Michigan State (and he cringes a little), and you just moved here for a job at the hospital. you’re 23, almost 24. you’re a pisces he’s learned, you really like music that screams in his year and taylor swift. it doesn’t make sense to him but that’s okay. he can live with it.

he finds out you live in his building. he sees you walking into the mail room and opening up box 117, that’s the floor below his. he’s learned you leave every Monday through friday at 5:30am and get home at 6:30pm. he hasn’t talked to you yet, just left flowers and dinners at your door.

he was getting out of his car when he saw you park yours. perfect, he’s thinking. he makes himself look busy while he waits for you to get to the elevator. making sure no one else is around, he’s walking to your car and sticking an air tag under your car. he’s gotta make sure you’re okay.

that following friday, he sees your at work still and against all better judgment goes down to the front desk and talks his way into getting a spare key to your apartment. he apologizes profusely to the desk, “i’m sorry my girlfriend didn’t leave hers under the mat and i’m supposed to surprise her tonight.” and who’s gonna say no to the beloved teams captain? no one.

that’s how he ended up in your apartment, placing cameras in hidden spots. he needs to learn your daily routine. what makes you tick. what you sound like when you moan.

once he’s found his way to your bedroom, he notices a pile of laundry on the floor. messy, messy girl. his eyes set on a lacy pair of underwear closer to your bed and he’s grabbing them before his brain even has time to stop him.

he made it home just in time. as soon as his doors closing, he gets a notification yours opened.

he’s pulling the cameras to see your pulling your top off and walking towards your room. his hands moving down to his sweats, trying to push them down enough when he hears your voice say his name.

“Quinn. yeah that’s the upstairs guys. no i haven’t talked to him much at all. yes he’s cute. very cute actually. but i don’t stand a chance. his face is fucking on the side of an arena dude, all i need is 10 minutes.” followed by some laughter.

baby, you’re getting more than 10 minutes.

he’s banging on your door before he knows it. as soon as your open the door, robe covering your top half, he’s pushing his way in.

“close the door.” he can see your face flushed and the anxiety all but falling from your eyes.

“you wanted 10 minutes? you can have 10 minutes but as soon as those 10 minutes are up? you’re mine. mine to use, to watch, to brand, to have, to do whatever i want with. isn’t that right? been practically begging me for months now. so why don’t you get on your knees and prove your worth?”

[marigold-hills]

Coming here to humbly request my beloved wolfstar at prompt 41?

of course! I was so happy to see you request. It’s turned out a little longer than I expected, hope you enjoy!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Remus says because the truth - that he’s altogether too drunk for this - would make it stop.

They’re playing truth or dare, Marauders edition. To their left, little shot glasses spiked with Veritaserum James has been brewing in a hidden alcove behind his bed. To their right glasses full of their chosen alcohol. Remus has a cheap muggle whiskey he’d learnt to enjoy over the summer, nowhere as smooth as what they sometimes get in the Three Broomsticks but he’s fond of how it burns when he swallows.

He prefers not to examine this.

“Come on, Moonshine, truth of dare,” Sirius cajols from his spot, sprawled out as he is across the rug at Remus’ feet. Hair a tangled mess on the floor, silly little grin stretching his lips and eyes just that side of glassy from the posh gin he has swirling like golden freckles in his glass. He’s a mess. He’s beautiful.

“Truth,” Remus sighs, faux-put out. His last dare involved standing and hopping and he doesn’t think he’s got the coordination left for any more.

Peter’s asleep in the corner of the floor, head wedged underneath his four-poster. Now and then, he snores and tries to roll over. Each time the bed leg gets in his way and he bounces away, disgruntled sleepy little sounds not unlike Wormtail’s.

James had gone to get supplies from the kitchen. Ostensibly. By the way he eyed the door as Evan’s laugh rose from downstairs, Remus doesn’t think he’s really coming back.

He rather likes having Sirius’ attention all to himself, is the thing. A bad thing. Another thing he prefers not to examine.

Sirius nudges the shot of potion and Remus, still pretending to be so very against the idea, drinks.

It’s James’ very own take on Veritaserum. Not enough to make them babble away all their secrets, not enough to force them to answer against their will. Just that whatever they do say, should they choose to, can be absolutely verified as truth.

Just one way of many that James, an absolute lovesick fool he is, is actually remarkably clever.

Remus drinks the agreed upon dose (three sips) and closes his eyes against the sudden rush of floaty giddiness. It goes as fast as it came.

Sirius sits up from his sprawl, and he looks so much like Padfoot for a moment Remus has to fight himself from stroking his head. It’s an ok thing to do to a dog. Not to a man.

“You’ve been reading poetry,” Sirius says with that self satisfied little lilt he gets in his voice when he’s a few steps ahead of everyone else.

“That’s not a question,” Remus tells him.

“You’ve been reading love poetry,” and there he is, leaning forward so his chin rests on Remus’ bed, those eyes of his looking up through those lashes and even without the potion Remus would tell him anything he asked.

“You didn’t need to give me Veritaserum to discuss literature, Padfoot.”

The smile stretches. “You’re not reading your dreary sad poetry, or your creepy gothic poetry, or your too-much-description-of-the-mountains poetry. Not anymore. You’re reading about love.”

Remus freezes. Because of course Sirius would notice. He notices everything, always, without fail. “And your question?”

Sirius doesn’t look like he’s asking, his eyes have something in them like he already knows. “Who is it?”

A redundancy of words. Remus sighs. Drinks his drink - for courage, not for forfeit. “You already know, Sirius,” he says, trying to keep his voice still. “Don’t be cruel.”

Sirius pushes off the floor and climbs up onto the bed and into Remus’ lap, and that? He didn’t expect that. His hands are full of Sirius, keeping him steady so he doesn’t go toppling off.

They really are drunk. The both of them, bad as one another.

“Tell me anyway,” Sirius asks. It’s nothing like begging, maybe more like a command, but really it sounds like Sirius knows he would never be denied. There is no point in asking when the answer is already given. (With every breath and every shared cup of tea, every glance across a room.)

“You know it’s you, Sirius,” Remus tells him through the Veritaserum’s pushing, without really knowing he does.

Sirius pounces. They topple backward onto the bed, Remus spread out on the mattress and Sirius on him, across him, above him. A grin so wide his teeth show, pretty and white and perfect. He smells like the overly expensive gin he’s been drinking.

“If you kiss me because you’re drunk, I don’t think I’ll forgive you,” Remus tells him.

“How about I kiss you because I love you?”

And that? “That you should absolutely do,” Remus falters, “do you?”

Sirius grabs the nearest wand (it’s Remus’) and has his own shot glass float up to where he’s clearly unwilling to get off Remus even for a moment. He drinks the three sips. “I do,” he says, once he’s given the potion enough time to work.

It’s Remus, that kisses him first.  (List of prompts: here!)

[parker-artio]

So I’ve said it a couple times, but I come from a huge family, which is mostly foster family. But I’m from a small town and live in a five bedroom house (one for my mom, one for my brothers, one for my younger sisters, one for my older sister since she’s 18 and can’t share a room w/ foster kids, then mine.)

But rooms aren’t anyone’s hiding spots- Yk what I mean, when you need to destress and get away from everyone but your room is too obvious- so, it got me thinking.

The Wayne manor is massive, all of the bat kids definitely all have that spot. The hiding spot.

So here’s what I think all of them are!

Dick: He had three. The one he lets everyone know about, the one he only lets his siblings know about, and his secret one. He trusts them to only come annoy him in the first one, because he only ever uses it when he crashes out (it’s his best past-time). This one I think would be an ‘on the nose’ place, like his bedroom closet, in the ceilings, on a random chandelier, on the roof, somewhere where they would think to look (they being Bruce and the other adults.) The second is more likely a not so obvious place, but everyone would consider thinking about it. Like, the guest room next to his room- but not just the room, like the closet, or under the bed in there, maybe the shed in the backyard. But his place- the place he tells no one about, that’s the attic. He’ll go up there and hide under and behind a fortress of boxes and pillows and blankets he’s slowly added to since he was 9. No one questions when he goes into the laundry room with a full tote of blankets and pillows or carry’s around cleaning supplies upstairs.

Cass: She hides in the pool house. No one knows. No one finds out.

Jason: When Dick told him about his hiding spot(s) he immediately scoured the library for a hidden spot, his logic was: it’s an old house, there’s gotta be a hidden room somewhere, right? And there was. So when he disappears into the library for three hours and someone goes in after him and doesn’t find him anywhere, they assume he’s escaped through the library in the window.

Tim: He grew up in an old house, he knows all of the hiding spots. Which is how he knew there was a hidden door under the left stairs that led to a panic room, which’s he’s officially transformed into a safe haven, and no one but him can get into or out of. He’s gotta pad lock with a code he can’t even remember. Good thing for patterns.

Duke: When he moved into his room (pretend Bruce is fostering him and he doesn’t live w/ his cousin okay?) He always heard a weird sound coming from his closet. At first he thought it was haunted and refused to put anything in there, but one day when it actually happened during the day and not at night he decided to inspect it, and found a small vent, just big enough for him to crawl through. He obviously went into it, he found himself in a small room where all of the vents connected, just above the batcave- which is where the noise came from. He added a few battery powered fairy string lights, and a small beanbag with a blanket and chair.

Damian: He insists he doesn’t need one despite everyone saying it would be beneficial. But if anyone claims when he goes missing for hours when the barn lights are on, he denies it all. But as he gets older, he doesn’t keep hiding the fact that the barns his hidden space- and a room where he hides the animals from Bruce when he first smuggles them into the house. But no one knows where that is.

BONUS:

Barbara: She used to have a hiding spot in one of the many hidden cliffs in the batcave where she has a very nice fluffy pillow and her baby blanket with a fluffy blanket to accompany it. Her backup-laptop a very strong charger, and a couple books for her college classes. But she can’t get up there, so it’s kinda a hidden relic stuck in time. Now she hides in an unused room back by the back door with enough space for her to move around in her wheelchair, but no one knows where it is.

Steph: She went into the batcave once and saw a door that was labeled ‘Batman only’ so obviously she went inside. The room was empty beside a small door and the shelves of backup generators. So obviously she went into the small door and found herself in a small cozy dark room. She’s managed to decorate it like her room, and even put a lock that can only be opened by her phone. Bruce definitely noticed the room was tampered with when he went to go get a generator, but he didn’t ask about it. He knows everyone has a hiding spot.

Harper: She doesn’t have a place, but she will go into the upstairs bathroom next to the upstairs living room and lock the door and sit in the tub. It’s very therapeutic.

Luke: He’s not at the manor or batcave enough to have a hiding spot, but at his mom and dads he’s got a small section of the basement where he terraformed into a small ‘man cave’ but in actuality he just sits in there on the gaming chair he took from his sister and listens to music or relaxes.

That’s everyone I can think of right now, I might add other characters in a pt. 2? Like maybe Maps, Tiffany, Kate, ect.

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 13

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Max Fewtrell x norris!reader

Daniel Ricardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and Max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

warnings: mention of loosing virginity, no they’re not gonna fuck on the boat, ITS LANDOS. Smut will be marked. Reader is definitely a woman 😔☝️ For the first time, I wrote protected sex 😧

warnings in the smut part: choking, rough sex, virginity loss, use of good girl, fingering, it could be cringe for some idk

series masterlist | previous | next

-

“Max..” Your voice was quiet and your eyes met his “We don’t have to, we’ll go up there and take a nap or anything” You nod, he smiles gently and presses a kiss to your nose “Tell me when I’m crossing lines okay? I’m not gonna loose you because i’m selfish or anything” His tone was quiet and gentle, matching yours.

“I will. I just..” You look down. Max senses that you’re struggling, grabs the forgotten ice cream, puts it back in the freezer and takes you back upstairs.

He pulls you on your previous spot, making you lay your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry” “For what?” “We didn’t..” And we don’t have to. I literally could not care less. If you don’t want it, I don’t want it either.”

You smile at him as his thumb caressed your cheek. You sigh and press your lips together, making Max tilt his head at you “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s fine” He shakes his head “No. Talk to me” You shake your head “It’s okay” “No it’s not. I can only help you when you tell me what’s wrong” “Nothings really wrong..” “But?”

You sigh and fidget with a bracelet Lando had gifted you years ago “It hasn’t changed..” Max looked confused “Changed? What?” “Me, uhm..” “Well, It doesn’t really matter if you do or not. I’m still right here” You chuckle and blush at his words.

“It’s no that” His hand rests over yours “Then what?” “I asked something of you, something you didn’t want.. well..” Max face twists from confusion to realisation “You’re..you never..?” You shake your head “I didn’t know we’d end up here but I never really found anyone I trusted enough”

He stares at you “And where is the problem?” “Maybe you didn’t want-“ “You listen to me now.” He sits up “I wanted you. I want you and I will want you until I take my last breath. That’s how much you consume me. I need you in every way that you allow me to have you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t be open about this, but I promise you, It’s okay. And we don’t have to. Okay? That’s not why we’re here”

He holds your face in his hands “Okay?” You nod and gently meet his lips.

“We’ve been through enough to not hide something from the other. And we’ll probably go through hell a few times. Especially when the internet catches on, but that all won’t matter cause we’ve got each other.”

You smile and nod “Okay” Max smiles too “Okay. And now we should slowly go back to land. I’m starving” You chuckle “Ay ay, captain” You smirk “Dork” He ruffles through you hair “Hey!”

He quickly kissed the top of your head and heads to turn the boat around. You watch him leading you both back to the land. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

-

yn added to their story

caption: I wish I knew what he tried there, but I have no clue @/ maxfewtrell

reply’s:

lando did he get stuck?

yn no he actually didn’t

lando ohhh, miracle

yn almost tho

alexandrasaintmleux when is your busy schedule free for me 😔

yn always, you just gotta say when you’re free 😔 I think we also need to talk about something that happened yesterday 👀

alexandrasaintmleux ohh 👀

user you and max are hanging out a lot

user you’re with max again??

-

yn and alexandrasaintmleux added to their story

(yn cap: 🦋🤍 | alex cap: 💕🌸)

“But you guys didn’t sleep with each other?” “No I couldn’t.. I mean we talked about it afterwards. And he told me that it’s okay but it doesn’t feel okay”

She smiles at you “You’re finally where you wanted to be all along. It is okay. No matter what the media, what lando, and definitely daniel says. They don’t matter. Did he give you any reason not to trust him?”

“No?” “Then talk to him again. And if you aren’t ready, then that’s okay too.” “Everyone-“ “Shut up.” You blink at her “Stop comparing yourself, please. If I had the chance again, I would’ve rather thought about who I had my first time with. But I wanted to fit in, to loose my virginity. That’s stupid tho. Do it with someone you love, and not do it when everyone tells you to lose it.”

You nod “Alright, alright. Before you start writing poems here.” You chuckle and Alex laughs “I’m sure i’ll write some about the insufferable love you two have for each other” “Me and Max? Talk about yourself with the wannabe fashionista”

“That’s mean” She says but laughs “His pants are the worst! How would you let him go out like that?” You cringe “He likes it I guess. I’ll help him here and there but..he’s expressing himself..?”

“Don’t make me feel bad “ You chuckle but pick up your phone that lit up.

“Who is it?” “Max” She smirks at you “Shut up” “I didn’t say anything” You roll your eyes “What does he want?” “Asking if I was up for dinner tonight. But keegan and morgan would be joining if I was okay with it”

“But you wanted to talk to him” “I’m not gonna talk to him about him talking my virginity in public, Alex!” You whisper yell. She shrugs and you roll your eyes again.

“Maybe you won’t even have to talk” She smirks again “Alex” You whine “Do you trust him?” “Yes” “Do you want it to be him?” “Yes” She smiles as she sips her coffee.

“We’ll see what happens” “Just don’t panic. You’ll be okay.” you nod “Thank you alex” “You know I won’t judge” She winks.

-

maxfewtrell

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, angryginge13 and 625.836 others

maxfewtrell recently 🌺👀

user WHO IS THAT

lando I still beat you.

maxfewtrell 🙄🙄

angryginge13 not surprised. He was ogling his girlfriend the entire time

maxfewtrell I was not

lando you were.

user let us innnn

user he looks so happy omg

user this is so cute

user handplacement 🥹

-

You kicked off your heels in the hallway and made your way to the living room. You flopped down onto the couch and you hear a chuckle from behind you “Told you to wear other shoes.” “But others wouldn’t have fit to my outfit” You pout.

“Then you should’ve changed” “So you don’t like my outfit?” “Oh trust me, I love it” You blush a bit as he sits next to you, hand on your knee.

“How was the meet up with Alexandra? More gossip?” “Maybe” Max smiled and closed his eyes. His head rested on the back of the couch as you watched him.

“Everything okay?” He mumbled a few moments later and opened one eye to look at you “yeah, i’m okay” You smile warmly. He smiles, closes his eye and gently strokes your leg.

Either he hasn’t noticed, or he’s doing it on purpose but with each stoke, his hand itched higher and higher. When he got to your thigh, your breath hitched.

You saw max’s lips twitch upwards slightly. His thumb makes a soothing motion over your inner thigh, which isn’t soothing at all (Ykyk that feeling).

“Fewtrell.” He hums “What are you doing?” “I’m not doing anything” He turns his head and looks at you with an innocent smile “I know exactly what you’re doing.” “Then why are you asking?”

* Smut until the next mark *

“Don’t play with me, Fewtrell” “No? But I thought that’s exactly what you wanted” You glare at him “Maybe I don’t want it anymore” He chuckled “No? Then why is my hand trapped between your thighs?” He smirks. Fuck, you hadn’t even noticed that your thighs were pressed together.

You look up at him with a faint blush on your cheeks. His free hand cups your cheek “Tell me to stop and I will” You shake your head “Don’t” “No? You sure” You nod and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes”

That’s all it took for max to let his restraint go. His lips crash into yours “Tell me if I make you uncomfortable or-“ “Just shut up” You breath out. He chuckled, pulled his hand from between your thighs and climbed over you.

His hands were next to your head, yours finding their place on his sides “Max” You say quietly as his lips gently glide over your jaw “Hm?” You raise your hands to his cheeks and pull him in for another kiss.

One hand slowly wanders down to the first button on his shirt, which he catches in his hand. You look at him puzzled “I’m not fucking you on your couch” “Why not?” “Not happening”

He gets up and throws you over his shoulder as if you weighted nothing “Max! What the fuck!” “You’ll live.” You chuckle as he makes his way to your bedroom.

He gently sets you down on the bed and doesn’t restrain your hands from opening his shirt this time. He watched every move of your hands and looks right into your eyes as you push the dress shirt off him.

He lets it fall to the floor as he leans over you again, his lips almost touching yours “Still okay?” “yes” You lean up the last bit to kiss him, making him smile into the kiss.

One of his hands trace your back “Wanna keep it on or can I..” Max eyes you for a moment, keeping alert for any possible discomfort. You breath for a moment “It’s okay” You say quietly.

He smiles and gently opens your dress. It falls of your shoulders as he pulls you up by your hands and strips you off the dress completely.

His eyes roam your body, but instead of being embarrassed, it’s sends a warm sensation through your body.

“Got your wish after all, huh?” He chuckled “Shut up and hurry up” “Patience baby. Everything at its time” You roll your eyes but yelp as Max pushes you back on the bed.

“Up” He says and you move more upwards on the bed as he towers over you. His lips find your jaw once again while one of his hands roams your form.

He trails down your body, keeping eye contact. “Max, please. Don’t tease” “I’m not teasing, i’m enjoying” His hands slide up your sides and stop at your bra “Can I take it off?” You nod and Max opens your bra and throws it off the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He murmured against your skin. His hands gently knead your tits and smirks as you let out a gasp.

He comes up to your ear, gently biting under it, earning a muffled moan “Has anyone ever touched you, baby?” You shake your head, breathless “No? Oh fuck” He chuckled and let his head fall forward for a moment.

Max composed himself again as his hands travel down to the last piece of clothing that’s covering you. He looks at you and you nod. He raised an eyebrow “Yes, max for fucks sake. Stop asking and do something, please”

He smirked and pulled down your underwear, leaving you bare in front of him. You tug at his pants “No, not yet” He gently guides your hand above your head “This is about you, not me” You whine “You can have me later, let me make my stupid decision up, hmm?”

He gently glides two fingers through your folds. You bite your lip to keep your moans quiet, but Max wasn’t having any of it.

“Let me hear you, otherwise I’ll stop” He pulls his hand away and you buckle your hips upwards, which was quickly shut down by max shoving and holding your hips down.

His fingers find your clit and circle it slowly. One of your hands grabs max’s arm. He smiles and speeds up slowly. Your breathing was already unsteady but it wasn’t enough “Max, please” “Use your words. What do you want?”

You blush and clench your jaw “I’m not a mind reader, you gotta tell me” “Your fingers” “oh yeah?” You nod eagerly “Well, who am I to deny you that” He slowly inserts one of his fingers and watches your face for any discomfort.

When he doesn’t find any, he curves his finger upwards. You moan and thighten your grip on his arm “More, please Max” He inserts another finger into you and picks up the pace.

He keeps his thumb on your clit, kissing your thighs in the process. You moan out his name, nothing else than him filling your mind.

“What a good girl” Max raised an eyebrow as you clenched around his fingers “Oh? You like when I call you that?” You blush and hide your face in your hands.

“Don’t hide yourself, come on Baby” He peels your hands away ���Eyes on me. You wanna cum on my fingers?” You nod “Yeah? You think you can handle my cock too?” You nod eagerly “Yes, I can”

Max smirks, picking up the speed again and you whine “Aw, are you sensitive?” You push your head backwards into the pillow.

The squelch of the movement inside of you is the only noise filling the room for a moment, making you fist the blanket and max’s arm.

“So good- Max! ‘m close” “Yeah? I’ve got you, cum all over my fingers. Need it” He says and bites the inside your thigh.

The pain pushes you over the edge, your nails digging into Max’s arm.

He slowed down his pace, letting you ride out your high. He pulls out and wipes his fingers on his pants, his free hand gently stroking your abdomen.

You look at him, catching your breath, hair sticking to your forehead. Max chuckled “If you look this fucked out on my fingers, I wonder what my cock does to to you”

You bite your lip and reach out to him, fingers hooking into his belt. Max raised his eyebrows at you but smirks “Go ahead” He nods and you unbuckle his belt. He moves backwards on the bed to stand back up and take his pants off.

“You’re still clothed” You say, sitting on your knees now, tilting your head and pointing at his boxers. Max chuckled “Impatient, are we?” He smirks but you cross your arms “Alright, alright” He chuckled, taking off his underwear too and crawling back above you, pushing you back on your back.

You hold the eye contact but flicker to his lips. His hands reached for the nightstand and takes something off it. “You wanna do it?” You look at the condom. Where the hell did that thing come from and when did he even place it there?

But your thoughts were interrupted when max kissed your jaw “Hm?” “I wanna do it” You whisper “Alright then” He holds the pack up to your mouth and you gently grab it with your teeth, to not damage anything.

You both sit back up, and you rip open the package. You place it on his cock and out of the corner of your eye you can see his hands clenching, holding back from touching you. You smirks and roll the condom down.

Max squeezed his eyes shut and mumbled a quiet ‘fuck’ You keep moving your hand up and down his cock “Sweetheart, no- oh fuck” You thighten your grip slightly, making Max gasp.

“That’s not what- oh” His breath quickens “I’m just making sure it’s on properly” You smile innocently, and before you can say anything else, his hand grips your throat “You’re a minx. I’d be careful if I was you” “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do?”

He smirks slowly and clenched his jaw “Nothing today. This is about you, but don’t think I’ll forget you being a little brat.”

You raise your eyebrows “Me? I would never” “You’ve never and you still..” Max cuts himself off “I forgot, you read” You smile “Not so innocent, are you baby?” He smiles and pulls you in by your throat.

His lips press against yours and he pulls away again, making you try and chase him, which doesn’t work with his hand around your throat.

He gently pushes you back down and presses gentle kisses around your neck, keeping your hips still with his hands.

“Max, please” He raised an eyebrow “Stop teasing. You don’t need to be a mind reader to know what I want. Please, I thought you wanted to make it up to me? “ You whine, making him press his lips together, nodding “I know, I know sweetheart. You’ll get what you want”

He lines himself up with you but looks up first “Tell me to go slower or stop, okay? You got the control on the pace” You nod, hand wrapping around his bicep.

He slowly pushes in, making you gasp. Your nails dig into his arm, making him hiss. Your scrunch your eyebrows together “Wait-fuck. A moment, please” Max stops immediately and looks up “You okay?” You nod “Just need a moment”

He nods and waits for your cue to move again. Your mouth opens in a soundless moan, which makes Max wrap his hand around your throat once again “Come on, don’t go shy on me now, Pretty girl. Let me hear you” You try to stop the restrain on your moans and Max stills inside you, once he’s in by the hilt.

“You tell me when to move, okay?” You nod, pulling him down for a kiss, your fingers tangling into his hair.

“Okay, you can move” He slowly pulls out and trusts back in. Your eyes widen as he continues the movement “Holy- Max” He chuckles and leans his head next to your ear, making you listen to his breathing.

“How are you feeling?” He says, quickly pecking your cheek “Good” “Yeah? Feels good?” You nod, eyes occasionally rolling into the back of your head.

“Told you we should’ve done this earlier- fuck” You grad the arm that is wrapped around your throat “Yeah? Bet you would’ve loved to be fucked everywhere, hm? Having to keep quiet if I actually fucked you in my drivers room, your own room or mine? Or on the italy vacation?”

“I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about” You get out between moans “No? Running around in those dresses, my god. And bending over every time I was around you? Total accident i’m sure” He growls, thightening his hold on your throat.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head once again at his action “you’re fucking filthy, aren’t you? If you like me chocking you, what else is it I will find when I fuck you, hm?” He smirks as you blush “Always the ones you thought were innocent” He chuckled as you silenced him with a kiss.

“Please, faster” Max gladly listens, picking up his pace and reaching down to play with your clit “Max- Oh god”

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this to you. I don’t know how I kept away from you, but I won’t ever be able to ever again” Max’s breath gets heavier and his head hangs down.

“Harder” “Baby im already-“ “You’re not gonna break me” He lets out a breathless laugh “Jesus, you’re gonna be the death of me” He obliged either way and soon you could feel the pleasure creeping up on you.

Max felt your repeatedly clenching around him as his thrusts don’t falter “Are you close? Can feel you squeezing me so- oh my- fucking tight” You nod “Yeah? Wanna come on my cock? Be a good girl?” “Yeah, wanna be good- fuck”

He smirks at the effect he has on you, but his expression quickly turns into concern as tears roll down your cheeks and he starts to slow down “Hey-hey are you okay?” “Don’t stop, please max. Fuck, keep going”

It was then he realised you were crying because it just felt good “Not hurting, please I’m so close” He nods and picks up his pace again.

This time he picks up your hips a bit which earns him a loud moan “Oh- right there, max” He chuckled but continued pounding into you, as his own orgasm crept up on him.

“Yeah? Finally found it” He says more to himself than you but tries to continually hitting the spot, over and over again.

“Gonna cum, max. Don’t stop, don’t-“ “I won’t, let go baby. I got you, be a good girl” You pulled him down into a heated kiss as white hot please consumed every fibre of your body, your other hand gripping his shoulder, marking another part of him.

Your orgasm triggered his own and his hands grip your hips, probably bruising them slightly in the process.

His forehead rests on yours as you slowly come down from your high. Max slowly pulls out, which earns him a quiet hiss of you.

“Sorry” he mumbled and pulled the condom off to throw it in the trash.

* smut end * holy cow that was long 😭 Anyway.

“You want a bath or just lay here” Max whispered as he cuddled up to you “Just a moment. But a bath sounds nice too” “I’ll quickly turn on the water and be right back” You nod with closed eyes.

A few moments later you hear the water running and Max is back in the room, now in sweatpants “Why are you wearing those?” “Do you know how weird it feels to walk around naked?” He laughs and crawls back to you, pulling you onto his chest “Don’t fall asleep on me now. We still gotta clean you up”

“How can I not when you brush through my hair like that and cuddle me” You mumble “To bad, sweetheart. Still gonna have the bath” You don’t move and max laughs “Do I have to carry you?” “Mhm”

He chuckled again but picks you up “Let’s go then” You keep your eyes closed, leaning on his shoulder. “Can you open the door? My hands are quite occupied”

You smile and open the door. The warmth of the room immediately makes you feel even sleepier. He sets you down for a moment and closes the door.

“Come on, hop hop in there” “Don’t rush me” You say and hold a hand out “Yeah yeah” He picks you back up and you squeal “Max!” He slowly sets you down in the bathtub. He sits beside the tub and holds your hand, head resting on the side and looking at you.

“You’re staring.” “I know. But do you really care?” “No” You smile and look at him. His smile widens “Good.” He sits up properly to kiss you. Your hand draws shapes on his shoulder “Oh” “Hm?”

You chuckle “Did I do that?” You point to the countless scratches on his arms and shoulders “I think you did, yeah” He laughs “Even down here!” He looks at the lower part of his arm “How am I supposed to hide that?”

“Hoodie?” He looks at you deadpan “Hoodie? It’s like.. super hot outside?” “Then you’ll be smoking hot” He chuckled “You’re crazy” “Yet you’re still sitting here” Max nods “Yeah, somehow” You roll your eyes and lay back down.

comfortable silence fills the room. Max’s hand gently caressed your face as you calm down. You were right were you wanted to be, without any disturbance..right?

-

Holy shit. It’s been a while since I wrote smut, so go easy on me. Part 14 is still coming out tomorrow, no worries about that 🤭

[4lexnilsen]

“please,  don’t even mention espresso and muffins right now unless you want to make me drool all over this bar,”   alex warns with a laugh,  shaking his head in amusement because how can she possibly know that he treats himself with this exact combo after most workouts?   “i have the biggest sweet tooth.   part of why i work out so much.   otherwise,  i’d weigh three hundred pounds.”   fingers absently reaching for the glass again,  thinking this is the best drink he’s ever had and taking another sip,  savoring the sweetness of strawberries and the underlying hints of who-knows-what.   whatever it is,  it’s delicious.   “right?   bakeries smell like coffee and freshly baked bread and pastries and cinnamon while this place…   it’s something else.”   but he still nods his head in agreement.   it’s clear that this is exactly what they both need.   their usual hangout spots,  barnes and noble or the local art galleries,  wouldn’t be able to provide this kind of distraction.   “hey!   we said the same thing!   oh,  this means you’re buying the next round,”   he teases,  snapping his fingers and playfully pointing them at her.  

although upon hearing helena’s next comment,  his smile falters a little.   pale blue eyes flickering away in embarrassment,  fingers swirling the glass around,  leaving wet circles on the bar’s sticky surface.   “i’m sorry about that.   i don’t know what possessed me to make that comment.   no,  on a second thought,  i know exactly what possessed me…”   he sighs,  unsure why his tongue’s suddenly completely untied,  seemingly uncontrollable.   he finds himself confessing things that have never seen the light of day.   “i don’t know how you do it,  helena,  but you seem to be able to see right through me.   it’s actually scary how well you seem to understand me.   the things you’ve said earlier…”   about him being a broken little boy,  emotionally unavailable and hurting on the inside.   “they’re true.   but i’m not ready to confront those parts of myself yet so i wanted to hurt you to make you stop analyzing me.”   but that comment was so very out of line,  he can’t help but be embarrassed now.

“oh,  i didn’t even realize.   sorry.”   mumbling as he moves his hand away,  he attempts to rub his palms together to warm them up a bit.   “your braid’s all crooked now.   did that witch pull on it or something?”   looks like it.   falling silent when she touches his bottom lip,  shivers racing up his spine,  electric currents running through his veins.   he blushes like a schoolboy and doesn’t even flinch,  swallowing any whines and hisses that threaten to escape him.   it hurts,  but is so strangely intimate that the butterflies in his stomach take flight once more.   pale blue eyes studying first helena’s hands,  then her own lips,  and stopping once they find her own doe-like hues.   he’d drown in them in a heartbeat if it weren’t for her voice,  pulling him out of this haze.   god,  what’s wrong with him?   “thank you.”   the cut is still pulsing,  but he’s no longer bleeding and the stinging sensation as he speaks isn’t quite so intense now.   “let me do something for you in return.”   he slides off the stool and stands behind her,  fingers carefully undoing her braid,  combing through dark curls,  figuring fixing her hair is the least he can do.

“well, i’m boring like that too. i prefer cafes and bakeries over bars. why not? bakeries have coffee— espresso and muffins, bars have…” taking one look around, “cigarette stench and greasy armpits.” nose scrunches slightly as she covers her nose to the irritating STENCH that makes her sinuses feel disturbed, she’d finally happily agree she’s being stuck up. “but tonight’s the exception, i needed this as a distraction.” reassuring she’s enjoying being out of her element to forget the idea of harry. right as she’s saying she needed to be out of her element ALEX is saying he’s out of his that causes her to look up in surprise . . . as if he’s reading her mind. how can they be so alike at times then completely opposite? “i guess when you said i needed to screw harry, harry needed to screw someone else.” hating it makes her re-upset at him all over again for saying that to her. “the flavor is repulsive. only people that are that desperate for a buzz actually like it.” mumbling as she’s digging around in the first aid, seeing her bow land on the table and his hand touch her face again. “hey! your fingers are cold and— my bow!” not realizing it was about to fall out. “i’m just…” shrugging one shoulder, emotions clouding her gaze as she lightly taps the cut on his lip, keeping her eyes glued there. “good to everyone, no matter what. that’s just the way i am. the way i believe.” unfortunately. but at least she has her guard up, she won’t be letting him in just because she’s showing this act of kindness now. she can still be the bigger person, without letting him in. “if i want to be a doctor, i can’t be choosy who my patients are.” raven haired girl teases, even if there’s truth to that. “that should keep it from getting infected, help cut the healing time down.” a small smile before she turns to wipe her hands on a napkin, now shifting to opening her makeup box, grimacing at what a pennywise sister’s look she does have going on. she’ll start with a makeup wipe, getting rid of the mascara down her cheeks, cleaning that up then her smeared lipstick. cleaning it all the way so she can just restart reapplying with red lip liner then filling it in with dior’s red lipstick.

[emsdevs]

a/n: I had a nonnie ask for 25 with Joseph Woll specifically asking for fluff but I used the ask to ask them if they'd be okay with an angsty prompt so if you sent that in, this one is for you!! I can't wait to get through some more of these! 🧡

Prompt 25: “They were there. You weren’t.”

Birthday Celly 2025 Masterlist | masterlist

You never thought you’d run into Joseph Woll again, but here you are, staring at a man who left you high and dry almost ten years ago. You had moved on since then, found a nice guy, settled down, and had a couple of kids. Somehow, though, your past is looking you in the eye right now, and you wish there was some way to escape it. When you opened your front door, the last thing you expected was to be met with a skeleton you thought you’d hidden so deep in your closet it would never see the light of day, and yet, here he is, looking oddly hopeful. 

“What are you doing here, Joseph?” you whisper rather harshly, pulling the door closer to your body, even though your husband was away on business and your kids had been asleep for a couple of hours now. You see hurt flash across his eyes. You hadn’t called him Joseph since you two were kids.

“I needed to see you, to talk with you,” he takes a tentative step forward, but when he sees you flinch, he moves back to his original spot.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” your eyebrows are furrowed, and even without raising your voice, he isn’t sure he’s ever seen you this upset.

“Can I please just come inside for a minute?” he pleads. You glance behind you to be sure your kids haven’t woken up, and once you are sure they are still sound asleep, you open the door wider and step aside.

“Okay, just… make it quick, please.” He steps inside, letting you shut the door before following you to the dining room. You gesture for him to sit down at the table, following suit. The two of you sit in silence for a moment before you have enough of it, “Joseph if you have something to tell me, can you please get on with it? It’s late.”

“To be completely honest,” he takes a deep breath, “I came to ask for a second chance.”

“Jo-”

“Look I know it’s been a long time, but leaving you has always been my biggest regret. I’ve missed you every day since I left. I know it probably means nothing now that so much time has passed, but I had to come try. I couldn’t keep living my life in Toronto knowing what I left behind.”

“You’re right, Joseph. It means nothing now. If you told me this nine years ago, things would be different, but I can’t give you what you want now.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Sweetheart, please-” he gets cut off by tiny footsteps padding down the hall.

“Mommy?” Joseph swings his head in your direction, looking as shocked as you probably did when you opened the door.

“Give me a minute,” you stand, making your way to your daughter’s room before putting her back to bed. A nightmare had woken her up. Soon, you’re back in the seat across from Jo.

“You have a daughter?” his eyes are wide, and you think you can see some tears beginning to form in them.

“Two actually,” that’s when Jo notices you playing with the diamond on your ring finger. That’s funny. You had always told him you wanted an opal engagement ring, never having liked how transparent diamonds could be. 

“You’re married?” he lets his eyes shoot back up to yours, “You moved on?”

“I had to Jo. For me,” you feel slightly guilty for some reason.

“How could it be that easy for you?” he looks hurt, offended at the fact that you were able to leave him in the past.

“He was here. You weren’t,” you let a little bit of spite seep through your words, hoping it would hurt him a fraction of the amount you felt when he left.

“That’s not fair,” he starts.

“No, Joseph. What isn’t fair is you leaving me behind like I was nothing for an NHL paycheck. I moved on.”

“Did you? Because from what I can tell, this guy doesn’t know you at all.”

“Oh, and you do?”

“I do! I know you probably secretly hate that diamond on your finger because you would’ve wanted an opal. I know you’d never paint the walls this shade of beige. You always wanted colors, real colors, that make the room feel brighter. I know you wish there was a bouquet on this table right now because you love fresh flowers. I know one of those girls in there is named Margot, and if I had to guess the other is named Maeve because those were always your top two options for girl names. I know if I went to the master bathroom right now it would probably have a Jack and Jill sink because you think there’s not enough counter space for two people otherwise. Don’t tell me I don’t know you when I know this isn’t what you would’ve wanted. Where even is this guy, huh? How often is he home?” he takes a moment to catch his breath, but all of your emotions hit you at once. Before you know it, you’re crying in the arms of a man you thought you’d never see again.

When you finally calm down, you decide to be honest with Joseph, “Never,” you say it so lowly he almost doesn’t hear.

“Never what, baby?”

“He’s never here. The girls are used to it now. They barely talk to him when he is. I couldn’t even tell you the last time he kissed me Jo, or even took me out to dinner. You’re right. He doesn’t know me. He never has, and I’m miserable. The only thing keeping me going are Margot and Maeve.” Jo feels his heart soar knowing he got the names right, but he doesn’t let it cloud his judgment. 

“Let’s get you out of it then,” he says it like it’s a fact, like he knows you’ll say yes. You suppose he does know you better than anyone because you agree quicker than you’d like to admit.

“Okay,” you risk looking up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll work on starting the divorce process tomorrow. I can’t live like this. Ellis can keep doing whatever he wants without me and the girls tying him down.” 

For the first time in a long time, you felt hopeful. You were truly happy, and you had a sneaking suspicion Joseph had a lot to do with it. You could only hope he’d stick around this time.

taglist: @heartsforjh @macklin-celbrini-71 @dancerbailey3  @joeyspuckbunny  @beenucks  @wolls-angel  @lukey-pookie-hughes43  @t0xicinvasion @nadicakes143  @wollgirlie

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[dixonsdarkelf]

The Demon I Cling To: Judas & Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s your first Saturday night as a new bartender, and a certain menace of a patron catches your attention. Luckily for you, you catch his too.

A/N: I purposely left out descriptions of Reader's coworkers, so you could picture anyone you wanted. This was originally just supposed to be a drabble, but now we're here lmao. And thank you to @dixons-sunshine for giving this a good ol' proofread and assuring me it's not a steaming pile of hot garbage 🖤

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Swearing, slightly suggestive commentary, possibly OOC Judas? (idk we don't really get much of him so I tried my best okay?)

The Saturday night crowd was as rambunctious as you could have imagined. The air smelled of cheap beer, even cheaper cologne, and regret. A country rock tune filled the air, and the small group of women in the corner who had started line dancing had gathered a small crowd. You couldn’t help but smile at them, finding amusement in the ecstasy and pure joy they found in their dance.

You were a new bartender, and this was your third day at your local dive bar. You’d caught on quick, picking up regulars names and orders with ease. ‘You’re a natural,’ your manager had said during your training, watching as you threw together an order of shots at the speed of light. You loved the atmosphere, the tips were great, and you got along well with your coworkers. You were happy.

A commotion from the opposite side of the bar caught your attention. From your place behind the counter, you spotted a man throwing something at one of his friends, the object landing on the floor a few feet away. Whether that “thing” was food or something else, you couldn’t tell. However, they were both laughing, so you figured whatever it was had to be friendly fire. You couldn’t say you were surprised, as shenanigans like that were typical of a crowd like this. This may have been your first Saturday, but it wasn’t your first rodeo.

What did surprise you, though, was how he kept your attention.

You found yourself staring, your eyes locked on him as he sat there, laughing with a group of men who were presumably his friends. His chestnut hair caught the light, the mesmerizing golden reflect almost sparkling. One might’ve compared it to a halo, but while you knew nothing about this handsome stranger, calling it a ‘halo’ didn’t quite feel right.

Your coworker lightly bumped you with their shoulder to get your attention. “Hey, come here. I have a more unique request from a regular that I wanna show you.”

You nodded, only half-present in your acknowledgment, and followed your coworker, your eyes still lingering over the man in the crisp leather jacket. Reading the back of it, you smiled softly and stifled a chuckle. ‘Judas’, you read aloud in your head, ‘must be part of a biker gang or something.’

Once your coworker was finished, you nodded in the man’s direction, still ever curious about the patron whose ruse had distracted you. “Who’s that guy?”

Your coworker glanced back, scanning the crowd before landing on the supposed biker. “That’s Judas,” they confirmed, grabbing a new bottle of grenadine from under the counter and opening it, “he’s one of our regulars. You’ll get to know him.”

You laughed softly at your coworker calling him by the name embossed on the back of his jacket. “That’s not actually his name, is it?” you asked.

“It sure is.” They grabbed a shaker off the back counter and measured a shot of vodka into it. “Legal enough to be on his ID.”

You whistled low and slow, as if you were impressed. “What’s he like?” You’d always been a curious individual, but you were more than just a little curious about the menace in your place of employment.

“He’s friendly for the most part, at least with us. Doesn’t let anyone give us shit,” your coworker explained. You grabbed a rag from somewhere behind you, wiping away a wet spot on the counter as you listened, your eyes almost never straying from the handsome stranger. “He once took a guy out back after he tried to scream at me for “giving him the wrong drink.” In reality, he was just too drunk and ordered it wrong. Judas roughed him up a bit, and he hasn’t been a problem since.”

“Jesus.” You didn’t intend for it to come out so exasperated, so stunned, but nevertheless, it did. You turned to the back counter again, working alongside your coworker to open a series of beer bottles ordered by a group of young men, their faint discussion about a bachelor party blending into the background. “So is the whole rough-’n-tough-biker-aesthetic real, or is it just for show?”

They shrugged, a hint of curiosity etched into their features as they wondered why you had so many questions about him. “Real as far as I’m concerned. Why?”

“Just looks like he’s trying too hard is all,” you admitted, a soft chuckle slipping through your lips. You helped your coworker open the last of the beers as they began passing them off.

“Who’s tryin’ too hard?”

The unfamiliar voice behind you caught your attention, startling you slightly. Turning around, you were surprised to see the man clad in leather staring back at you, his elbows propped up against the counter as he leaned over it slightly, arms folded. Where did he come from? How long had he been standing there? But more importantly, how much had he heard?

One of the perks of having him at the counter was finally being able to get an up-close look. The first thing you noticed about him was his eyes. They were piercing, the most stunning shade of blue you’d ever seen. They were almost hypnotic, and you had to keep yourself from drifting closer, fighting against your body’s pull toward him.

The second thing was his scent, a mix of whiskey and after-shave. While you normally hated the scent of both of those, the olfactory cocktail of this scent was heaven. You’d do anything to get a whiff of that scent up in his personal space.

And third was the toothpick in his mouth. It dangled from between his teeth, the front tip slightly frayed from overuse. It looked worn, wet, like he was on his last toothpick and using it until he could no more. You weren’t sure why, but you found it endearing.

Before you could think of anything to say in response, your coworker—or your saving grace, as you’d probably call them in that moment—interjected.

“Judas, this our new girl, Y/N,” they said, gesturing first from him to you, then vice versa, “Y/N, this is Judas. He’s usually here every weekend, along with a lot of the other regulars.”

“Lovely to meet you,” he mused, drawing out each word like he was savoring the way they fell from his tongue. He extended a hand toward you, expecting you to return the gesture.

Being polite, you reached out to return the handshake. It was firm, solid, and his hands felt exactly how you expected they would—calloused and work-worn. There were faint grease stains here and there, but none of it was a deterrence to you. “So can I call you Jude?” you inquired.

“You?” He gave you a not-so-subtle up-down, his eyes seeming to linger over every inch of you half a second longer each time they moved. “You can call me whatever you want.” The blush in your cheeks was heavy, only disguised by how dim the bar had become. “When’d you start here?”

“Just a couple of days ago,” you explained, unconsciously fiddling with a loose string on the hem of your t-shirt, “what’s your drink of choice? Gotta work on committing everyone’s to memory.”

He gave you another up-down, and you were suddenly very self-conscious, fighting the urge to cover yourself with your arms by shoving your hands in the pockets of your jeans. “Just a tall glass of you,” he teased.

Your breath caught in your throat, your words following suit. Normally, you were never one to be left speechless, yet here you were, stuttering and tongue-tied. He simply stared at you, a subtle grin breaking through despite his efforts to keep his expression stoic. “I—umm…I—“

“Nah, I’m just messin’ with you.” He shrugged it off, playing it casual. His tone betrayed him, revealing to you that it was, in fact, far more than casual. “Usually do a beer or a Jack ‘n Coke.”

The scoff-chuckle that emanated from the depths of your chest lingered in the man’s ears, making his brain tingle in a way he wasn’t anticipating. In a way he liked. Really liked. “I should’ve guessed that.”

Another coworker of yours came up, offering Judas a smile before turning back to you. “Hey Y/N, manager wants to see you in the office for a second.” They sighed softly and laughed as a slight expression of worry crossed your face. Anyone who’d known you for more than five minutes knew you were one to jump to conclusions. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. You’re not in trouble.”

“Oh thank god,” you smiled, relief escaping your chest as you exhaled.

“Said there’s still some paperwork you need to finish. It’ll probably take you the rest of the night.” they explained, stepping over to take your place behind the counter, “you go on ahead. I’ll cover you.”

You nodded to your coworker before turning back to the biker, your smile growing slightly at the sight of him. “It was nice to meet you, Jude.”

“I’ll see you later, doll,” Judas replied, offering you a two-finger salute. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, the sound playful and teasing, leaving him with another radiant smile of yours before you turned to leave.

As you walked in the back to your manager’s office, you knew he was right—you’d definitely be seeing him later. The context, though, was up for debate, but you had a feeling it wouldn’t just be back here at the bar.

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie @holdmytesseract @dixons-sunshine

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[carpenoctxrn]

a hoax, a bait, a challenge (Ominis Gaunt x fem!reader) Part 2

Disclaimer: mentions of face-sitting, boob-job, horny Ominis, horny reader.

AN: Okay I think I will do one more part. And yes I like making Ominis obsessed with the reader because I like them possessive...

Word Count: 8426

Masterlist

Ominis Gaunt strode through the library, his wand tapping lightly against the floor with the faint click-click-click that echoed in the quiet room. The sun bathed the far corner in golden light, his preferred spot, where the rays would warm his back as he worked through the labyrinth of notes and textbooks. But as he approached, something felt… off.

Someone was sitting in his seat.

He sighed. “Sebastian? Why aren’t you in class?” he called out, setting his stack of books down with a deliberate thud.

“Didn’t feel like it,” Sebastian replied lazily, his mouth half-full of an apple as he flipped through a worn tome.

Ominis ran his fingers over the chair next to him before sitting, exhaling sharply. “Why am I not surprised?” he muttered, his tone tinged with exasperation. “Please, keep yourself entertained. I have actual work to do, and I’d rather not get swept into one of your scandals today.”

“Scandal?” Sebastian asked with mock offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Ominis retorted, already busying himself with his textbook. His wand traced the Braille like enchantments on the page, one hand gliding across the text while the other jotted notes in impeccable handwriting.

For a while, the only sounds were the scratching of quill on parchment and the occasional crunch of Sebastian’s apple. But then, from somewhere behind them came the unmistakable sound of giggling.

Ominis stiffened. “Merlin’s beard, that’s distracting,” he muttered, his jaw tightening as the laughter grew louder.

Sebastian smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like someone found this month’s issue of Haughty Witches and Naughty Snitches,” he said, the amusement clear in his voice.

Ominis paused mid-sentence, his brow furrowing. “The what now?”

“Oh, come on,” Sebastian said, sitting upright with sudden enthusiasm. “You remember the first time we found a copy? Fourth year, I think it was. Or was it third?”

“I’m choosing not to dignify this conversation with a response,” Ominis deadpanned, his focus snapping back to his notes.

“Don’t give me that look, Ominis. It’s a natural part of life,” Sebastian said smugly.

“Yes, Sebastian, I agree that sex is a natural part of life,” Ominis replied coolly, “but a woman performing pull-ups with her-” he hesitated, his face turning pink, “...her assets out is not.”

“She was doing a challenge! That takes skill, Ominis. Skill and dedication,” Sebastian said, shaking his head at his friend, making his blind friend feel as if he doesn’t recognize talent or dedication.

“Speaking of challenges,” Ominis said, his tone suddenly lighter, “did you know I’m currently participating in one myself?”

Sebastian straightened, intrigued. “Oh? You? Participating in a challenge?”

“Yes. My dear girlfriend bet me that I couldn’t keep my hands off her for a week. Naturally, I countered with the same bet. She’s convinced I’ll cave first,” Ominis said, the corners of his mouth curling into an amused smile.

Sebastian stared at him for a long moment before placing a solemn hand on his shoulder. “Ominis, you’re going to lose.”

Ominis blinked in surprise. “What? That’s absurd. If anyone has self-control, it’s me. Between the two of us— ”

“Stop right there,” Sebastian interrupted, leaning closer with an almost pitying expression. “Ominis, do you remember two months ago when she left for three days?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Ominis asked, already growing defensive.

Sebastian’s smirk widened. “You turned into a bloody menace. You walked straight into a Quidditch match, while it was in progress, just to Accio the Snitch and blow it to bits. Your excuse? ‘The first years were making too much noise.’”

“Well, they were— ”

“It was their first win of the season! They had every right to cheer!”

Ominis opened his mouth to retort, but Sebastian wasn’t finished.

“And let’s not forget the second game of the season. You were all smiles, eating stale popcorn with a pleasant expression because she was sitting right there next to you. Coincidence? I think not.”

“That’s just basic decency, Sebastian. Good company should always be appreciated,” Ominis said, lifting his chin in defiance.

“Sure, sure,” Sebastian said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Except Imelda swears she saw her limping that day, and according to her, you’re quite the—how did she put it—‘big guy.’”

Ominis froze. His quill stopped mid-dip into the ink, and a scarlet blush crept across his face.

Sebastian grinned wickedly. “Face it, Ominis. You’re doomed.”

“And why is my handsome boyfriend doomed?” Her voice chimed from behind, soft and lilting, but carrying just enough edge to tease. The sound made both boys pause, but it was the warmth of her touch that pulled Ominis’ attention completely. She slipped up beside him, her presence as familiar and comforting as the sunlight streaming through the library windows.

Ominis felt the heat creep up his neck as he turned toward her, his cheeks tinged pink, a rare sight on his typically pale, freckled complexion. Unless of course when they otherwise occupied in their relationship, Ominis never blushed. “My love, you’re out early,” he said, his voice softer now as he stood and reached for her.

She came to him effortlessly, as if drawn by some magnetic pull. He placed his hands lightly on her waist, her hands sliding up to rest on his neck. The kiss she gave him was quick and light, yet it lingered in his mind like the taste of something sweet.

“You can thank Garreth for that,” she replied with a small laugh as she slipped into the chair Ominis had already pulled out for her, ever the gentleman.

Sebastian raised a skeptical brow. “But you weren’t even in Potions,” he pointed out, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement.

“True,” she admitted, smoothing her robes as she sat. “But unfortunately for everyone in Divination, there’s tea, and Garreth Weasley has an endless supply of recipes in that head of his.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course he does. That boy would turn a funeral into a brewing experiment.”

As the two chatted, her fingers drifted toward Ominis’ hand resting on the table. It was a habit of hers, one Ominis adored. She would absentmindedly trace the lines of his palm or run her fingertips along his knuckles. Only this time, it was different.

Her fingers found his fingers—the same two that had been intimately acquainted with her last night. She trailed them with deliberate strokes, her touch feather-light but undeniably intentional.

Ominis froze. His mind betrayed him, conjuring vivid images: her flushed face, her breathless gasps, the way her doe eyes locked with his as she-

“Are you alright, Omi?” she asked sweetly, her hands sliding up to rest on his neck. The coolness of her touch made him jump ever so slightly, jolting him from his thoughts.

Her tone was syrupy, laced with mischief, and he knew- oh, he knew - she was doing this on purpose.

Sebastian, sharp as ever, leaned forward with a wicked grin. “Yeah, you’re looking a little… flushed, Ominis,” he teased, drawing out the last word.

Ominis’ jaw tightened. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Sebastian?” he bit out, his dead eyes boring into his friend with a sharpness that could cut glass. Even without sight, Ominis’ piercing gaze was enough to make Sebastian straighten, a shiver running down his spine.

“All right, all right. Don’t get your knickers in a twist,I’m leaving.” Sebastian stood, still chuckling as he grabbed his half-eaten apple and the tome he’d been leafing through. “Though I do need to find Weasley and ask how he pulled that off.”

“Check the Divination classroom,” she called after him, her tone perfectly pleasant. “He’s probably still cleaning up the mess.”

“Noted,” Sebastian said with a wink before sauntering off, his laughter echoing faintly as he disappeared among the shelves.

The moment he was out of earshot, she turned back to Ominis, her movements quick and deliberate. The soft strands of her hair brushed against his cheek as she did, sending a shiver down his spine.

“So,” she said, her voice low and teasing as her smirk spread wide. “Why are you doomed, Ominis?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat. “I was hoping you hadn’t heard that part.”

“Oh, but I did,” she purred, leaning closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “And I want to know everything.”

“Sebastian thought the challenge assuming,” Ominis spoke truthfully as he began gathering his books and quills. 

“He thinks that I don’t have the capacity to regulate my emotions without…” his word halted as his actions did so “release.”

Ominis’ voice was smooth, steady, and entirely too composed. It caught his girlfriend off guard, especially since she was expecting the usual hint of rosy embarrassment to bloom on his pale, freckled cheeks. Normally, the mere whisper of anything remotely intimate, specifically involving him, was enough to send his carefully curated poise toppling faster than a tipsy Prewett on a broomstick.

This time, however, there was no such reaction. Instead, Ominis spoke with a calmness that unsettled her, as if he had mastered some secret she wasn’t privy to.

Her eyes flicked up to his face, searching for any trace of the usual pink hue or flustered demeanor, but all she found was his characteristic serene expression. She hesitated, suddenly unsure how to respond. “Oh,” she mumbled, her voice quieter than she intended, as she clutched his notes close to her chest. Basically embracing it to herself.

Ominis suppressed the smirk threatening to creep onto his face, savoring her rare moment of uncertainty. He didn’t press, letting the silence stretch just long enough to leave her wondering before he reached for his heavier books.

As they rounded a corner, their sides brushed together in that effortless way they always did when walking side by side. Ominis leaned just slightly closer, his movements subtle, as though the proximity were accidental. But it wasn’t.

His nose caught a whiff of her familiar scent; something soft and warm, with a hint of lavender. He breathed in a little deeper, savoring the way it wrapped around him, filling his lungs like a comforting charm. The corners of his lips twitched upward.

He loved her. Every little thing about her, from her laugh to the way she fit so perfectly beside him. And while he didn’t mind losing their playful wager it didn’t stop him from relishing moments like this. Moments where he could get the upper hand, even if only for a second.

“Sebastian,” he began, his tone light and conversational, “is wrong about most things. This time is no different.”

The casual dismissal caught her attention, and she glanced up at him with a raised brow, only to find his expression completely neutral. His delivery was so nonchalant it was impossible to tell if he meant the words or if he was simply trying to get under her skin.

Before she could form a response, Ominis tapped his wand, sending the library door swinging open with a practiced ease. He stepped aside, gesturing subtly for her to go first.

“After you, my love,” he said, his voice dipping just slightly into a warmer tone that sent a shiver down her spine. It was her who was now basically turning red.

Her steps faltered briefly as she passed through the doorway, her mind racing to decipher whether he was teasing her, challenging her, or simply enjoying her confusion. She turned her head to glance back at him, and though his unseeing eyes remained forward, the faintest smirk played at his lips.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that Ominis was toying with her. It was subtle, in the way he spoke and carried himself, but she knew him well enough to notice. Her thoughts drifted briefly to the time she had confessed something… unexpected.

She had told him outright that his gentlemanly nature turned her on more effectively than a Lumos charm lit up a pitch-black corridor. The shock on his face had been priceless. “These are the bare minimum,” he had said, looking genuinely baffled by her declaration. She’d replied in her own way—by dropping to her knees and showing him just how much she appreciated his “bare minimum.” That memory still lingered, vivid and unshakable.

Before she could get lost in those thoughts, she cleared her throat, the flush rising in her cheeks betraying her composure.

“Are you all right?” Ominis asked, his voice warm and amused. He didn’t need to see her to know exactly why she sounded so flustered.

“Something in my throat,” she muttered, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

Ominis chuckled softly but didn’t comment, choosing instead to savor her bashful tone. He loved these moments, where her sharp wit gave way to sweet timidity.

As they reached the doors leading outside, Ominis suddenly turned the other way, heading toward the familiar path leading to the Slytherin dorms.

“Omi,” she called after him, quickening her pace to catch up. “Lunch is this way.”

“Yes, love, I know,” he replied calmly, his wand tapping lightly against the stone floor. “But I thought it’d be wise to drop off my supplies before dinner.”

She caught up, falling into step beside him. “And?” she pressed, sensing there was more to his diversion.

“And,” he added, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks, “I have a gift for you.” His tone softened, and his unseeing eyes seemed to gleam with something that made her heart flutter.

Her curiosity ignited instantly. “What is it?” she asked without hesitation.

Ominis laughed at her eagerness, the sound light and genuine. “You’re impatient as ever.”

“I’m just a curious girl,” she mumbled, a slight pout forming on her lips as they continued toward the dorms.

And then the questions began. “Is it white?” she asked, tilting her head in thought.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ominis replied smoothly, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

“Oh, right,” she muttered with a grin. “You’re more blind than first years helping Garreth brew potions in exchange for those god-awful crude magazines.”

Ominis chuckled, shaking his head. “A generous comparison, but I like to think I’m slightly more competent than they are.”

She giggled, but her curiosity wouldn’t let up. “Can you touch it?”

Ominis gave her a look before he raised an eyebrow “Like most gifts i give, yes you can.” he spoke softly trying not to showcase his notorious Gaunt annoyance at stupidity.

If Sebastian had been the one to ask such an absurd question, Ominis knew exactly how he’d respond.

“Sebastian,” he’d say in his most exasperated tone, “sometimes when you speak, you force me to believe that you fell off your broomstick and hit your head on every branch of the Whomping Willow.”

His girlfriend couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. “I guess that was quite the ‘Sebastian question,’” she quipped, clearly amused by her own joke.

“You guessed correctly,” Ominis replied with a chuckle, shaking his head as he imagined Sebastian’s affronted face. The conversation dissolved into soft laughter, and for a time, their walk fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the quiet hum of her voice.

It was a tune Ominis recognized—a jaunty melody she must have picked up from one of the castle’s many eccentric portraits. Specifically, a portrait named Salamander.

Salamander was a younger-looking wizard, forever captured in the prime of his life, whose painting hung in a hallway near the Astronomy Tower. Despite his best efforts to rise above petty feelings like jealousy, Ominis couldn’t stop the irritation bubbling up at the sound of that blasted tune.

“Mind changing the tune, love?” he asked as they rounded another corner, keeping his voice calm and even.

“Sorry, Omi,” she said, her tone light and unbothered. “I was just talking to Mander about constellations and how stars change over the centuries. We had quite the conversation. At first, he thought it was because the Earth is flat, but I explained why that’s not true.”

Her voice carried on, animated and carefree, as if she didn’t notice Ominis stiffening slightly beside her.

He wasn’t hearing anything after the word Mander. Mander. She’d given him a nickname.

His jaw tightened. Nicknames were a rare and precious thing, and the only two men privileged enough to have them were Ominis Gaunt himself and Sebastian Sallow. And now now this Salamander had joined their exclusive club? His thick brows twitched as her cheerful recounting of her conversation went on and on and on about that irritating portrait.

“He sounds absolutely delightful,” Ominis said finally, his tone tight as he worked to keep his jealousy at bay. “Though I suspect he must’ve been dropped as an infant—several times, at least.”

She didn’t catch the bite in his words. Instead, she smiled, trotting a little faster to keep up with his suddenly longer strides. “Oh, he’s wonderful, Omi. And he’s a poet!” she added with a bright enthusiasm that only made the knot in his chest tighten.

“He wrote me a poem about how my eyes remind him of the stars,” she said, her voice dreamy. “It was soooo beautiful. I wish I could remember it word for word.”

Ominis’ grip on his wand tightened imperceptibly, and his jaw clenched so hard he thought it might crack. Of course this Mander had written her a poem. Of course, it had been about her eyes. He was a painting, for Merlin’s sake, an inanimate object! Yet here he was, swooping in with flowery words and lofty metaphors.

“How… poetic of him,” Ominis managed to say, his voice strained as his long strides carried them faster toward the dorms.

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You’re walking so fast, are you all right?”

“Perfectly fine,” he replied curtly. “Just eager to get back.”

Her confusion melted into a soft smile as she caught up to him, slipping her arms into the crevice of his elbow. “You’re adorable when you’re in a hurry, you know that?”

Ominis faltered slightly at her words, his tense expression softening. He exhaled, his lips twitching upward into a small, reluctant smile. His strides now matching her pace.

“Adorable, am I?” he asked, his tone lighter now.

“Absolutely,” she teased, squeezing his hand. “Though I still think Mander would have something to say about it.”

His smile froze. Mander again.

Ominis swore that painting would be moved to the darkest, most forgotten hallway in Hogwarts before the week was out.

Before Ominis could fully plot where Salamander’s portrait would meet its unfortunate relocation, Leander Prewett’s voice rang out, startling both of them.

“Oi! What are the lovebirds up to?” Leander called, swaggering over with a smirk as he glanced between them.

She turned toward him, blinking in surprise. “Leander,” she greeted, her tone curious. “What do you want?”

“Nothing much,” he said, eyeing them with a grin. “Just wondering if you two are up to anything interesting.”

“Oh, you know,” she said breezily, her lips twitching into a mischievous grin. “Just making Ominis jealous of Salamander.”

Ominis stopped dead in his tracks, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to full-blown betrayal. His pale freckled face twisted into a scowl that screamed, How dare you.

Leander frowned, clearly baffled. “The painting?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to connect the dots.

“Exactly,” she replied, giving a small, conspiratorial nod.

Meanwhile, Ominis’ frustration simmered just below the surface. “Can we help you, Prewett?” he snapped, his tone sharp and utterly devoid of patience.

“Oh, not you, Gaunt,” Leander said dismissively, waving a hand as though Ominis wasn’t even there. “I need your girlfriend.”

Ominis’ grip on his wand tightened, but before he could respond, Leander reached into his robe and produced a neatly wrapped package. It was wrapped in black, silk-like paper and topped with a bright yellow bow.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and took the package from him. “Who’s this for?” she asked, turning it over in her hands before noticing the name written in tidy handwriting. “Imelda?”

“Of course,” Leander said, puffing his chest out slightly as if proud of himself.

Her lips twitched, and she leaned in closer to inspect the gift. “Oh, Poppy’s going to have a field day with this,” she murmured under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.

“What was that?” Leander asked, leaning forward, his confusion deepening.

“Nothing,” she said smoothly, slipping the package into the deep, enchanted pocket of her robe with a quick flick of her wand. “I’ll give it to her when I see her.”

“Thanks,” Leander said with a satisfied nod. “And make sure to tell her it’s from her secret admirer, yeah?” With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered off, clearly proud of his efforts.

As soon as he was out of earshot, her face split into a wide grin, her mind already racing with the chaos this would undoubtedly cause.

Ominis, still by her side, tilted his head toward her. “What’s the smirk for, love?” he asked, his tone curious as he guided them back toward the path leading to the dungeons.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, though her voice was laced with amusement. “Just thinking about how karma works.”

Ominis arched a brow but didn’t press further. They walked in companionable silence, their steps muffled as they moved through the shadowy halls. The air grew cooler as they descended, and the torchlight flickered faintly against the stone walls.

She glanced around, noticing the path they were taking. Her grin widened when she realized he was sneaking her into his room. Ominis was weaving through the less-traveled corridors to avoid detection, leading her deeper into Slytherin territory.

“Ominis,” she whispered, her tone playful, “are you sneaking me into the boys-only dormitory?”

Ominis smirked, a rare, devilish gleam lighting up his pale features. “Perhaps,” he replied smoothly, his voice low and teasing. “We could not go, if you wish to not receive your present?”

She laughed, her voice soft and melodic, and slipped her hand into his. “Okay, okay I’ll bite,” she said, squeezing his hand gently as they disappeared into the shadows.

The light echoes of their footsteps became a comforting sound in the abandoned hallway, the tune she hummed now was one from a candy from honey dukes. Ominis forgot the name of the candy but he knew exactly how it tasted in her mouth.

As they ascended up towards the dorm and made some quick and swift turns at the corner. The pair finally at ease as they entered Ominis and Sebastians shared dormitories. 

“Go sit on my bed love, I will come back with the gift.” Ominis said as he set his study books on his study table before heading towards his closet. Opening it his suits and robes are all hanging. All looked pristine.

HIs girlfriend was seated on his bed as she observed his figure. The light from the lantern nearby illuminates his feature in a glow that mimicked the setting rays of sunshine. His pale skin and platinum hair looked ethereal. His features are so soft and delicate. 

“Here it is,” he said as he picked up a neatly folded stack of clothes. 

“What is Omi? What did you get me?” His girlfriend asked, now more excited than ever.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm, knowing very well that he really should just give him the gift than making her wait.

As her hands held on to the delicate and soft fabric of silk her eyes widened.

“This is lingerie, Ominis!” She said as she looked at him.

“Yes it is my love, keen observation.” Ominis spoke as his eyes had a flutter of tease and amusement in it.

“Well Ominis I am unsure if you heard me correctly yesterday but yo-” Before she could reiterate the rules of the challenge Ominis interrupted.

“There is no rule against gift giving.” He said softly as he sat on his study chair. His mind materialises the image of the girl looking at him rather than the lingerie in her hand.

“..I suppose.” She mumbled as she felt the fabric slip and soothe her fingers with its coolness.

“What color is it my love?” Ominis asked.

“It’s black.” She said with a smile on her face as she appreciated the intricate lace and all.

“I figured it since it smelt of ink and lavender. That's why I bought it, it reminded me of you.” He said with a slight pink on his face.

An idea streamed its way inside his girlfriend's head.

“Hmm.. it’ll be a shame for me to wait a whole week before I could wear such a thoughtful gift.” She said teasingly.

Ominis raised an eyebrow before asking “What are you getting at love?”

“I think I would like to wear this now, Omi be a dear and turn around would you please?” she asked with a smile.

“I believe that is a violation of the rules you set upon us.” He said feeling as if his gifts may have backfired.

“There was nothing about getting naked in each other's proximity.” She said softly as she came closer to where he was seated.

She placed her hands on his thighs, as she kissed his lips softly. The intimate action was welcomed. Her lips captured him in a slow kiss as if to say thank you.

“Thank you for the gift Omi,” she whispered in her ears before she kissed it.

Ominis just kept turning red. His body felt hot and his mind felt fuzzy.

What was he thinking? He brought the hottest girl he knows into his dorms, to give her lingerie as a gift all the while he is participating in a challenge with said girl of celibacy for a week.

He practically dug himself the hole for him to lie in.

“Turn around Omi,” she said in a voice feigning annoyance. As she walked over to the bed, her back to the boy behind her, she began to undress.

Her rob was the first to hit the ground below her, then her tie, then her white shirt. And Ominis felt his heart skip a beat as she came into her mind. Now clad in her skirt, socks and shoes but her back was naked. His little minx of a girlfriend forgot her bra. Then came time to take off her skirt and Ominis couldn’t help but hold his breath. He felt the familiar rush of blood through his body, the familiar knot in his throat, and the knowing heat that brewed in his stomach. 

He was getting aroused. 

“You know I was scared that I would be late for breakfast, so I just didn’t wear my knickers or my bra.” She said casually as she took off her skirt. Bending over a bit. The image of her supple skin glistening in the light came into view and Ominis finally realized what he was challenging himself to not do for a week.

He basically challenged himself to not caress her soft meaty thighs as he buried - no he can’t. He can't reminisce about what he can’t do, because then he will do it. Yes he had great restraint in the outside world but this was his dormitory for heaven's sake. He is sure that he has tainted this room more than Sebastian, and that is a fact.

Another image invaded Ominis’ mind— his girlfriend standing before his mirror, adorned in the black silk panties that clung a little snug to her hips, the delicate lace tracing patterns against her soft skin. She reached behind her, fingers expertly hooking her bra into place, completely unaware of the absolute torment she was putting him through. Her ponytail had come undone, and now her hair cascaded over her shoulders, teasing him further as it brushed against the swell of her chest.

“This looks so cute!” she gushed, turning from side to side to admire herself in the mirror.

Ominis’ chest felt tight. His mind had short-circuited. He was staring— gaping, really— his cheeks flaming red as his body grew unbearably warm.

This was supposed to be her latest attempt to seduce him, a move in their ongoing game to see who would cave first. But she had gotten completely sidetracked, too busy admiring the gift to remember her mission.

"Isn't it, Omi?" she asked, spinning toward him with genuine excitement.

He barely managed a reply. “Ye-yeah,” he croaked, stepping forward until he was right behind her. She was still admiring the way the silk hugged her when he lightly placed his hands on her hips.

In an instant, she turned and pressed soft, giddy kisses to his lips.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she murmured between each peck, her warmth sinking into him, her scent, mallowsweet and vanilla, wrapping around him like a spell.

It was too much.

The familiar weight settled low in his abdomen, his body betraying him in a matter of seconds. His cock pressed insistently against the fabric of his robe, a physical reminder of just how little control he had when it came to her.

And the worst part? It had taken nothing for her to unravel him. She could have been wearing a jester’s costume, and he still would have felt the same. Because it wasn’t about the silk, or the lace, or the way it clung to her curves.

It was her.

Her laugh. Her scent. The way she felt. The way she felt about him.

And Merlin, was he a mess for her.

“Are you okay, Omi?” she asked, blinking up at him before following his gaze down.

Her lips parted, and a slow, mischievous smile crept onto her face. “Oh… does someone need help?” she teased, voice dipping into a knowing lilt.

Ominis froze. His grip on her hips tightened ever so slightly, his throat dry as he struggled to maintain some semblance of composure.

"That's j-just a normal reaction," he muttered, his voice low, warm against the side of her face.

A shiver coursed through her, her skin erupting in goosebumps at the sound of his voice. She swallowed hard, but it was too late— her body had already responded before her brain could catch up.

She let out a soft, broken whimper.

And suddenly, the dam broke.

Ominis pulled her flush against him, his mouth crashing onto hers with a desperation that left them both breathless. His hands were in her hair, on her waist, on her, kneading, feeling, memorizing the way she melted into him. Her hands were just as eager, slipping beneath his robes, pulling at his clothes with a feverish need to feel him.

"I told you, Imelda, I don’t- WOAH!"

Sebastian’s voice cut through the haze like a blade.

They froze.

Ominis turned so fast he nearly knocked her over, planting himself in front of his barely-dressed girlfriend as Sebastian and Imelda stood in the doorway, both looking thoroughly entertained.

From behind him, she let out a tiny squeak, grabbing onto Ominis' robe as she gladly hid behind his taller frame.

Sebastian’s smirk stretched across his face as he crossed his arms. "Well, well, well. Looks like it’s time for you to pay up, Reyes."

Imelda groaned, already pulling out a small satchel of gold. "I had more faith in you, Ms. Hero of Hogwarts," she grumbled.

"Wait!" she called from behind Ominis, making both intruders pause.

"What?" Imelda asked, clearly irritated.

"You didn’t lose, Imelda. We didn’t do anything besides some light making out," she said matter-of-factly before nudging Ominis. "Right, Omi?"

Ominis blinked, his mind still racing, his body still aching. But he forced himself to nod, his face burning. "She’s correct."

Sebastian sighed dramatically. "Fine." But his smirk didn’t waver.

She took the opportunity to grab her robe and wrap it around herself before stepping forward. "Why are you two even here?" she asked, pulling the fabric tightly around her as she stood next to Ominis.

"Sebastian said he didn’t have my Potions book-"

"Which I don’t!" Sebastian cut in quickly.

"Which he clearly does," Imelda deadpanned, as she picked up her book from the study table in front of them.

Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose. "As joyous as this reunion is, may I suggest you both leave so we can become a bit more… decent?"

He was amazed his voice didn’t waver.

"Five minutes," Imelda said before dragging a still-grinning Sebastian out with her.

The door shut. Silence fell.

"Soooo…" she started, pulling off her robe as she knelt to gather her discarded clothes.

Ominis swallowed hard. "Yeah."

She stood, slipping into her uniform with swift, practiced movements, casting a few quick spells to smooth out the wrinkles. Ominis did the same, knowing full well she’d fix his uniform properly in just a moment.

As expected, she turned to him, smoothing down his collar with gentle fingers. "I guess I really shouldn’t be worried."

Ominis raised an eyebrow. "Worried? About what?"

Her lips curled into a smirk. "About losing."

Ominis let out a soft chuckle before settling his hands on her hips, pulling her just a little closer. "I made a miscalculated decision," he murmured. "One that will not repeat going forward, my love."

And before she could respond, he tilted her chin up, brushing his lips over hers. His tongue traced the bottom of her lip before he pulled away— just a little tease, a taste of what was to come.

Her breath hitched, but she laughed, threading her fingers through his. "I really adore the gift, Ominis. I think I’ll wear it when I’m getting my way with you."

His grip on her hand tightened. "You’re a menace."

She giggled, tugging him toward the door. "And you love it."

Imelda and Sebastian leaned casually against the stone wall outside Ominis’ dorm, waiting. As soon as the couple emerged, Sebastian’s smirk deepened.

“So,” Imelda began, falling into step beside them as they made their way toward the quad. “Are you two planning to spend your nights in the Room of Requirement this week?”

Ominis frowned. “What for?”

Sebastian snorted, already knowing where this was going.

Imelda rolled her eyes. “Your lovely girlfriend explained the full terms of the bet, Gaunt. No wanking your willy, no flicking your bean— so wouldn’t it only be fair to spend the nights together as well? I mean, it’s not like you two haven’t done it before.”

Ominis opened his mouth, then promptly shut it.

She had a point.

His girlfriend hummed in thought before glancing up at him, amusement flickering in her eyes. “That does seem fair, doesn’t it, Omi?”

A pause. Then, begrudgingly, he sighed. “Fine.”

So it was settled.

Tuesday came and went without incident.

They both remained on their best behavior, though that wasn’t to say the tension wasn’t there; because it was.

Normally, Tuesday nights in the Room of Requirement were spent brewing potions, tending to plants, and— more often than not— tangled up in each other’s arms before bed. But not this time. Not with the bet hanging over them.

So instead of their usual routine, she sat behind him, fingers kneading into his back, working out the tension he refused to acknowledge.

Ominis knew she was up to something.

The moment she offered a massage, he had braced himself for torture - a slow, teasing descent into madness. But that wasn’t what happened.

There was no deliberate shift in her weight to press against him, no featherlight touches skimming too low, no sultry whispers against his ear.

Just her hands. Just steady, firm movements that should have lulled him into a state of relaxation.

And yet, he was more tense than before.

His muscles were coiled tight, his body on high alert, because none of this made sense.

She was supposed to tease him. Tempt him. Drive him over the edge until he cracked under pressure. That’s what he had prepared for.

Instead, she had done nothing.

Just as the unease was beginning to get to him, her hands stilled.

“I’m tired,” she murmured, shifting beside him onto her side. “I think I’ll stop here.”

He tensed further, waiting for the catch. But there wasn’t one.

She yawned, stretching languidly before curling up comfortably against the open space beside him.

“Goodnight, Omi.”

Her voice was sweet, too sweet, and when he turned his head toward her, he could practically hear the smirk in her tone.

Ominis lay rigid, mind spinning.

This was a trap.

It had to be.

But as the minutes stretched on, her breathing evened out, soft and steady. She had actually fallen asleep.

What the hell was she playing at?

She knew him too well.

She knew that if she had teased him, he would have resisted, fought back just as hard. But this? This was calculated.

Keeping him on edge. Keeping him confused.

And Merlin help him; it was working.

At some point during the night, Ominis succumbed to sleep. His body had finally relaxed, muscles no longer wound tight with tension. And when he woke, he felt, strangely, well-rested.

Except… something was off.

The warmth beside him had shifted. Her body had gravitated closer in sleep, her presence so familiar now that he could feel it even without touching her. He reached for his wand instinctively, letting the vibrations fill in the image his sight could not provide.

And Merlin, was it a sight.

Her hair spilled across the pillow like spilled ink, a chaotic mess around her peaceful face. Her lips were slightly parted, a faint line of drool escaping the corner of her mouth, completely unbothered in her slumber.

His mind drifted lower, tracing the delicate silk of her nightdress, short, because she preferred it that way. The thin straps had slipped from her shoulders, and with them, the fabric had shifted— too much.

His breath hitched.

One perfect breast had spilled free, soft, inviting, rising and falling with every slow breath she took.

Ominis clenched his jaw, swallowing against the immediate heat rushing through his body. But it was too late; his cock had already responded, painfully stiff, throbbing against the constraint of his underwear.

A low groan slipped from his lips as he felt the unmistakable dampness of precum leaking from the tip.

This was unfair.

She had done nothing, and yet here he was— wrecked.

-

Ominis stood abruptly, grabbing a fresh towel before making his way to the bathroom, his body aching for relief. The moment the door shut behind him, he let out a sharp breath, pressing his palms against the cool porcelain sink.

This was hell.

It wasn’t unusual for him to wake before her— she always slept longer, comforted by the familiar sounds of his morning routine. But today? Today, he needed to get away before he did something reckless.

He turned the knobs, letting cold water cascade over his overheated skin. The shock of it sent a shiver through him, pressing him back against the chilled stone wall. His cock was still hard, still leaking, and he hated how easy it was for her to do this to him.

Even now, his mind betrayed him.

The boat house.

Her.

The way she had pressed her tits together, slick and warm, dragging him between them before wrapping her lips around him. The way she whimpered, the way her tongue had—

Fuck.

Ominis' jaw clenched. His hips had jerked involuntarily, searching for the pleasure he refused to grant himself.

He gritted his teeth.

No.

Not here. Not like this.

The pressure in his abdomen coiled tighter, a slow, agonizing burn. He needed more—but he wasn’t going to lose.

He quickly turned the water from cold to warm, hoping to reset his thoughts.

It didn’t work.

Because now, the warmth reminded him of her, of the way her body pressed against his, the softness of her skin, the heat pooling between her thighs as she whimpered against him.

Ominis groaned, gripping his aching length for just a moment before yanking his hand away.

Am I really this weak?

Do I have no resolve?

Precum dripped onto the tile, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

This was supposed to be his damn solace.

Disgusted with himself, he shut off the water, stepping out of the shower still hard, still frustrated beyond belief. He wrapped the towel around his waist, gripping it tighter than necessary, willing himself to calm down.

And then— she walked in.

Yawning as she stretched, her silk nightdress hitching up just enough to reveal the soft underside of her ass.

Ominis nearly whimpered.

Instead, he swallowed his groan, his fingers twitching at his sides as she moved past him.

Completely. Unbothered.

This was unfair.

She grabbed her toothbrush and handed it to him with a small smile. “Good morning, Omi.”

He forced himself to take it, shoving it into his mouth before he could say something pathetic.

She started brushing her teeth, her voice muffled through the bristles. “You don’t take hot showers. What changed today?”

His grip on the sink tightened. “Nothing.”

Liar.

His wand was in his pocket, and despite himself, he couldn’t stop it from registering the details of the room; the way her breasts bounced as she brushed, the way her thighs pressed together slightly as she leaned over to spit—

Salazar, have mercy.

“Whatever you say, Omi.” She moved to wash her face, her voice still deep with grogginess, completely unaware of how utterly undone he was.

Or maybe…

Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.

When she stood straight again, water dripping down her neck, he was certain—

He needed to put his mouth on her.

But she didn’t give him the chance.

“I’m going to take a shower-” She paused, hesitating. He could hear the shift in her tone, could practically feel her catching herself before saying something dangerous.

He exhaled slowly.

She had almost invited him in.

Instead, she cleared her throat. “Never mind. Will you wait for me before breakfast?”

Ominis shut his eyes for a moment before replying, "Yes."

She disappeared into the shower, leaving him half-naked, painfully hard, and more frustrated than ever.

He stomped back into the room, dragging his robes on with more force than necessary.

The door opened again, and he heard it- 

The rustle of fabric. The soft zip of her skirt. The quiet snap of buttons being fastened.

And then… nothing.

Ominis turned slightly, waiting.

She always teased him when getting dressed. She always made a show of slipping into her uniform, always brushed against him in passing.

But today?

Nothing.

When she finally emerged, she was fully dressed—plaid skirt, vest, tie neatly knotted, socks pulled perfectly into place.

And Ominis?

Ominis felt betrayed.

Where was the game? Where was the seduction?

She sat at her vanity, combing through her hair as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

His mind raced.

Why isn’t she teasing me?

What is her play?

Isn’t she frustrated?

She hummed in thought, posing with different hairstyles before glancing at him. "Do you think I should leave my hair down today?"

Ominis barely processed the question.

When he didn’t answer, she huffed. “Omi, I want your opinion.”

He let out a slow, measured breath, gripping the edge of the bed. "Whatever makes you happy, my love."

She rolled her eyes. "That’s not an answer."

Neither was hers.

She was dodging the game, changing the rules, and it was driving him insane.

She finished combing her hair, and then–

The scent of mallowsweet filled the air.

Her perfume.

The last step of her routine.

Ominis sat stiffly, his cock still aching beneath his trousers. His body was begging for relief, and all she had done was get dressed.

She hadn’t flirted.

She hadn’t touched him.

She hadn’t even tried to seduce him.

And yet, she was winning.

His grip on the bed tightened.

He didn’t know what her plan was.

But he was starting to realize one very important thing,

He might actually lose this bet.

----

She liked to think she was winning. That her calculated restraint was driving Ominis mad with frustration.

But the truth?

She was suffering just as much.

She missed everything; the weight of him pressed against her, the slow grind of his hips, the way he groaned so sweetly whenever she had him in her mouth. Ominis was addictive, a drug she could never get enough of, and now? Now she was deprived.

Her body knew it.

During class, she was restless, her legs bouncing beneath the desk, fingers twitching against the parchment as she forced herself to focus. But it was impossible. The minutes dragged, each second more unbearable than the last, because all she wanted, all she needed, was to find Ominis and kiss him.

Just a kiss.

Something small, something innocent.

But still intimacy.

By midday, she was desperate, anticipation coiling in her stomach as she made her way to lunch. She could almost see it; Ominis waiting for her at their usual spot, his head tilted slightly toward the sound of her approach, a soft smirk playing at his lips.

But then a note arrived.

Ominis had sent word that he’d be spending the afternoon helping Sebastian and Anne with Potions. He wouldn’t be meeting her for lunch.

Her stomach dropped.

The devastation was instant, a wave of disappointment crashing over her so strongly that she froze in place. She knew where they’d be; the library, but she couldn’t just show up. That would be desperate.

So instead, she forced herself to stay away.

She tried not to think about him.

Tried not to think about the ache between her thighs, the way her body responded just from missing him.

But it was impossible.

Because she felt it with every step she took; the warmth slicking her inner thighs, the way her body wept for him, not from need or stimulation but from something deeper, something worse.

I miss him.

Not just his touch. Not just the sex.

Him.

Her mind drifted.

The first time Ominis had pinned her down and insisted— begged— for her to sit on his face. How nervous she’d been, worried she’d suffocate him, but he hadn’t cared. He wanted it. He wanted her.

And when she had finally given in?

He had pulled her down harder.

She had never been worshiped the way Ominis worshiped her. Never known that kind of devotion, that kind of intensity, until him.

Oh, fuck.

Her thighs pressed together, instinctive, but it wasn’t enough.

She needed him. Now.

Lunch forgotten, she wandered the castle grounds, hoping the cold air would settle her, but it only made her feel worse. Being outside without Ominis next to her felt wrong, felt lonely.

She didn’t even care about sex at this point.

She just needed him.

She didn’t think twice as she marched toward the library, entering with determined steps. But Ominis wasn’t there.

A pout pulled at her lips.

She spent the next twenty minutes searching, feeling ridiculous, before she finally checked the Potions classroom.

And there he was.

Beautiful. Frustrating. Hers.

He stood at the front of the classroom, methodically guiding Anne and Sebastian through the steps of brewing a Pepperup Potion. A punishment from Nurse Blaney for being caught stealing potions, and instead of detention, they had been assigned one hundred Pepperup Potions to make.

Cold season was approaching, after all.

She didn’t care about any of that.

“Ominis!” she gasped, rushing toward him, ignoring the startled looks from the others as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Hard.

Too hard.

But she didn’t care, because his lips were on hers, and that was all that mattered.

The moment was over in seconds, but she felt it everywhere— her lips tingling, her skin buzzing, her heart racing.

She pulled away just as quickly, breathless.

Ominis let out a low chuckle, his smirk unmistakable. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”

She scoffed, lifting her chin. “No, I could. I just came here to meet Anne.”

Anne blinked, confused. “…Me?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade today.”

Anne gave her a knowing look before smiling apologetically. “I can’t. I promised Natty I’d study for Transfiguration with her.”

A beat of silence.

Ominis smirked. “Caught in your lie.”

Her stomach flipped, heat creeping up her neck as his tone— so smug, so satisfied— sank into her skin.

Because he was right.

She had lasted half a day without him before completely unraveling.

And the worst part?

Ominis knew it.

---

By Wednesday night, Ominis and his sweet, infuriating girlfriend had made it to yet another night of self-control.

They were in bed, both immersed in their respective readings. Ominis lay propped up against the pillows, his wand hovering lightly over the pages of his book. He was clad only in silk sleep pants, having forgone a shirt; his preferred way to sleep. The air in the room was cool, but his skin remained warm, his body always carrying heat.

And she?

She was struggling.

She had been glancing at him for the past half hour, barely retaining any of the information from her Dark Arts History reading. How could she focus when Ominis was lying next to her like this? When his defined chest was exposed, when the gentle rise and fall of his breathing made his muscles shift just enough to distract her?

Tension wasn't thick, but it was there.

It had settled between them like an unspoken understanding; the constant awareness of each other's bodies, the quiet acknowledgment that one wrong move could unravel everything.

She sighed softly, finally giving up on her book. Closing it, she placed it on her nightstand before shifting closer, curling into Ominis’ warm side.

“Let’s cuddle, Omi.” Her voice was soft, sleepy, as she nuzzled against his bare chest.

A low chuckle rumbled through him. He set his book aside, adjusting easily to accommodate her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her against him.

“You’re so needy.” He teased, his lips brushing against the top of her head.

She hummed contentedly, one leg lazily slipping over his. “Says you.”

His chest vibrated with quiet amusement, his fingers lazily tracing circles along her exposed thigh.

Ominis was always warm, always steady, and right now, she felt safe; wrapped in the scent of him, surrounded by his presence, his touch, his breath.

For a moment, she let herself just be, breathing in the stillness.

Neither of them spoke further.

Neither of them had to.

The End.

Give me feedback and lmk anything else.

Also I'm just asking who do you guys want to win?

Masterlist

[merakiui]

Omg bug darling x Jamil is such a good concept 😭

Him hitting in the dark, but even that’s not enough so hes go bang from behind but then his puts his dick in that tiny bug pussy and he’s crumpling the moment he’s inside.

It’s probably like the best nut of his life and then the light turn off, the sight of his cum oozing from a half bug half human has him absolutely horrified

Horny but horrified 😭

Darling is only further attatched to him and he’s like fuck fuck fuck fuck get off.

Omg... Jamil and accidentally getting bug babies. No matter how much he hates your bug features he can’t stop hitting 😭 (bug pussy so good he can’t stay away) meanwhile darling is over the moon that her favorite person is the father... Jamil has to think about the fact his children are now part bug!!! Anyways I love the way you wrote darling essentially following his every step it was so delicouss

-🎨📝 anon

BUG PUSSY IS DETRIMENTAL!!!!! OTL

It doesn’t help that you sound so human when he’s hitting it from the back. >_< soft, sweet moans and the slick squelch of your pussy,,, the way you grab at the sheets and drool over his pillow… it fools him just enough to get off. It really is a life-changing nut. T_T maybe he’s just been extra stressed, but it doesn’t even matter right now because he feels so boneless in the best way every time he spills his load inside you.

And then the lights flip on and you’re passed out on the bed, quite literally fucked into unconsciousness, twitching in the aftershocks of pleasure like he just smacked you with a shoe, and he’s immediately throwing himself off the bed. </3

Poor bug darling. :< your heart is so big and you love Jamil so much, always clinging to him or following him around with this expression :D 24/7. Everyone thinks you’re his girlfriend and no matter what he does he just can’t get rid of you, but then he’s not making it much better for himself once the lights are off. :) omg….. and the bug babies. Maybe bug darling struggled to find a mate who could actually fertilize her eggs and here’s Jamil, doing it on the first try LOL. You’re meant to be. Or at least that’s what you think.

Ooooo and maybe Jamil who feels just the tiniest sliver of envy when Kalim is cozying up to you and being so kind. If anything, he should be happy and relieved your attention is off of him for once. But then why does he feel so irritated watching you fawn over Kalim and the game he’s teaching you? >:/ hehehe Jamil who doesn’t want Kalim to take yet another thing away from him, which is strange because this is the case where he should be thrilled to have bug darling out of his hair once and for all. And yet. :)

Omg and Floyd and Ace who think you’re just so fun and interesting. It’s amusing to see the visceral shiver that runs up Jamil’s spine when he spots you in the bleachers. Floyd who’s willing to take you off Jamil’s hands when you’re all stuffed up with eggs. He can help you lay them. He knows a thing or two about that~ If you’re ever craving sweets, you’ve got to let Ace bring you back to Heartslabyul for an unbirthday party. And he can’t wait to show you off to Deuce. Jamil wants those two to keep their grubby hands away from you.

Two wolves inside Jamil: the one that’s addicted to bug pussy and secretly thrives on the attention (you look at him like he hung the stars) and the other that can’t get past his horror and repulsion for bugs. ^^;;;

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Fall Into the Dark With Me Part 2: Follow Me✨

Dark Arts Professor! Joel Miller x Herbology Professor Fem! reader

Part 1

A/N: I loved the first part so much that I just had to make another. This one you get to see a sweeter side to Professor Miller 🥰 This is very nostalgic for me; I hope you like it as much as I do!

Summary: Professor Miller has a surprise for you, and he wants you to follow him into the forest.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 4.4k

Tags: Slytherin! Joel, Hufflepuff! reader, flirting, pining, no use y/n, Hogwarts AU, unprotected piv, creampie, fingering, no outbreak au, Dark Arts! Joel, Joel being in love

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  Spring rushes through the air—the scent of daffodils, orchids, and sunlight bathing your bright yellow sundress. The water across the top of the Black Lake glitters under the sun in the far distance. Hippogriffs fly majestically above the fluffy clouds that drift along the blue sky. Hogwarts never seemed quite like home as it feels now. 

   As for Joel. Well, let’s just say things are perfect. More than perfect, actually. He’s… wonderful. In all the ways he can be. Teasing but sweet, impossible yet oh so gentle, and so fucking soft. Whatever happened to the devious, sneaky flirt of a Slytherin? He’s still there, but he saves the best parts of himself for you. He’s your favorite part of every day, and that’s saying a lot. 

   Seven months. Has it already been seven bittersweet months with him? Gods, it doesn’t feel like it. But you’re oh so lucky to be tangled up with the troublemaker Slytherin who makes your heart sore like no one else can.

   As you walk down the cobblestone path right outside the courtyard of Hogwarts, you spot a familiar looking cunning Slytherin—the one who has dark tousled curls with greys glittering streaks in the sunlight. You park yourself in place, frozen in time, just so you can admire what’s yours. His broad body fills the expanse of his white silky button-up shirt, his biceps flex with every move he makes. His glittering brown eyes look like deep onyx, and gods, he oozes sex appeal in every single way he’s made. A sculpted jaw, grey-threaded scruff masking his tanned face, a plush mouth that’s made entirely for kissing every inch of you. And his heart—pure, impossibly warm, and full of love to give. 

   Joel Miller may have a bad reputation, but none of that even scratches the surface. Nobody knows Joel like you, this you know.

   “Professor Miller?” you call sweetly, your breath catching when he turns and gives you the most heart stopping smile you think you’ve ever seen.

   “There you are, my gorgeous Hufflepuff,” he grins, pushing himself off the wall so he can make his way up to you. 

   He takes his time, scuffs the deep green grass with the leather of his shoes, runs a hand through the back of his dark hair, making it messy and unkempt. You fucking love the sight. But even more, you love threading your fingers through his sandy locks, making it disheveled and sexy while he’s tossing you around his bed sheets. 

   When he reaches you, he gently caresses the side of your face and pushes a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, his lips skating over your skin until he’s pulling you in for a deep, romantic kiss. You fall into him, breathe in his woodsy scent, revel in how good it feels to be his.

   You quickly break the kiss, pushing at his broad chest to get some space. “Joel, stop. Someone might see.” You glance around the courtyard, scanning to make sure no students saw. 

   “So let them see.” He smirks your way, narrows his eyes teasingly and blows you a kiss. You instantly melt into him again, your hand brushing over his big paw of a hand.

   “I got your note. What were you wanting to show me?” you ask eagerly. He left you a note to meet him here half past noon, but that’s all he said. No hints for what, but you’d follow him into the deepest chambers of the castle. For him, you’d probably do anything.

   “Slytherins don’t tell their secrets, darlin’,” he whispers into your ear, gently blowing his hot breath against your neck. The feeling makes you dizzy. “Think you should know that by now.” He’s always teasing you, always making you squirm, but he fucking loves it, just like you do.

   “Joel Miller!” You push playfully at his shoulder, but he doesn’t even move an inch. Only filters a low, deep rumble of a laugh from the pit of his chest. It’s your most favorite sound on the planet—his contagious laugh. 

   “C’mon, this way.” He nods his head to the left and takes your hand, leading you down the cobblestone path till you reach a sea of endless trees.

   “Where are you taking me?” you laugh, allowing him to pull you along through the towering trees, the castle slowly slipping away from your view.

   “I already told you. It’s a surprise, and my lips are sealed.” He gives you another infectious smile and laces his thick fingers through yours, making your cheeks warm from the physical contact. You’d hold his hand forever if you could. 

   “You’re impossible,” you tease, shaking your head and following him through a multitude of colorful flowers. 

   “And you are beautiful,” he replies with a breathtaking grin. You’ve never seen him smile this much, and it’s making you fall more and more in love with him every second you spend with him.

   “Joel. You're going to make me blush,” you giggle, following after him like you’re chasing butterflies.  

   “Just like all those times in my bed sheets. I love painting you different shades of red.” He winks back at you and gives you a devilish smirk—one that could put you on your back. Smug bastard.

   And now you’re really blushing. He’s so untethered sometimes, but you love it. 

   “Such a tease,” you playfully retort back.

   “For you? Always,” he banters.

   He leads you further and further into the deep green forest, deeper than you’ve ever gone before. You think you hear a trickle of water, maybe hooves in the distance, birds flying through the trees. You’re about to ask but suddenly, you’re turning the corner of a huge tree trunk and coming face to face with what you were hearing. 

   You gasp, lose your breath at the sight that sits before you. An enchanted forest. That’s exactly what this looks like. A trickling pond of water flows through a green valley, the water shining and glittering like sparkles under the sunlight. Koi fish swim underneath the surface. A small waterfall crashes in the near distance, making droplets splash against the lush grass. Wildflowers sway in the breeze, covering various shapes of rocks and green surfaces. But what stops you in time is the white-coated unicorns grazing on the other side of the water. Their horns glitter like silver under the sunlight, and their eyes twinkle with kindness as they look up and greet you. 

   “Joel…” You’re absolutely speechless.

   “Surprise,” he smiles, brushing the back of his hand gently against your cheek. 

   “How did you…”

   “Find this place?” he finishes for you. “Actually discovered it last spring. Thought you might like to see it. Ya know, since unicorns are your favorite magical creatures, and this is the prime time when they’re out and about.”

   You pinch your brows together and shake your head, trying your best not to cry. But this—what he did for you—is the most amazing thing he’s ever done. So you let a tear fall. He catches it and brushes it away with the pad of his thumb, slowly turning your face to him as he caresses your face. 

   His eyes are gentle, glowing brown irises that shine just for you. “You like it, baby?”

   “Like it?!” You raise your voice but let it die down when one of the adult unicorns looks your way. “I love it,” you whisper. 

   He smiles and cups your chin with his thumb and index finger, pulling you in until his lips are covering yours. You breathe him in, letting the spearmint flavor of his tongue glide against your tastebuds, savoring the way his plush lips make you dizzy and disoriented. 

   When he pulls away, he lingers his fingers against your warm skin, takes a good look in your wide eyes that yearn for the big, gentle Slytherin man. “You see that unicorn with the gold dust on its horn?” He turns you to the side, right where you’re adjacent to the one he pointed out. 

   “Yeah,” you reply breathlessly. 

   “That’s its newborn. The little one grazing a few feet away with the silver tail. That one’s a special one. All that silver in its hair is rare. She’s a beauty, ain’t she?”

   You glance back and forth between Joel and the newborn, taking in the way Joel’s eyes soften when he talks about the magical creature. He looks so animated and alive, so giddy, in a sense. His eyes are crystal clear; you can make out almost gold dusting in his irises. 

   Wow. He really is breathtaking. 

   You beam up at him and give him a sweet smile. “Since when did you get so sentimental about magical creatures?”

   He bites his lower lip and runs an unruly hand through his dark locks. “Guess you rubbed off on me, little Hufflepuff.”

   Your eyes ease up at him, and you melt a little more for Joel Miller—the professor you never imagined would be this sweet. 

   He spins you around and slides his arms around your waist, pulling into his broad chest so you both can admire the crystal-clear view. It doesn’t take long till he’s dragging you to the ground, reeling you into his body. His arms stay tangled around your waist, but now he rests his chin on your shoulder and slowly peppers kisses along your jawline. Slow, sweet, savory. He’s all those things right now. 

   You sigh out in bliss, lacing your fingers through his while he whispers sweet incantations in the shell of your ear. 

   “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” His lips caress along the slope of your ear, driving butterflies into the pit of your stomach. 

   Groaning out, you nod. “You tell me every day,” you giggle, his lips sending another spell-bound shiver down your spine. 

   “Well, you deserve to be told every minute, every second of every day.” He presses another gentle kiss against your check, licks slowly down the nape of your neck, sending warmth rushing to your core.

   “Joel,” you say shakily, closing your eyes as he nips at your collarbone. 

   “Hm?” He’s long gone, already after one thing—your pleasure. 

   “The unicorns, they’ll see,” you say with a hitched breath as his hand skates under your yellow dress, trailing his hand up dangerously slow, moving your soft skirt out of the way, feeling his way up to your warm core. 

   “They won’t mind, sweetheart. No. They won’t pay no attention to what’s going on over here,” he smirks, skimming his hand over your clothed folds but quickly pushing your lace aside with his impossibly large fingers. 

   “Joel, please,” you whine, feeling his fingers ghost over your clit. Heat pulses through your eardrums, slick gathers across your folds. 

   “Please what?” he whispers in the shell of your ear; his slow Southern drawl wringing more slick down your thighs. He knows exactly what you want—he just loves to hear you beg for it. 

   “Need you to… touch me. Please,” you mewl, bucking your hips up to get a taste of the friction you desperately seek. He ghosts over you again and toys with you, making you groan in frustration. 

   “Touch you where, little Hufflepuff?” His deep timbre commands you to speak, and this is the devious Slytherin you’ve always known. This is the man who feeds on making you beg for it. 

   So arrogant, so teasing, so good. 

   You lick your bottom lip in frustration and strain out, “My clit. Please, touch my clit,” you plead with big, begging eyes. 

   “Attagirl,” he praises, blowing hot air down your neck as he finally gives in to what you need. 

   His fingers are on you in a second. Deft, thick fingers drawing meticulous circles on your clit. Spreading slick down to your folds, teasing at your dripping hole with another. 

   “Ahh, right there,” you pant, right when he hits that sweet spot in the middle of your clit, rubbing tight circles till you feel the coils snap inside you. You’re already so close, and he’s barely touched you. 

   He slips two thick fingers inside your dripping hole, gently massaging your walls, hitting that spongy spot deep inside you as pure ecstasy slides down your spine. His thumb plays against your staticky bundle of nerves like a symphony of music, deft fingers pumping in and out of you with rapt attention. It’s like he knows you inside and out better than yourself—knows exactly just how to get you off with the flick of his wrist. 

   “That’s my good girl. So good for me, little Hufflepuff,” he praises with the slide of his lips on your skin. “Go on, now. Know you’re close. Know you’re right there for me.” He presses down harder on your swollen clit, making you shatter and break right underneath him. 

   One more pump of his fingers and you’re done for. You cry out his name, moan through the pleasure as he brings you back down to earth with the pad of his calloused fingers. Fingers that can make you sing. 

   “There ya go,” he coos, gathering your slick on his fingers, rubbing you tenderly as he soothes the blinding orgasm from your body. Just when you open your eyes and catch your breath, Joel’s at it again. “Turn around,” he bites out. 

   He spins you around to where you’re straddling his large thighs, your center sliding over the thick bulge in his black slacks, making him groan from the friction of your wet pussy moving in a steady pace over him. 

   “Open that pretty mouth of yours and suck,” he commands with the low timbre of his voice, his eyes dark as he takes in the sight of your disheveled self. You obey, parting your lips, licking the sweet taste of yourself off him—slowly, listlessly till his black pupils are expanded into pure lust. He growls in a low, guttural groan, “So pretty.” You feel a wave of slick wash over you at the praise. 

   “Such a commanding Professor,” you whisper in his ear, taking your tongue and gliding slowly over the shell of his ear until he’s growling in yours.

   “S’right, pretty Hufflepuff. Jus’ for you,” he smiles while he unbuckles his belt, unzipping his slacks and freeing his hardened cock. You gasp as you watch him run his sticky precum up and down his shaft, the flash of his teeth biting as he lines himself up against your entrance. “Now, ride me.” It’s not an ask but a command, and you’re not in any position to say no to this brooding man. 

   Taking a deep breath, you moan at the stretch of his thick cock, feeling him pump inside your tight walls, reveling each time you slide down and let him bottom out inside you. He feels so good, always feels perfect inside you like he was made just for you. You think he was. 

   “Right there,” you moan against his open mouth, allowing his tongue to entwine with yours, swallowing each breath of yours as you bounce up and down on him, letting the friction against your clit send you into another atmosphere where only Joel can take you. 

   “That’s it, baby. Ride me like I give you the breath of life. Like I’m all you can see, feel,” he sings into the shell of your ear, nipping your skin with his teeth each time you settle all your weight on him. It’s like you’re under an enchantment, and you don’t want to come down anytime soon. 

   Throwing your head back, you close your eyes for just a second, letting the feel of his body take you to another dimension. “Professor Miller,” you moan out, letting each syllable fall from your swollen lips as he cups the back of your head and pulls you against his broad chest, molding your mouth to his so he can take every single part of you. 

   He doesn’t stop there. He lifts you up and spins you around, pinning your back to the ground so he can drive his full weight into you. “My turn,” he growls as he plunges his cock deep inside you, bottoming out again and again until all you can see is Joel’s blown out pupils shining under the sunlight, his hands holding your hips down so you can feel every hit, every single inch of his skin on yours. It’s electrifying. 

   Colorful butterflies take flight to the sky. Blue birds flit across the near distance, hovering above the leaning willow tree that almost blocks the sunlight from your eyes, but none of that remotely matters at this moment. Because right now you feel like you're flying on a broom, but Joel’s the one taking you for a ride. A ride you just can’t possibly get enough of. 

   You feel the coils start to snap in the pit of your stomach, feel yourself clench around his swollen cock, feel as if you’re drunk on a love potion with every languid stroke of his cock inside you. He must see your eyes get hazy, see that love struck glow as he stares down at you with rapt attention. You don’t miss the twinkle of love in his smoldering eyes. 

   “Joel, I’m—”

   “Not yet, pretty girl. Let me jus’ give you this…” He grunts through clenched teeth, clearly trying his best to hold on to his own pleasure, but he never lets himself finish before you do. Taking his index and middle fingers, he languidly circles your swollen bundle of nerves, placing just enough pressure to make your back arch off the plush grass, your lips parted in ecstasy as feelings of elation and sweet desire tug at your insides. 

   “Go on, my beautiful Hufflepuff. Want you to come on my cock for me,” he breathes through each word, sweat beading on his tanned forehead, a growl dragging out of his throat with each buck of his hips forward, his cock splitting you in two. 

   “Joel…” you squeak out the moment his fingers hit that super sensitive spot on your clit, making you see stars as you clench tightly around him, spilling your everything for him. White-hot liquid takes hold of you, consumes your very essence while Joel talks you through it, even when you’re seeing double in front of you. That’s just how mind blowing his orgasms make you feel. Completely and utterly satiated in the best possible way.

   “There ya go. Attagirl. That’s my good girl,” he praises with the stroke of his knuckles against your cheek, holding himself together until he can’t anymore. He thrusts once more and then spills his warm liquid seed all inside you, claiming you as his one and only once again. 

   When he pulls out, he collapses next to you, pulls his slacks up and repositions himself with a loud huff. But in the next second, he’s pulling you into his arms, stroking the back of your head, whispering kisses across your forehead as sweet words melt off his tongue. “Did so good for me, always do so good for me, little Hufflepuff,” he breathes into your hair, filling you with so much love.

   “You always make me feel so good, Joel,” you hum into the air, your head flat on his broad chest, fingers tangled with Joel’s. 

   “Always wanna make you feel good,” he smiles, stealing your breath when he tips your head back and seals his lips over yours. When the kiss breaks, you nuzzle into the side of his neck, his hand stroking through your strands of hair lazily, breath matching your own labored breathing. 

   This right here is exactly where you want to always be. Laying beside the man you love, his arms tight around you, breathing in the smell of his mahogany and dragon heartstring scent, getting lost in an enchanted forest, colorful flowers surrounding the field, unicorns frolicking through the green trees, the rush of water floating down the rocks. You never want to be anywhere else. As long as you get this man, then that’s all you can ever ask for.

   After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Joel twists a strand of your hair around his index finger and flicks his eyes to you. “What are your plans for the summer?”

   You turn to face him, eyebrows knit together as you register the question. “I don’t know… I guess I haven’t really thought about it,” you reply honestly with your bottom lip between your teeth. “I was maybe thinking of taking a trip to the coast. Maybe doing some reading in my garden?”

   He flips your answer back and forth, fiddling with possibilities swimming in his onyx eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s up to, but you don’t get the chance because he’s muddling out words you hardly can believe. “Come home with me.”

   “What?” Your mouth is parted, breath knocked from your lungs. “You mean, Texas?”

   He shakes his head. “I mean, that’s my very first home. I could easily take you there too. But no. I mean, come back to London with me.”

   Go back to London with him? For the entire summer? Your heart swells in your chest, your eyes probably as big as the sun’s right about now, but you don’t care because this man just asked to take you home. To his home.

   “You want me to…” 

   He nods, smirking your way with that lopsided grin you can’t get enough of. “I want you to meet my girls, Sarah and Ellie. I want you to… I want you to spend your summer with me. With us.”

   Us. There’s a glisten of forever in those words. A promise that maybe this isn’t just a romantic school year fling. Maybe Joel Miller is your forever. A once dirty little trick to ensnare you in his trap, capture you so he could have his filthy Slytherin ways with you in his silky green sheets. But it turned out to be much more than that, didn’t it? He turned out to be the love of your life. Through the endless lunches, private picnics after classes, your hand in his while you strolled through the gardens, late nights spent in his sheets, laughing till way past midnight, getting lost in each other’s eyes across the dining hall. It was all so innocent until everything just came full force between the two of you. Neither of you expected love, but that’s exactly what you got. 

   “I… uhh, I don’t know what to say, Joel,” you say speechless, words failing you once again. But just like Joel, he picks your words right back up. 

   “I’d love nothing more, my pretty little Hufflepuff, if you’d join me for the summer. You’d have your own private room and bathroom, unless you’d want to stay in my room?” There’s hope burning in his eyes, amber flecks dancing in the wind as his smile pulls on your heartstrings. You never thought you’d love a man again, but here’s Joel just proving you wrong once again. 

   He’s… everything. 

   “You really want me to come home with you. You want me to meet your girls?” 

   “I want everything with you, my love. So, yes. Please, jus’ say yes.” His eyes soften into pure warmth, big brown eyes waning in the sunlight. You’ve never seen anything look so beautiful before. You’ve never seen Joel look so… happy.

   “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” 

   “That’s my girl. Now, c’mere.” He picks you up and settles you on top of his chest, your chin resting atop your crossed arms comfortably. Your eyes dance across his face, memorizing every line and wrinkle like his tanned skin is a map, and you’ll always find your way home through those swirling brown irises. 

   Pushing back a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, he sighs, “I love you, my little Hufflepuff.”

   “And I love you, my favorite, handsome Slytherin,” you answer back, love written all over your tone. You giggle out a question. “So, after all these years in London, you still haven’t picked up an accent.”

   He shakes his head, huffs out a laugh at that. “Nah. Think my Southern accent is here to stay, sweetheart. Not even a bunch of English people could get rid of that.”

   “That’s okay,” you say, smiling down at him. “I quite like your Texan accent. Makes you stand out.”

   “Oh, that what attract you to me?” he asks, nipping playfully at your jawline. 

   You throw your head back with a laugh and shake your hair out. “Not just that, no. I think it was the way you looked at me. Even that first day of school—like you wanted to get inside my head.”

   “Well,” he breathes, cupping your chin as he brings your lips down to his. “The truth is, I wanted to kiss those pretty red lips the first day I saw you. Thought you were so beautiful, so exquisite all doused in the glow of your plants,” he confesses, stealing your breath as he ghosts his lips over your mouth.

   “Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, leaning in further till you’re encapsulated in the scent of his woodsy cologne. 

   “Yeah. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you. Now I have you. Forever.” He smothers you in his lips, deeply kissing you till you’re lost in the whiskey scent of him, till you’re so far gone that you’re wrapped up in his warmth. 

   The sun’s rays douse your back in sunlight, the breeze from the crystal clear water blowing across the back of your legs, but you can’t seem to keep your mind on anything but the man who’s kissing you with passion you’ve never felt. 

   You stay there all day, until the sun starts to slip away from the golden horizon, until you’re hand in hand walking back to the castle with the love of your life. You never imagined you’d fall for a sly Slytherin, but you don’t think you’d have it any other way. No. A meek little Hufflepuff like yourself was made to find Joel Miller—the smartest, most handsome Slytherin you’ve ever met in your life. And this right here is your new favorite thing ever. 

   Maybe one day you’ll walk down the aisle, maybe have a little Hufflepuff or Slytherin of your own, maybe live happily ever after until you’re retired and can live your days out in the garden with Joel. Maybe this is exactly where you’re meant to be—hand in hand with your new best friend. Joel Miller. The Slytherin that stole your heart at the first glimmer of those big brown eyes. 

[mixedstyles]

Is it weird I kinda want a year where the driver championship is fought between Max and Valtteri? Like I want Valtteri to be number one driver in a competitive car so badly. Because he SLAYED in Mercedes. But he was the number two driver. I also just think it would be a very interesting dual 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Also did you know Valtteri, Lewis, and Max have the most podiums shared by the same trio (20)