#LOOK AT HIM!! OH MY GOD PLEASE LOOK AT THIS MAN!!

[ellecdc]

oh my god. I love your slytherin reader x marauders!!!! your writing is amazing!!!! could you do like a part three I guess? but like of later in their relationship and the reader has this little first year friend (who she is forced to tutor but she actually likes him but won't admit it) and he reminds her of the boys and the boy just like brings her flowers and chocolates and stuff and the boys see it and James gets all jealous and Sirius is just like "nah just watch mate" and expect the reader to get all annoyed but she doesn't she just doesn't say anything (because she secretly finds the boy sweet and doesn't wanna be mean to the tiny marauder like man) so then they are all in disbelief and pouty

sorry that was very long

hehe...hehehe.....this request is from March 14th 🫢 thank youuuuu for the prompt and sorry for the huge wait..... [also, let this perhaps let people know that I do have old requests saved!]

poly!marauders x fiesty!reader who has an admirer [1.2k words]

p1 // p2 // p3

CW: fem!reader, reader is feisty, Sirius is upset she's not feistier

“I’m not sure if you boys were aware,” Marlene drawled as she plopped herself onto an empty wingback chair in the Gryffindor common room, “but there’s some ickle little first year making moves on your girl.”

Her comment was met by a snort from James, a bark of laughter from Sirius, and an eye roll from Remus. 

“Thoughts and prayers to the first year, then.” James commented, never looking up from the rubik’s cube he was fiddling with as his back rested against Sirius’ folded legs. 

“I don’t know.” Marlene sing-songed. “He seems pretty sweet on her.” 

“Please.” Sirius scoffed. “Our darling girl is the least approachable person in Hogwarts, I hardly believe there’s a wix bold enough to solicit her, let alone a puny little first year.”

“He didn’t have to solicit her, she’s tutoring him.” 

“Honestly, Marls, I’ve never been less concerned about anything in my entire life.” James admitted.

“Could be interesting to watch, yeah?” Sirius offered with a mischievous wink, nudging James with his knee. 

Remus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, though he did close his book with a mischievous smirk. “Someone should be there to save him from our little viper.” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” Marlene laughed as she waved them off, not bothering to hide her devious grin. 

It didn’t take long for the boys to find you, seeing as you were haunting what you had early on in your schooling dubbed the ‘most superior table’ in the library. You’d told them what made it so, but James had been paying more attention to the way your lips were moving and less on the actual words that were leaving them. 

“Oh Merlin, the poor sod has no clue.” Sirius all but giggled as they crouched behind one of the aisles of books surrounding your table. 

“Not terrible.” They heard you say as you looked over his work, and based on the boy's beaming smile one would assume you’d given him high praise.  “But you’re getting ahead of yourself and not showing your work.”

“Does showing my work matter if the answers are right?” The kid asked, and James couldn’t blame the kid - he’d had many-a-conversations along the same lines over the years. 

You simply lifted his parchment and walloped him over the head for it. “Yes, showing your work matters; you will lose marks if you don’t.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to let you down.” The kid said solemnly, and James’ heart momentarily melted before he realised that was his darling angel that he was putting the moves on. 

He waited for you to groan and call him a rotten toerag, but you simply shook your head and instructed him to do the next question, making sure to show his work this time. 

“Get a load of this kid; she’s gotta be just about ready to hex him.” Sirius murmured. 

“I’m surprised she hasn’t, honestly.” James replied, causing Remus to snicker.

“The two of you have been hexed for less.”

The three were interrupted when the kid let out a theatrical gasp and dropped his quill. “I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He screeched before ripping open his book bag.

After far too long spent searching the inside of his bookbag, the kid withdrew a slightly crumpled rose, letting out a disappointed groan when he saw the state of it. “My astronomy textbook must’ve crushed it.”

“Why do you have a rose in your bag?” You deadpanned, and the kid was right back to beaming again.

“I brought it for you, of course. I picked the prettiest one for the prettiest girl.”

This was it, this was the moment they were here for; Sirius watched eagerly as Remus grimaced, each equally anxious for your no doubt cantankerous response. 

But it never came.

You simply let out a sound bordering a breath, a sigh, and a laugh as you gingerly took the wilted rose between two fingers. 

“Very thoughtful. Please get back to your homework.” Was all you offered him, but the kid seemed no less pleased as he picked up his quill and dutifully returned to his work. 

“What in the buggering fuck?” Sirius hissed, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Remus, but it was too late.

“Can I help you boys?” You drawled, though you never actually looked behind you where your three boyfriends were still hiding. 

“Yes, you can help me.” Sirius barked, storming out from behind the stacks followed closely by James and less closely by Remus who had the grace to look a little shamefaced for his spying. “You can help me understand what the hells all this is!”

“This is called tutoring and studying, Sirius, if you spent any time in a library, it might be more familiar to you.” You offered simply, turning a glare in Remus’ direction when he snorted. 

“Okay, swot, what I mean is why are you hear letting this little dugbog-”

“Sirius!” You chided quickly.

“Oh my gods! And you’re defending him!” Sirius continued shrilly, earning him various shushings from surrounding students. 

James couldn’t help but notice you roll your eyes in exasperation, but he also noticed the faintest hints of a smile dancing on your lips. 

“You’ve done well, Cameron; keep practising, and for the love of Merlin make sure you show your work next time or so help me gods…”

“Yes ma’am!” Cameron replied as he packed up his bag. “See you next week?”

“Just as we always have.” You drawled in a bored tone, though you offered him a smirk as he hustled out of the library. 

“I can’t believe you!” Sirius huffed as he took Cameron’s now vacated seat. 

“Angel…what is the meaning of all this?” James asked earnestly, causing Remus to snort as he had the decency to press a kiss to your hair in greeting. 

“If we’d have known you were meeting with new suitors, dove, we would have insisted on accompanying you to your tutoring sessions.”

“Oh please.” You dismissed. “He’s just a kid.”

“Uhm, and?” Sirius pouted.

“Sweetheart, we’ve seen you jinx a kid for sneezing too closely to you.” Remus reminded you, and your face darkened.

“Germ infested little freaks.”

“There’s our girl.” Sirius exclaimed. “I can’t believe you let him get away with any of that!” 

“He’s harmless.”

“He’s a flirt.” Sirius corrected.

“He’s you.” You shot back, and the three boys all looked at you with various levels of bemusement. 

“I beg your pardon?” James finally asked, and you shook your head as you began packing up your own bag. 

“He’s like a miniature version of the three of you; following me around and being abhorrently affectionate.”

“Well, hey, I think we’re, like, an appropriate amount of affectionate.” James tried. 

“No, it's sort of abhorrent sometimes.” Remus quickly agreed. 

“Babe…” Sirius cooed, causing Remus and James to grimace. “Are you going soft on us!?” 

Your eyes immediately darkened as you glowered at him, and if Sirius’ sudden flinch and the following yelp proved anything, you aimed a tame stinging jinx at him. 

“On the kid? Maybe.” You responded primly. “On the three of you? Jury’s still out.”

[the-palelady]

listen. if you don’t like sabrina carpenter that’s fine, but that woman’s outfits are so stunning and i can just imagine ghost going absolutely mad seeing you in them.

especially in something like THIS. that man would go absolutely fucking feral.

normally he would be ripping your cute little outfits and lingerie at the seams, but oh no, not this one. the baby blue just looked so perfect, hugging your curves in all the right places. he had to keep this outfit safe no matter the cost.

one night, you slip it on right before he comes home from work, and set yourself up all pretty for him. your hair fanning out across your face, skin glowing, an angel amongst a sea of blankets and pillows right there on top of his bed.

simon’s angel.

and oh he is on his knees for you.

he’d worship every last inch of your body. those perfect, round tits that he’d suck into his mouth eagerly. he’d kiss down the plump of your tummy, the dip of your hips, until he’s nestled in between your legs.

he’d kiss along your inner thighs, moving his thumb up to rub at your sensitive nub, your back arching up into him, whining out his name like the pretty little thing you were.

simon would take his time with you. always does. he doesn’t want to hurt his girl when he finally does settle himself in between your legs, his cock heavy and sliding against your folds. the lingerie is still on, panties tugged to the side around his thumb.

“all this for me?” he’d ask in that deep, loving voice, reserved only for you. strands of his golden hair, that have grown out a bit more than usual, stick to his forehead. a handsome grin is plastered along his scarred face, lust filled eyes gleam down at you and you’d whine.

god you loved him so much.

and he’d let you know he felt the same, wrapping his hands around the curve of your waist while he pressed himself into you. pressed himself into heaven.

“look at ya. so pretty.” you swear you hear him whine.

“takin’ me so well like a good girl.” this time you whine.

his thumb comes up to rub at your clit again while he pistons into you relentlessly. his tip hits that sweet spot so deep inside that you see stars and he backs off for a moment before hitting it over and over again.

your moans only encourage him further, his free hand roaming you like he can’t keep off of you, can’t get enough of you.

he grabs your jaw, your lips pursing from his grip. simon looks down at you with an expression so feral you could have orgasmed from that alone.

“gunna fill ya fulla me, sweet’art, that alright?”

you whine and beg for him.

yes. please, simon. inside, please.

“sing for me, angel. i wanna hear tha pretty voice.”

and you do sing for him. his name falling from your lips like a hymn, a gentle song only meant for his ears. simon can’t help but hold onto you tighter, gruff hands digging into the meat of your hips as you clench around him so tight he feels dizzy.

and he all but loses his damn mind, fucking you into the mattress despite how overstimulated you are. tears stain your pink cheeks and he thumbs them away, pressing into you so far you can feel him in your guts.

simon’s rambling, his forehead pressing into your temple as you cry out, your tears dampening his cheeks.

“ya look like a fucking goddess in this damn outfit. so beautiful. dunno wha tha fuck i did in my past life, but damned brute like me doesn’t deserve ya.”

he won’t stop talking. it’s all so much, yet the praise is sending you over the moon. your skin is on fire where his thrusts meet your ass, and you know there will be purple hand shaped bruises blooming along the expanse of your body when the morning comes.

“fuckkk,” his hips stutter slightly, your core becoming tight as he pulls himself completely out and slams himself right back to the hilt continuously.

“gunna breed this pretty pussy,” and you clench around him so fucking tight he almost collapses, a guttural moan escaping his chapped lips.

“ya like that, baby? want me to make ya a mummy?”

your back arches and you scream for him, white consuming your vision. simon’s hands grab ahold of your plump thighs and his hips roll down into you one last time. he twitches inside of your warmth while his spend coats your velvety walls. his arms reach up to wrap around your torso that’s still arched, his forehead pressing into your ribs as he catches his breath.

you both sit this way for a while, until he regains his composure and lowers your tired body back down to the bed.

when he sits up right your eyes are closed, long lashes tickling the apples of your blushing cheeks. your breathing is even now, and your skin is somehow glowing even more than it was when he first walked in. your hair cascades out around you like a wave. his palm hesitantly glides up along your tummy as if taboo. as if someone like him was undeserving of someone as soft as you.

and simon swears when he looks up at you, taking you in completely, he sees the glow of a halo above your head and a pair of angel wings nestled against the silk sheets of the bed beneath you.

[gibson-g1rl]

𐙚 POV: you’re jensen ackles’ controversially younger gf ⭐️

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jensenackles

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jensenackles A little taste of the weekend. 🙏🫶🏼

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jensenackles

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jensenackles A few summer pics. Hope everyone is having a great one. Happy 4th yall.

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jensenackles @/yourusername 😂

dean_lover @/jensenackles his reply lmaoo 😭 old man

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pearlzier KISSING BOOTH?? SIGN ME TF UP

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blue-d yall looking for a third?

wi4hfulth1nking @/blue-d PLEASE 😭

dean_lover need him BIBLICALLY

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𐙚 thank you for reading ⭐️

𐙚 i had a lot of fun making this lol 🤭

𐙚 tags: @pearlzier @blue-d @wi4hfulth1nking

𐙚 reblogs are greatly appreciated ⭐️

𐙚 creds to @strangergraphics for the divider!

[loserlvrss]

𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐈 ( 최산 )

pairing : choi san x fem!reader genre : drabble, [ MDNI 18+ ] smut, established relationship warnings : unprotected sex, petnames, exibitionism, language word count : 0.9k authors note : the lipstick just felt right idk

a soft sigh left your boyfriend’s mouth, and you pressed another kiss to his shoulder—right above his collarbone. his hands gripped your bare thighs, possessive finger prints sure to be left when the deed was done. his head was thrown back, adam’s apple bobbing with every gulp.

your head leveled, admiring the stains your lipstick made against his sculpted upper body. he was beautiful, but san swore he’d never seen something more ethereal than you above him. he’d be happy dying right now, inside you. which was arguably his favorite place to be.

“fuck, baby.” you whimpered, clawing at his abdomen as you lifted and dropped your hips in a steady rhythm, “we’re shaking the car so much.” a breathy laugh cascaded from his open mouth. “leaving nothing to the imagination.”

“let them watch, then.” he smirked, your insides clenching just a bit harder at the sight—and thought. “i’m the one fucking you, aren’t i?”

you felt a sense of relief at the thought. yeah, he was. no one knew you better. ruined from the inside out by the most perfect man you’ve ever called yours.

but it was still midday, the sunshine glistening over both your skin. the windows were fogged up—clichely—the humidity making a drop of sweat roll down your sternum. san fought the urge to lean in and lick between your boobs, watching through hooded eyes.

“actually,” you braced yourself, speeding up just a little bit. a hearty moan left his throat, as you gulped your noises down. you pouted, “i’m doing all the work.”

“are you?” he asked, a sudden sense of competitiveness mixing with the lust in the air, “i know you can’t cum like this, angel.”

“fuck o—“ you rolled your eyes as his hands grabbed your ass, assisting your fleeting attempts to keep you both satisfied. “g-god.” he lifted you just enough to still be shoved deep inside you, thrusting up into the spot that kept your vision blurry.

your cherry-red nails wracked over the lipstick marks, smudging them. you were a mess, metaphorically and not, and it coated him in love. he’d never been graced with someone as beautiful as you. never someone so innocent looking, but so goddamn devilish. you had him wrapped around your fingers with the webs you spun, but there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

he would live and die with you, that was for certain.

you bit your lip, trying your best to be quiet—because after all, you were in a public park. yes, your windows were tinted, but by how much the car was moving, it wouldn’t be hard to plainly see what was happening on the leather seats.

his fingers gripped your jaw, leaving your lower half for a moment. then, his thumb ran over your bottom lip, dragging the color across them and to your cheek.

it was hot. everything was hot; the sun shining through the windows, the early september, your boyfriend's intoxicating gaze and ways. the way he felt inside you and as his hands roamed your skin. he was hot. borderline burning.

you were out of breath, using whatever was left in you to tell him how close you were to coming undone.

“yeah?” he asked, humming as he leaned up to capture your smudged lips in a kiss that somehow left you even more breathless. you panted against his mouth, and he smirked so devilishly well that your stomach twisted impossibly tighter. “i told you baby, we both know what you need.” he was right. he knew you so well. every little thing that got you going, and made you stop was his to read and memorize.

“s-san—oh my god.” you spewed out between moans (that you didn’t even care about anymore). “fuc-fuck, baby, please don’t stop.”

“i wasn’t planning on it, princess. this was just the warm up.” if you were half a mind you would’ve laughed, however you were on the brink of the most earth shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt brewing. and he knew that, only adding fuel to the fire. “go ahead and cum so we can get home, fuck this date, baby, i need you seven ways to sunday, right now.”

you came, hard, and then so did san, stilling you both as it got overwhelming. you pecked his skin to ground yourself, leaving behind traces of red that were barely noticeable now that your lipstick was everywhere but your lips. his chest rose and fell with an unsteady rhythm, keeping lodged inside of you—because that’s how you both liked it.

enough time went by that the windows were beginning to become see through again, and you huffed, the reality sinking in. his head leveled from being thrown back—just letting you nip at his skin—giving you a confused look.

you pushed off his chest, staring down at him. “it’s hot.” you admired your art, getting a little worked up at the thought of another person seeing the stains you’d left, “and you’re a mess.”

but, you wouldn’t let that happen.

“yeah, it is.” he used the back of his arm to swipe his lips, not really doing much to clean them. “and you’re not much better yourself, angel.”

but, somehow you’d gotten here, disregarding the small sandwiches you’d made earlier and the diet pepsi that was going flat as it warmed in the trunk; prepared (almost 30 minutes ago) for a cute picnic date with your man. but… you guess, you’ve never actually felt fuller now.

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 all rights reserved. 

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back to masterlist !

[kingdomvel]

Steddie | 2.3k | first part

“Okay, what was that?” Gareth asks the moment they are inside the room they are using as a dressing room for tonight.

“What was what,” Eddie answers.

“You know damn well what I mean.”

Eddie doesn’t answer, putting his best poker face on.

“That weird mating ritual you have been performing with the boy in the front row the whole night, maybe?” Jeff adds.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Eddie says, his voice flat as he tries to avoid the other’s gazes. He takes a towel to dab at his forehead.

“Come on, man,” Freak butts in, “you told him to stay after the concert, you have told Chrissy to get them here. We said we were not going to be that kind of band, that we were going to be like My Chemical Romance: no groupies and after concert dnd sessions.”

“Yeah, if you go with that guy what happens to our dnd session.”

“We can play dnd any other day, okay?” Eddie snaps, his hands stretched in front of him. A part of him thinks he looks like that meme of Chris Pratt in front of the dinosaurs, the other part of him detests that he thought of him. “I will make it up to you.”

“Who are you and what have you done to our DM?” Freak asks, his voice serious.

“Yeah, what is this talk about postponing dnd for some boy?” Gareth adds, there is something in his tone Eddie doesn’t like.

“Some boy? Some boy? Am I the only one with eyes in this fucking band? He is the hottest person that has laid eyes on me and I’m not letting you fuckers take that opportunity from me for one session of dnd or I swear to God I am killing every one of your characters.”

The boys don’t answer, they look at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Wow” a voice says from behind Eddie.

He doesn’t recognize the voice but the expressions on the rest of the band in front of him make him freeze. They go from slightly annoyed to wary and to bemused. Mainly a mix of all at the same time.

The sounds of steps approaching them break the silence that had fallen in the room, before a voice finishes breaking it.

“How does dnd work with you nerds anyway, are you all bards or what?”

The boys drop their mouths open. Eddie still doesn’t recognize the voice, but there is only one person it can belong to. He sounds just as good as he had imagined. Eddie is honestly afraid of turning around after what the boy- Steve- has surely heard.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” a woman’s voice says. There’s the sound of a hit and a quiet ‘ow’ from Steve under it. “He is just trying to sound all confident after whining-“

“Robin.”

“Telling me to not get my hopes up because he probably wasn’t anyone important and you just did this every concert-“

“Robin.”

“But of course he is the luckiest bitch in this planet and has his instant crush reciprocated and-“

“Enough!”

There are some muffled noises that Eddie can only guess are the girl trying to continue speaking. He wishes she wouldn’t stop. His knight in shining armour may be embarrassed, but the rant has put a smile on Eddie’s face, has given him confidence again. He crosses his legs and turns around slowly, his hands coming up beside him.

“By all means, let her continue.”

The adonis, the hottest man that has laid eyes on him, his knight in shining armour, Steve takes his hand away from the girl’s mouth and rubs it on his jeans. Eddie can only guess the girl has licked it. God he wants to be her so bad right now.

“Hey,” Steve says, his hand coming up for a small wave. “Sorry about Robin.”

“No need for that. I’m Eddie.”

“I know,” Steve answers with a cocky smile as he crosses his arms.

“Oh and now you are acting all full of yourself as if you didn’t ask for the name of the band like 20 times 2 hours ago.” Robin says.

“Will you please just shut the fuck up?” Steve asks with the confidence only a best friend can have.  

“Not a fan then?” Eddie asks amused.

“Not really my scene,” Steve answers. There is a scoff behind Eddie, and if he wasn’t so lost in Steve’s brown eyes, he may have moved to swat whoever it was. “But I sure am a fan now.”

There is now a groan behind Eddie, but he can only focus on the way his heart jumps at the words, the way Steve’s mouth lifts in one side in a smirk, how his eyes spark.  

“I can get you front row tickets to all the gigs, baby.”

There’s a gagging noise being Eddie, and this time he does turn around to swat at Gareth. The little shit just laughs at him.

When he turns back towards Steve he is looking between them with a smile on his lips and he looks- damn- he’s been looking beautiful since he saw him at the beginning of the concert that night, but now his hair is a mess from the almost two hours of sweating and moving around and Eddie’s on stage confidence is slowly being replaced by his fast beating heart.

“Look man I-“ Steve starts, “I don’t want to be a problem,” he adds, glancing behind Eddie as he bites his lip. The girl next to him- Robin- turns to him with an incredulous look on her eyes that Eddie is sure mirrors his own. “But you are hot, I want to take you on a date, and the others wanted to meet you.”

Robin rolls her eyes and looks at Eddie with an eyebrow up.

“The others?” Eddie manages to say, just before he remembers the teenagers around Steve all night.

“Yeah, they are with Chrissy, I asked them to give us five minutes before coming.”

Eddie is about to say something, maybe ask about the date Steve mentioned, but in a second the door is filled with said teenagers, the one with the curly hair in the middle of it.

“YOU GUYS ARE LEGENDS!” he exclaims. It makes Eddie less annoyed about being interrupted. No one has really called them legends before, they have just surpassed 150k listeners in Spotify.

It feels good hearing it.

The dressing room fills with chatter fast, the boys and the teenagers getting along without problem. They take photos, talk about music, about their instruments, about their dnd tradition. The bad part of it all is that Eddie gets separated from Steve. He catches his eye at some point and Steve sends a little wave his way that he answers. He is talking with Robin and Chrissy and, by what Eddie can hear, Chrissy is getting every video Robin has managed to get of Eddie’s and Steve’s interactions through the concert, even a closer video of the kiss than the one Chrissy managed to get. From what he can hear, she wants to post everything on their social media before ‘someone else does and steals the chance at going viral from them’.

Eddie doesn’t know how he feels about posting Steve like that, Eddie should have probably thought, about that before making out with the guy in front of all their audience. But he seems completely comfortable with all of it. Eddie guesses that comes with being as hot as Steve is and knowing it.

It’s some time later, enough that Eddie knows they won’t be able to stay much longer in the venue, that he finally has a chance to slip away. It’s perfect, he has just seen Steve leave the dressing room, probably in search of the toilet, and Gareth and the curly hair boy he has learned is called Dustin are so deep in conversation they don’t notice him stepping away from them and leaving too.

He catches Steve just as he is leaving the toilet. Eddie doesn’t stop to answer Steve’s surprised ‘oh, hey’ that turns into a more surprised ‘woah’ as Eddie pushes him back into the toilet and closes the door behind him.

“Hey” Eddie finally greets. Steve only looks at the closed door behind Eddie and then at him again with what Eddie hopes is amusement. God, he really hopes it’s amusement, he is just not realising how creepy this looks. “So, about that date.”

“Couldn’t wait until I came back?”

“No. I mean, yes.” Why is it so difficult to talk with a pretty boy? Eddie takes a deep breath, composes himself. Theatrics, he is good with those, they make him confident. “I was suffering, being deprived from your company by your companions, and didn’t have another option.”

Steve squints his eyes, “so you decided to have the date in the toilet?”

“What? No.”

Steve takes a step closer to Eddie so now their chests are almost touching. It hadn’t downed on Eddie before how they are almost the same height. It feels very important now when he has Steve’s face right in front of him, when he can look directly at his eyes, at how they drift down to Eddie’s lips. When his inevitably drift to Steve’s lips, the boy is biting his lower lip. “Eager.”

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, he may have miscalculated this. There’s something he wanted to say. “No, I-“

Steve chuckles, takes a step back. “Relax dude. I know you haven’t really agreed to the date yet, we got interrupted and all that.” Eddie is about to speak, to agree a thousand times to the date, but Steve keeps talking. “You just offered to buy me a couple of drinks and called me hot,” he smiles when he says that.

“I want the date.” Eddie says before Steve can keep talking, “as soon as possible.”

Steve steps back closer. “Eager.”

“We are leaving on tour, won’t be back for three months.” Eddie explains before all his brain functions completely shut down.

“I can wait three months.”

“I can’t.”

The next second Steve’s lips are on his, his hands are on his hair, and it only takes a second for Eddie’s to do the same. Steve is even a better kisser than he was in front of the audience. Steve pushes him against the door, brings a hand to his hip, pushes one of his legs between Eddie’s. Eddie just groans and lets himself be pushed and moved. Kissed. “Fuck,” he whispers when Steve pulls away for breath. Steve smiles, takes one of Eddie’s hands in his, and kisses him again. It’s so sweet and filthy at the same time Eddie might cry, but he just moves his hips forward, and Steve answers in kind, grinding against him and getting a groan out of both of them. Maybe the rockstars that hook up with people after concerts are onto something. Though Eddie doubts he would want to do this with someone that is not Steve.

A knock on the door startles them both, Robin’s voice coming from the other side.

“Steve?” Steve and Eddie stop kissing to look at each other in silence, their eyes wide. “Chrissy said we need to leave already and you’ve been in there so long I started to worry you were kidnapped. Wait, you are in there, right? Also, have you seen Eddie? He disappeared.” Steve moves, an innocent thing that has his groin brushing against Eddie’s. And he is only a man. He moans. “WAIT! Are you both in there? GROSS.”

Steve snorts, making Eddie smile. They can hear a couple of steps moving away from the door before they come back and there is a bang on the door.

“Steve! Come out you dingus, have you forgotten about your pack of kids?”

Steve lets out a whispered ‘fuck’ before he looks at Eddie with an apology in his eyes. Eddie lets himself be moved away from the door so Steve can open it to talk to his friend outside.

“Hey.”

Eddie opens the door more so he can also fit in the gap, Steve sends him a look, smiles at his appearance, and then looks at Robin again.

“Hey” Eddie greets too. Robin is looking at them and there is no hiding what they have been doing. She can surely see their bruised lips, their wild hair. Eddie just prays she doesn’t look down and sees the bulge in his pants.

“You two are gross, was making me see that once tonight not enough?”

“You have not really seen it this time,” Steve points.

“Still.”

“You are the one that came to interrupt.”

“And for a good reason! Your kids.”

“What about the kids,” Eddie asks.

“He promised to take them home.” Robin says.

“I promised to take them home.” Steve says at the same time, a resigned tone in his voice. He turns to Eddie, his brown eyes sad, and pinches his nose.

“Can’t she take them home?” Eddie points to Robin, and they both turn towards her again.

Robin takes a breath, stops, looks at them, looks at them, sees the tent in Eddie’s pants. Grimaces.

“FINE,” she agrees, and Eddie grins. “But you owe me. Big time.” She adds pointing at Steve.

“I’ll give you ice cream for life.” Steve says. It must be an inside joke because it makes Robin roll her eyes.

“Give me your car keys at least. Rockstar here can drive you home, can’t he?”

“I’ll have him home before eleven.” Eddie swears with a hand on his chest. The other two stare at him in silence. “A.m.” he adds.

“You heard him.” Steve says while handing Robin his keys.

“Okay,” Robin answers. She takes a step back. “Have fun.” She takes a couple of steps away before she turns around. “Use protection, he is a rockstar, we don’t know where his thing has been.”

“Hey,” Eddie protests, but Robin is already running away.

“She is kinda right.” Steve says with a shrug. Eddie purses his lips. “But I have an idea on where it can be in the near future.”

“Lead the way.”

Steve slips his hand into Eddie’s.

[space-cowgirllll]

Die With A Smile

Outbreak Day with ex-girlfriend Abby?

a/n: idk what lady gaga and bruno put in this song fr. I should have been studying for an Ochem exam but here we are lol.

"Government officials met today to discuss the recent spikes in hospitalizations all across the globe over the past week, with talks of setting up government run quarantine zones in all major cities." 

You perk up from your spot on the couch, trading the carton of ice cream in your hands for the TV remote. The local newswoman's voice fills the quiet space as the volume increases. You immediately recognize the hospital in the background. 

"Hospital staff everywhere are overwhelmed with the influx of patients coming in with symptoms of this mysterious virus. For the time being it is highly recommended that any travel plans be postponed. International flights have started being cancelled, leaving hundred of people stranded. The CDC advises everyone to remain calm  and continue to follow your city's imposed emergency curfews as they work towards finding the cause." 

The face-mask you'd slathered on earlier hardens as she lists off the symptoms to look out for: sudden mood changes, muscle spasms, and slurred speech. You can't wrap your mind around a simple virus causing all this. Your stomach sinks in realization, this is definitely more serious than anybody was letting on. 

Without even thinking you reach for your phone, quickly scrolling through your contact list until you land on the one person you've been avoiding. Abby, your ex girlfriend of six months. Your finger hovers over her number, wondering if this was worth breaking three months of no contact when loud screams come from the television. You look up just in time to see the blast of an explosion before the screen goes blank. Static stares back you. 

Your finger mashes down on the touchscreen with zero hesitation as you run to the sink, hands desperately scrubbing at your face while you wait for her to answer. You don't even stop to consider you might be blocked. 

Please pick up, please pick up, please.

"Hello?" Abby's panicked voice sounds through the phone. 

"Oh my god Abs. Are you okay?" You ramble. "I just saw the news and I- there was an explosion."

"I had to home to change. " Her voice is shaky, turn signal clicks faintly in the background. "I was still close enough to- OH MY GOD!" The sound of tires screeching drown out Abby's curses. A loud boom sounds off outside, this one feels closer. "I'm....to...you" Is the last thing you hear before the line goes dead.

You throw the phone across the room, a string of curses leaving your mouth. The open window of your living room lets you hear the chaos outside before you can see it. Helicopters fly overhead and sirens sound off in the near distance. One by one, porch lights come on as your neighbors step out of their homes, confusion etched on their faces.

The sound of a door slamming open catches everyone's attention. Out of the corner of your eye you see the outlines of two people moving towards the road. Your neighbor, Claire, yells as her husband chases after her. His movements far too quick and erratic for someone his age. 

Everyone watches in shock as he catches up to her, mouth attacking the side of her neck, effectively silencing her screams. The sight is gory. You stand frozen as some of the braver ones try to help, only to be met with a similar fate before he runs off into the middle of the road, searching for his next victim. Chaos quickly ensues, people run off back to their homes, garages pop open as some try to make a quick escape. You stagger back, knocking into the side table beside the couch. A picture frame falls over, shattering loudly on wood floor.

To your absolute horror, his head snaps to your window. For the first time, you're able to catch a glimpse of him up close. Gone was the sweet old man who would help you with yard work in those first few months after Abby moved out. The skin of his face is molted, almost as if something was eating away at it. Once sparkling blue eyes are completely glazed over. The bloodthirsty look on his face sends you reeling. 

His mouth parts open letting out a loud screech, ready to lunge through the thin window screen when a familiar black truck slams into him. Abby hops out, mouth moving quickly as she shouts something at you. Between the ringing in your ears and the loud screams outside you don't register what she says. Your eyes blink rapidly, hoping the sight of your elderly neighbor under her front tire is just your imagination. In your peripheral you see the front door swing open, Abby's keychain hanging from the lock. 

Strong hands grip you by the shoulders, shaking you out of your stupor. "Baby what are you doing? We have to go!"

Her woodsy scent envelopes you as she scoops you up and carries you out bridal style before tossing you in the passenger seat. Fingers clench into the leather as the truck reverses, disturbing the once perfect lawn. Your flowerbeds and mailbox becoming casualties in the process too. 

You peel your eyes off the dash, looking out the window as she flies through residential neighborhoods. More and more people are starting to trickle out from the safety of their homes. Some running with only the clothes on their backs, others quickly shoving personal belongings in their vehicles. 

Your voice is shaky when you finally speak up. "What's going on Abigail?"

She exhales heavily, looking exhausted. "I don't know."

"Are they all like that?" 

Her jaw clenches. "The ones I've been treating are in the early stages of their symptoms, but beds are full. We've been told to turn people away to recover at home." She huffs. "I don't even wanna know how many of them are out there running around like that."

You hesitantly rub her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, slowly pulling back when she tenses. Her throat clears and the skin of her knuckles turns white as she tightens her grip on the wheel. 

"So what are we doing?"

You're shocked when she shrugs her shoulders. Abby always had a plan. You wrack your brain, trying to think of something. 

"My parent's cabin up north! We could go there." You suggest. "Y'know until everything settles down."

She makes a sharp right, following the signs pointing her to the nearest on ramp. Her fist slams against the wheel when you pull up to the main highway just five minutes later. It seems like everyone had the same idea. Cars are honking, people are screaming. Nobody is moving. The thought of sitting in bumper to bumper traffic right now doesn't sound like a smart idea.

"My apartment's in the city." Abby suddenly states. "They were setting up barricades when I left for work this morning. Flyers talking about a quarantine zone." 

She doesn't wait for your approval, sending the truck speeding towards her place. The closer you get to the city, the more erratic Abby's driving becomes. It's clear your little suburban bubble was late to the news of the outbreak. Downtown Seattle is absolute madness. Everywhere you look there's something happening. Those infected chase people up and down the streets, tackling the ones too slow to outrun them. Shops that you can remember being there your whole life are now ablaze. 

You grip onto the handle above your head watching wide eyed as Abby plows through debris in the street. Bile rises in your throat when you realize she most likely driving over the dead bodies left behind. 

The truck slows to a crawl. Concrete barricades were placed closer together here, making it impossible to get through. She silently curses at the fact that you're gonna have to leave the safety of the car and make the rest of the journey on foot. She grabs your face between her hand, forcing you to look her in the eye.

"Get ready to run baby." 

Your hand is on the handle when something crashes into your door. A scream gets caught in your throat as the infected bangs on the glass of your window before setting it's sights on the blonde. She's halfway out of the truck when she gets tackled to the ground. Her hands shoot out using all her strength to keep it from attacking her 

"Abby!"

She screams at you to run. Her arms are getting tired of holding this ridiculously strong freak back. Her hold is quickly slipping. Accepting her fate she screws her eyes shut bracing for the inevitable. A loud whack and she doesn't realize there's no longer any weight holding her down until your panicked voice is in her ear. 

"Holy fuck! Are you okay?"

You crouch beside her, a bloody metal pipe in your hands. Keeping a watchful eye on the body laying just inches from hers. She slaps your hand away, wincing when she gets up on her own. 

"Why would you do that?!" She whisper yells, unsure whether to kiss you for saving her or punching you for putting yourself in danger. "I told you to run!"

"I could never just leave you like that. You're welcome." You say through labored breaths. With a roll of her eyes she grabs your hand, sprinting in the direction of her building. 

You're thankful it's a short run from the car to her place. The two of you able to successfully hide from any other infected. It doesn't take long for either of you to realize that their vision sucks. 

The stairs up to her place are a feat of its own. You huff and puff up to the nineteenth floor, legs on fire when you finally walk through the door. 

Her apartment is spotless, because of course it is. Floor to ceiling windows give you a clear view of what seems to be the end of the world. 

"Oh my god." You stand in the middle of her room, watching in horror as explosions go off in my the distance. The ground beneath you shakes as they get closer and closer. 

Abby shakes her head in disbelief clearly putting two and two together. 

"It's so heavily populated here. They don't see the point in trying to separate the healthy from the infected." She whispers. Tears well in her eyes watching a plane purposefully fly into the ground off in the distance. The large blast setting fire to everything around it. There are more right behind it. "We're so fucked."

You watch as the fight leave her body. Your throat locks up, unable to scream at her. Wobbly legs pace back and forth in the small space trying to think of something that might work. Deep down you know it's pointless. There's no way you'd make it out of the city alive. Soft sobs wrack your body at the realization that this really is the end. 

Her shoulders slump as she sits on the bed. She gnaws on her lower lip to keep from crying too loud. "Can I hold you?" 

You nod, legs feeling like jelly. Abby reaches for you, pulling you up towards the headboard. The two of you lay beside each other breathing heavily with your hands intertwined. Tears stream down her face and onto the pillow under her head. 

She reaches over and kisses you, her shaking hand plays with the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. "My biggest regret was letting you go."

You watch face as she continues talking, lips moving against yours. "I had to stop myself from driving past the house every single day." She laughs. "Would have sat outside your door until you took me back."

"I wish you would have." You admit through a watery smile. 

"I never stopped loving you. I just want you to know that." She whispers, lips moving to kiss your temple. 

"I should have never left." Your lips meet the skin of neck tasting the salty tears that have pooled there. "I love you too Abby. So much it hurts." 

"I can't believe this is what it took for us to realize how stupid we were." She mumbles into your hair. Your face burrows into the crook of her neck. "I'm so sorry baby."

"I'm glad you came for me." You tell her, but you know she doesn't hear it. 

The walls start shaking, sending everything tumbling to the floor. You're no longer able to hear anything over the sound of a loud engine approaching. Her arms tighten around you, the two of you curl into each other. 

There's a jarring beeping in your ear just as it all goes black. 

You shoot up in bed, heart in your throat. The sound of your heavy breathing almost drowns out the harsh beeping of your alarm. Reaching over you rip the cord from the wall sitting in silence for a moment while your heartbeat returns to normal. 

The sun is shining outside, laughter from the kids across the street flows in through the small opening of your window. A lawnmower goes off in the distance.

Shaking hands fist the cool cotton of your sheets. The soft material grounding you. You look around the small room. Everything looks just as you left it. There's an empty bottle of wine on the dresser and you roll your  eyes at yourself. 

That explains it. 

You're okay. 

It was all a dream.

You jump out of bed, rushing to the bathroom before taking the stairs two at a time almost snapping an ankle. The entryway table shakes when you snatch the keys from on top of it. The warm August breeze that hits you when you walk outside makes you feel renewed. 

The quiet neighborhood looks as it always does. A couple of people are out watering their lawns while some head out for church. Claire sits on her front porch drinking a cup of coffee, giving you a little wave when she spots you pulling out of your driveway and it's a miracle you don't burst into tears. Using muscle memory you quickly punch in the number you know by heart, waiting with bated breath for an answer.  "Hello?"Your shoulders drop in relief at the sound of her voice. She's okay.

"Where are you?"

"At home," she pauses "why?"

"Perfect." You hang up before she can reply. Tossing the phone on the passenger seat you press your foot down on the gas. 

You make it to Abby's apartment building in record time, parking haphazardly by the curb. There's a ninety nine percent chance you'll come back to a parking ticket stuck to your windshield but you don't care. 

There's a moment on the elevator ride up to the nineteenth floor where you second guess yourself. Aware of how ridiculous you look in mix matched pajamas going to try and win your ex girlfriend back. You steel your nerves reminding yourself of how horrible those last few seconds of your nightmare were.  If she kicks you out you can at least say you tried. 

Abby answers the door looking mouth watering in a black tank top and gray shorts, her messy hair pulled back in a low bun. "Alright, how many traffic laws did you break on your way over here?"

"You don't wanna know." You pant, throwing yourself into her arms. 

She catches you with a soft grunt, hesitating for a second before wrapping her arms around you. The familiar scent of pine engulfs you.  

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?" Her teasing tone makes your face heat up. "I don't think random house visits on a Sunday at 8 AM fall under no contact." She quips. 

"I love you!" The words are out before you can stop yourself. "I love you and I don't want to go another day without letting you know that walking away from you was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I regret it every single day."

Abby leans back against the door with her hands still on your hips. There's a tiny grin on her face watching you spill your guts, you’re too worked up to notice. "I know we're both at the peak of our careers. I know we're busy, and there will be days we don't even get to see each other, but I'm tired of living like this. I miss you." 

You sniffle pathetically into her chest. "The world could end tomorrow and I don't want to regret never telling you how I felt." Thumbs wipe gently at your tears. "And if you don't feel the same way I underst- mmph!"

Her lips meet yours in a soft kiss, hands wandering under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your back. Neither of you make a move to deepen it, content to take it slow.

Abby pulls back first. Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she stares down at you. It suddenly hits you how much you've missed her. She brings her forehead to rest against yours. 

"Took you long enough baby."

[thewolvesofthenorth]

Chapter Two

Chapter Two of Man of Honor

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2k+ 

Summary: Cregan finally manages to speak to you, but it doesn’t go the way he thought it would.

Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn, pining

⟸ Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter ⟹

Much to Cregan’s chagrin, you were still skillfully avoiding him, but he had managed to convince Sara to aid him on his endeavor to get you to speak, or even just acknowledge him. Sara had of course rebuffed him at first, but after several days of his nagging, she gave in. She told him that the only place where you would surely be alone was the godswood, and that she would inform him the next time you were there, but the rest was up to him after that.

Cregan expressed his gratitude and the wait began. Two days passed before Sara informed Cregan that you were making your way to the godswood, and his throat grew tight with anxiety.

What am I even going to say?

He waited a while before making his way to the godswood, careful to avoid catching anyone’s attention lest he be pulled into other matters. He needed to patch things up with you as best as he could. The snow quietly crunched beneath his feet as he walked through the godswood, an eerie silence filling the air as he neared the heart tree. As he grew closer, he could make out your silhouette sitting on a rock at the foot of the heart tree, head bowed in silent prayer. As he took a step forward, a twig snapped, and he winced as the sound echoed through the trees.

Cregan’s breath caught in his throat as you whipped your head around at the noise and met his eye. Despite the day already beginning to grow dark, he could see how beautiful you looked. You sat frozen, heart pounding in your chest at the sight of him standing there, staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. After a moment, you stood, silently dusting the snow off your cloak, and acted as if he wasn’t mere feet away. Realizing what you were about to do, Cregan closed the distance between you with a few short strides, catching your arm as you turned to walk away.

“Wait,” he managed to choke out. “Please.”

You turned and narrowed your eyes at him as you freed your arm from his grasp.

“What do you want?” You spat; voice laced with venom as you addressed him for the first time in months. Cregan cringed at your tone, having never been on the receiving end of your anger, and the usually composed and strong man suddenly felt like a child. He took a deep breath to steady his thoughts, silently praying to the old gods for strength.

“I - I wanted to apologize,” he began. “I’ve been horrible to you as of late.” You scoffed at his words.

“Oh, you’ve realized that now, have you?” You shot back, crossing your arms with a glare. “What? Did you fall off your horse?” Cregan looked at you in confusion.

“Did you hit your head? Have a little too much ale or something? Because why else would you suddenly remember that I existed?” He flinched at your response, not knowing how to reply.

Seven hells, this is off to a great start.

“No -,” he started.

“No? So, what is it then? Why are you here?”

“I’m trying to say that I’m sorry,” he answered, head bowing with remorse. Cregan felt so small in your presence, with your wrath directed at him, that he wanted to curl into a ball and hide from your fury.

“You’re sorry?” You retorted. “After months of ignoring me, all you have to say is ‘sorry’?”

“You’ve also been avoiding me!” He replied. “You’ve come up with an excuse at every turn just to keep your distance, and you never told me why.”

“Oh, so it’s all my fault now, is it?” You sneered, your anger rising with each passing moment.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Well, it certainly sounds like it. Do you even know why? Why I avoid being near you?”

Cregan opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“I avoid being near you because I couldn’t stand to look at you. I couldn’t stand to be in your presence, listening to you talk about Arra and how great she is. How perfect she is. How I could never compare to her.”

“I’m -.”

“And that’s not even the half of it,” you continued, ignoring his attempt to speak. “You can’t possibly imagine how it feels to be replaced. To have your best friend ignore you and spend his time with someone else, doing things that you used to do together, and then come back and talk about how great of a time he had. Do you even remember? Do you remember the words you spoke to me right here where we presently stand?”

“Yes,” he managed to say, “I remember.”

“What were the words then? What was it that you said?”

“I told you that we’d marry, and I’d make you the Lady of Winterfell.”

“You promised. You swore it,” you said softly. “You swore it by the old gods and the new.”

“I know.”

“And yet you betroth yourself to Arra.”

“I - I know that I’ve wronged you, but it was never my intention.”

“Oh? What was your intention then?”

“I - you - it,” Cregan stumbled over his words as you looked at him in rage. “It’s what’s best for the North. It’s my duty.”

“What’s best for the North? Your duty?” You snapped, hands now shaking with rage. “Is that your excuse?”

“No, but -,”

“You are an arrogant fool,” you seethed. “You think yourself so honorable, but you are far from it. You are a disgrace to your house and bring shame to the Stark name. You swear an oath, but then proceed to break it. You are nothing but a coward and don’t deserve to be a Stark.”

“We - we were children,” he defended, and the moment the words left his lips he knew he’d made a grave mistake.

Fuck!

“We were children,” you slowly repeated. “We. Were. Children…. So that’s it? It was just a game to you then.”

“No - it,” Cregan tried to backtrack, but you held your hand up to stop him.

“I’ve heard enough,” you said, and you straightened your back and looked him in the eye. “It may have been nothing but a game to you, but it wasn’t a game to me, Cregan Stark.” With that, you pushed past him and marched out of the godswood, not sparing the dejected man another glance.

Once you were out of sight, Cregan’s knees buckled, and he fell to the ground despair. He let out a growl as he hit the snow in frustration. He should have told you how he felt, told you how he had been blind to his own feelings. But instead, he’d completely mucked things up and made the rift between the two of you even bigger. 

You were right, he was nothing but a coward.

But he also had a duty to uphold.

A duty to the North.

A duty to his people.

And duty is sacrifice.

Tears silently streamed down your face as you solemnly walked to the Great Keep, skillfully keeping yourself hidden in the shadows and away from prying eyes. The cold unforgivingly nipped at your wet cheeks, making your tears feel like ice against your skin, but you paid it no mind, too distraught from Cregan’s words to feel the frosty bite of the North. You were angry that he had managed to corner you in the godswood. You were angry at him for breaking your heart more than he already had. But mostly, you were angry at yourself for hoping that he would say something different than what he had.

How could I have been so stupid?

So blind?

Your mind raced with so many thoughts as you finally arrived at your chambers and sat on your bed. You slid off your shoes and stripped off your cloak before lying down and staring at the ceiling. You weren’t sure what to do anymore. On one hand, you wanted to leave Winterfell so you wouldn’t have to see Cregan anymore. On the other, you wanted to stay because you loved him and couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again. Your heart ached at both options because no matter what, you’d still be losing and knew you wouldn’t be happy no matter which choice you made.

If only I could turn back time and she never came to Winterfell.

Maybe even farther back so Cregan never made his promise.

Your heart clenched as you remembered his words, the phrase tauntingly echoing in your ears.

We were children.

We were children.

We were children.

He had said those words so easily, as if he’d practiced saying it. As if it was acceptable to make such promises as children and they weren’t to be taken seriously.

Oaths of marriage shouldn’t be taken lightly, but I guess they don’t matter if we made it when we were children.

I really thought it meant something to him.

You let out a huff as you sat up, running a hand through your hair. You needed to move on. You needed to do something other than pine for someone who clearly didn’t care about your feelings. Who would rather break his word and toss you aside as if you had not been by his side your whole lives. As if you hadn’t made sacrifices of your own.

You had turned down numerous suitors over the years because of your feelings for Cregan and hopes of marrying him, but now you knew that you should have done what was best for you. If Cregan had really meant his words that day in the godswood, he would have told his advisors and made it known. Instead, he kept it a secret and put it out of his mind because you were both children and he thought of it as another one of your childish antics.

He never had the intention of actually marrying me.

He was just a stupid boy making stupid promises to a stupid girl.

A stupid girl who was stupid enough to listen to his stupid words.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid.

That night you cried yourself to sleep, unaware of the man who stood just outside your door, listening to your sobs of pain, and knowing he was the cause of such sorrow.

After you had left Cregan in the godswood, he had stayed beneath the heart tree praying to the old gods. Praying for guidance and for help to make the right choice. He was torn. He knew his feelings for you. He knew that they had always been there, but he was too blind to see it until now. But he had also made an oath to Arra and her parents. He had made an oath to his people, to the North. He simply could not forsake his word for his own selfish desires, but he had also given his word to you all those years ago, and the pain that he was causing you was eating him up inside.

Some time had passed and by the time Cregan returned to the Great Keep it was nearly the hour of the bat. As he walked through the quiet halls to his chambers, he decided he wanted to try and speak with you again, in hopes of somehow repairing the damage he had done. Once he arrived at your door, he took a deep breath and was about to knock when he heard it.

You were crying.

Cregan’s heart dropped to his stomach.

He had caused this.

He was the reason why you were currently bawling your eyes out alone. It felt like a lifetime ago that he was the one comforting you when you were upset, but now he was the cause of your misery. Cregan stood there, forehead resting against the wooden door, unsure of what to do. Should he go in and comfort you? Should he leave?

You’d probably yell at him and throw him out if he came in, especially after the earlier interaction, but he wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and tell you everything was going to be fine and that he was sorry. He knew he should probably leave, but his feet refused to move, and guilt consumed him as your weeping continued.

If only he’d had the courage to tell you his feelings, you wouldn’t be going through this.

If only he had remembered the oath he’d made, you wouldn’t be so broken.

If only he wasn’t bound by duty as the Warden of the North.

It felt like hours, when it was really minutes, before your whimpers eventually stopped and Cregan knew you’d fallen asleep. He turned as if to walk away but paused. You were always a heavy sleeper, especially after crying, but there was still a slight chance that you would wake up, but Cregan was willing to risk it. He took deep breath and quietly opened your door, and the sight that greeted him made his breath hitch. There you were, hair splayed out around you, the dim light from the moon illuminating your delicate features.

He took the chance to admire you, noting the way your lips were parted just a bit, and a quiet snore coming from your mouth. He smiled at how peaceful you looked, free of the despair he had caused. As he trailed his eyes over your body, the evening breeze graced the room and made you shiver in your sleep. You had been so distraught that you hadn’t even sought comfort in the warm furs adorning your bed. Cregan tip-toed to your side and slid his arms under your small frame, careful to not rouse you from your slumber, as he shifted you just enough to cover you with a blanket.

As he pulled the cover up to your chin, he caught sight of your tear-stained cheeks. As he wiped them way with the pad of his thumb, you turned your face and nuzzled into his palm, letting out a small sigh at the contact. Cregan froze, worried that he’d woken you up, but breathed a sigh of relief when you made no other movements. He tried to draw his hand away slowly, afraid that you would somehow wake up, but was stopped when you abruptly grabbed his arm and rolled over, unexpectedly pulling him into the bed.

He quickly caught himself before he landed on you and held his breath as he gradually lowered his body to lay next to you, praying that you wouldn’t choose that moment to wake up. He thanked the gods when he managed to settle himself behind you, arm slung over your body, trapped in your grip. Cregan steadily shifted until he was right up against you, nothing but the thick material of the wool and furs separating your bodies and closed his eyes.

He smiled as he recalled how the two of you would often fall asleep like this as children. How you two would somehow always manage to wake up in each other’s arms, your head resting on his chest, his arm tightly curled around you. He had never given it much thought back then since you’d been children, but then chastised himself since that kind of thinking was what got him into this mess to begin with.

He tried to think of the last time you’d fallen asleep in his arms and realized that the last time was shortly after your sixteenth name day, several months after his father had passed. Your septa had admonished you the next morning when she’d found you in his arms, saying that it was not appropriate to sleep beside a man that was not your husband, especially when the man was the young Lord of Winterfell, and she had not hesitated to give him the same scolding. The two of you never slept beside each other after that.

Cregan was saddened at the memory, having never recognized the obvious affection between you two. He closed his eyes, listening to your breathing and occasional snores, and breathed in your scent. The smell of pine with a pleasant undertone of smoke invaded his nostrils, and he draw soft circles over your hand as he felt how your body perfectly fit against his. He committed it all to his memory and wanted to savor this moment for as long as he could, knowing that he would probably never get another chance at this with you.

Cregan laid awake behind you for several hours, and as the hour of the owl approached, he reluctantly released you from his embrace and stood. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek and forehead before exiting your chambers, giving you one last look before he shut the door silently behind him.

Unbeknownst to him, you had opened your eyes just seconds after the door had shut.

⟸ Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter ⟹

[ughgoaway]

Ok so maybe the walls of neighbor matty and girlie’s building are kinda thin so when she fucks he can hear everythinggg and he’s laying there like Oh my god i’m a pervert but she’s so hot and he’s imagining what she must look like all sweaty and naked and moaning like that… and he just slooowly starts getting off, shirt CLENCHED between his teeth to keep himself quiet because if He can hear Her the reverse has to be true as well and then he cums all over himself wishing he was the one making her scream like that

and then maybe takes advantage of the fact she can definitely hear him getting off at a later date teehee 😇😇

Oh ABSOLUTELY, heather your mind>>>>>

(18+ below the cut, please!! also this might be shite i haven't written properly in 76 years. 1.4k ish!!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

You've just been on yet another date, and you know there's no future there at all. His going on for 45 minutes about his latest stock investments in crypto made that clear. But you also know there doesn't need to be a future for him to get you off. So you flash your doe eyes and invite him up to your place, letting the strap of your dress slip and a glimpse of black lace peek through. It doesn't take much before his hands are groping at your ass as the lift doors click closed.

And he's a fine kisser, and his skin on yours feels just the same as any other man. But when your hands slide into his hair, you can't help but subconsciously wish you were gripping unkempt curls, tugging at them and hearing that same moan you’ve heard through the thin walls of your bedroom late at night. You wish you could smell the woody aftershave that makes you roll your eyes every time it wafts your way, you want to hear just one voice whispering the things he's saying into your ear, and his gruff tone isn't scratching the itch you’re in denial about.

The sheets hit your bare back, and you watch with hooded eyes as your date scrambles to get his trousers down his legs, clearly eager to get inside you. And knowing how good you look right now, you're not surprised. His overheated lips touch the skin of your neck, and you decide then and there to put on the performance of your life. You don't want Matty, and your brain convincing you that you do is just because it's swimming in expensive wine and 2 shots of tequila. You want him, you want… John? No, James? Wait… did it begin with J? Oh well, you don't need to be coherent when you focus on his skin on yours. Breathy moans and whines will more than suffice.

Matty's eyes snap open the second he hears a low voice accompanying yours, the breathy faux giggle falling from your lips making him roll his eyes. As far as he's concerned, he's just annoyed about any noise, not that there's a man with you. Or that he's now in your bedroom, judging by the gradually louder speech. He fucking hates that his headboard and yours technically share a wall, bored of hearing all your shitty singing when you're getting ready in the morning. 

If he has to hear your rendition of Ain't it fun one more time, he's going to make an official noise complaint. Mainly because he loves it when you get pissed off and your eyebrows scrunch up as you yell at him. His heart tries to tell him it's because he finds you endearing, but his head refuses that fact.

He definitely doesn't feel like he loves anything when he hears the first wanton moan fall from your lips, and the louder they get, the more frustration builds inside him. What type of frustration is up for debate, but judging by the slowly growing tent in his trousers, it's not just pure annoyance. He really tries to stop focusing on your every noise, but it's hard when you sound like that. He swears he can hear every hitch in your breath, every shaky inhale and needy moan that comes from your ruby red lips.

He feels like a fucking creep and he's just about to reach for his headphones when you start getting louder, groaning and screaming like the girls he watches on Friday nights, one hand down his trousers and the other turning up the volume on his Macbook. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine what you’re doing. He can see you hovering above him, skin glowing red, flushed from your tits all the way up to the apples of your cheeks. His eyes flicker closed as he sees visions of your tits bouncing bove him, you pulling your hair to the side exposing your marked-up neck with a sly smirk covering your face. 

Goosebumps rise on his skin, and without realising it, his hand starts to slide down, groping himself over his thin boxers. A far too loud shaky gasp is ripped from his chest. He can't help but freeze immediately, nervous that somehow over the sounds of slapping skin and wanton grunts, you'd heard his weak gasp. But judging by the loud moan followed by “fuck- yes!” That he hears, you're obviously distracted by something else. Or somebody else.

Dilemma fills his mind. Or it does for a few seconds, but he can't stop himself from lying back down, pulling his boxers down his knees, dragging his shirt up over his skin and gripping it between his teeth, tugging at it to get a better view of his hand wrapping around his half hard dick. The first tug is heavenly, there’s just enough pull to make him hiss, but the shirt muffles any noises he makes, and the slight pain just feels so fucking good.

It doesn't take long before he's furiously pumping his fist to the sounds of you, ignoring the gruff grunts of the mystery man to instead focus on your high pitched moans followed by breathy praise that he knows is you. Matty's brain convinces himself each noise is for him, every gasp, whine, and whimper ripped from your chest is because you are thinking of him, wishing he was on top of you, dreaming of him inside you whispering filthy secrets into your ear as he bites at your neck.

His thumb brushes over his weeping tip, spreading beads of precum down his shaft, using it as lube to move faster, grip himself harder, to feel more. Each time his fist reaches the top of his erection, he can't help his hips jump into the contact, the same needy moan falling from his muffled lips. He swears he can taste blood, biting the shirt so hard he's sure he's catching his lip, the liquid iron taste overwhelming his senses in a way he can't bring himself to care about.

The air was thick and heavy around him, the smell of your perfume somehow filling his senses, his eyes flicking open to watch the red flush that covers his inked skin creep up his body, obscuring the small marks that litter him. Shaky eyes roll into the back of his head, fighting to stop his jaw-dropping and letting every grunt and groan escape. Part of him wants you to hear. He wants you to know he is getting off to you, to know that he wants you. Instead, he bites down harder, letting beads of sweat drip down his neck. Twitching hips and his racing heart make his head hazy, visions of you clouding his mind.

Cosmic timing makes you and Matty teeter at the edge of bliss at the same time, the same electricity pooling at both of your spines. Matty can tell you’re close even with a wall between the two of you. Your once coherent pleads quickly become rambling words and needy cries. He swears he can see you keening into his touch when he closes his eyes, speeding up his first to match the sounds of slapping skin he can hear next door, convincing himself that he’s the one fucking you.

Coiling tension pulsates inside you both, your breath hitching moments before the tension snaps, wave crashing over you and Matty. Your legs shake uncontrollably, your hips jumping as your date keeps fucking you, pushing deeper as he watches you in awe, studying the way your jaw drops and your whole body shivers.

Matty listens in shock, staring down as streams of white cum cover his thighs, painting the tattoo that sits so proudly on his hip. He keeps listening to every noise from you, wishing he could hear them without plaster between you, he wants to be the one making you cry from pleasure, watching your body shake as you come down, seeing the blissed-out smile on your face when you finally start to feel your legs again.

But eventually, the cum on his skin starts to feel cold and sticky, and the visions of you become clouded with all the times you've told him you hate him, all the times you called the building manager because he won't stop smoking weed, or even the time you called the police because he wouldn't stop blasting music. The illusion was shattered as he wipes his cum half-heartedly off his thighs and hand, rolling over to sleep, fighting to forget he ever hears a single noise from the apartment next door.

As for you hearing him… I will expand it another time teehee

(p.s any and all neighbour matty ideas are welcomed xoxo)

[meo-eiru]

Dear diary.

Elias was pretty, beautiful, breathtaking— Really, you could go on and on forever with synonyms of how pleasing to the eye the man was, but even as nice looking as he was nothing could hide how ugly he was inside,

He was just like a rotting piece of candy, covered in beautiful wrapping, advertising how good it was inside and how you would never ever regret it, but as you unfurled the frilly plastic you would only start to see the sickening mold clinging to the insides on the wrapper,

Disgusting, repulsive and vile were the contents inside the “treat”, green and white blotches bloomed over the sugary appetizers, it was not beautiful anymore, for you had discarded the only thing that could have ever blanketed what was really inside,

You would never tell him the double meaning your words had, when you would tell him that he looked as pretty as a treat— a rotten one, but nevertheless a treat,

And things would stay that way for as long as you could, he was sweet, saccharine sweet, tooth rotting sweet, your teeth aches just thinking of how pretty he was, but you knew that even the prettiest of façades could never truly hide what is beneath,

Love, smiles 💕

(I locked in on this one, I ate a rotten candy yesterday and thought of this for Elias 🫶🏼🫶🏼)

You really did lock in oh my god I love this

The rotten candy symbolism is actually so on point, you can even go one more step ahead and call him a fake cake. Like those wedding cakes with several layers, you think they look very pretty and delicious only to realize it's fake and hallow. It looks delicious but there's nothing to eat inside, an imitation of a cake.

It's just so, so unfortunate. He has so much love inside but barely anything that could make him worthy of the same love. Fated to be like this from birth, maybe it would've been better if god hadn't given him any self awareness at all. Because Elias knows just how worthless he is inside more than anyone ever could. But even so his heart yearns for you, and he will continue yearning for you until he is nothing but history.

[mustainegf]

oh man current james and his tummy 🤤🤤🤤

AHH I already had this written just funsies so it’s a bit short :(

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 ²⁰²⁴

What're you thinkin' about?" James whispered, lazily turning his head to look at me. "Just you," I whispered back. "You just look so damn good lying there."

James chuckled, hand squeezing on my hip. "Oh yeah? Well, you're lookin' pretty damn sexy yourself, darlin'”

I bit my lip, A need swelled inside me, one that I could no longer ignore. I straddled his hips, moving closer, and sank my knees into the mattress on either side of him. The fabric of my panties rubbed against his stomach, and beneath me, I could feel his hard abdominals.

He wasn't even trying to hide that he was getting turned on by this, his eyes sharpening as he looked up at me, his hands instinctively grabbing my hips.

"James…" I murmured.

"Mmm?" he hummed, his thumbs brushing against the bare skin just above the waistband of my panties.

"I want you," I breathed out, my voice a lot more desperate than I intended. Whatever.

That was that smirk, that smug, cocky, sure smile that drove me up the wall. "Then take what you want, baby."

I didn't need any more prompting than that. I began to swing my hips, rubbing against his stomach. The friction sent stars through me. His muscles tensed beneath me, his hands tightening on my hips, guiding me.

"Fuck," I moaned softly, tossing my head back, my body reacting to every slight nudge I gave.

James groaned beneath me, his fingers digging into my hips as he watched me. "That's it, babe… Keep goin' Just like that."

His words were gasoline to a fire, exploding the heat inside of me, in turn, making me move faster.

I could feel how wet I was, could feel the slickness of my arousal spreading over his stomach as I rocked against him. It was so dirty, I loved it. I loved the way he was looking at me, the way he was egging me on.

"God, you're so fuckin' sexy," James growled, his hands sliding up my sides, his thumbs grazing the undersides of my breasts through my thin tank top. "Look at you, ridin' me like that. You gonna come for me, baby? You gonna cover me in your sweet little juices?"

I whimpered at his words, the coil in my tummy winding tighter. I didn't stop. I couldn't. I needed this. I needed him.

"James," I gasped, my voice shattering as I felt the tickle of the few hairs on his stomach, shivering my inner thighs. "I'm so close. Please… I'm so close."

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me?" he continued to press, his hands sliding back down to my hips, grasping me tight as he pushed and pulled me. "Come on, baby. Let go. I wanna feel you cum all over me."

I cried out his name as the feeling ripped through me, my muscles clenching and releasing. I felt the hot flood of my release soaking through my panties, spreading over his skin, and it only made it that much better.

"Fuck, yes," James groaned, his grip on my hips tightening as he held me still, taking in the scent of sex in the air. "That's it, babe. That's my girl. Look how good you are for me."

I shook and whimpered as the final tremors of the orgasm faded, collapsing beside him. I could feel his heart pounding beneath me, clearly excited.

"That…” I panted, my voice breathless, my head spinning.

James chuckled, running his hands up and down my back. "You’re such a good girl, you know that?”

[dsireland86]

Hello ☺️ Hope your doing well.

Could I please request a Matt Dierkes one shot if possible him being a grumpy ass except to his wife?? Fluffy and cute 🙏

Oh you are my first Matt Dierkes one-shot! Yes! Thank you for the inspiration :)

Feeling on the Edge

TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986

Matt drummed his fingers on his lap anxiously. I could tell he was in a bad mood, dying to get out of the video call meeting with the management team. His face said he was irritated and completely over the whole record label bull crap. He just wanted to be done.

Seeing how fidgety he was, I nudged his leg beneath the table with my foot hoping the friction was enough to tame his temper. He looked over at me and his dark eyes, full aggression, immediately softening.

I grinned at him to let him know I was still in his corner. He grinned back, took a deep breath, and refocused his attention on the computer screen, but not before reaching over and placing his hand on the inside of my thigh.

The rest of the day was hell for everyone, because Matt insisted on setting the world around him on fire. Every little thing that someone did annoyed him. Every word that was said, Matt had some sarcastic, snippy remark to follow it.

In the process of just three hours, he managed to break a computer monitor because he was too impatient, cut the wrong wire while attempting to splice a cable that Noah said was dead, spill Nicholas's coffee all down the front of him because he turned around too fast out of anger, dropped a mix board, misplaced his phone not once, not twice, but three times, and to top it all off, he had run out of Dr. Pepper.

"Dude, you need to calm the hell down! You starting to stress me out," Folio criticized him.

"Yeah, no joke. And if Folio is stressed then the rest of us are at the point of giving you a beatdown."

Matt glared at Noah who crossed his arms while leaning against the table. Matt didn't speak, but the look he was giving Noah screamed a big "fuck you".

"Well, it's not my fault. Those stupid pieces of shit at the record label treat me like I'm and idiot sometimes. I'm not a fucking idiot! I know how to do my job!"

"Nobody is say you are, baby," I pointed out.

"Matt calm down, man. You know not to listen to those people."

Nicholas came walking into the conversation after switching to a pair of clean clothes.

"Oh my god! What the hell are you wearing?"

Matt's expression was of utter disgust, looking at Nick. All of us turned and stared, a few bursting into fits of laughter. Nick didn't match at all. Sporting a neon pink shit that was a little too snug and a pair of snake skin looking pants that were way too stretchy for him to be wearing, he looked ridiculous.

"What?" Nick shrugged with his hands up. "It's all I could find. If someone hadn't been so angry and turned around so fast," scowling over at Matt, "I wouldn't be in this mess."

"Oh so it's my fault you look like a clown?" Matt snapped.

"Yeah, I kinda is," Nick shot back. "And your piss poor attitude!"

"What! I don't have a piss poor attitude! I've just had a fucked up day and all of you have added to it!"

"What! I didn't do anything!" I exclaimed defensively.

Matt's eyes quickly shifted over to me. "No, no, not you baby. You're fine. You haven't done anything wrong," he reassured me, smiling.

"Oh for god's sake, come on man! Your wife isn't that perfect," Folio groaned.

"Hey!"

"Mmm, I don't know, Folio, she's pretty perfect. I mean, you've had her cooking, and we all know that's she's done your laundry a few times, even finding the matches to your lost socks."

Folio looked at me, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah I guess so. Sorry, Y/N," he said leaning over and laying a sweet soft kiss on my cheek.

"Okay, well if you all are done flirting with my wife, I'd like to have her back now, please. Go get your own women! She belongs to me."

"Matt! That was so mean!"

"What! It's true! They're always trying to steal you from me."

I laughed so hard.

"Holy shit, Matt, you can't be serious!"

"Especially you," he chided Noah. "You're always trying to get in her pants."

"Alright, Matthew. That's it! Come with me; now!"

"It's Matt," he corrected me as I pulled him away from the group.

"What is going on with you? Where did that come from? Noah? Really, Matt!"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, walking sluggishly over to me. I snaked my arms around his waist, shaking my head at the Lord of the Rings Shirt he was wearing.

"I just washed that shirt and hung it up last night," I scolded him.

Turning his hat backwards, he lowered his forehead to mine, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm snapping again, aren't I?"

I smiled, placing my hands on the sides of his face.

"Yes, baby, you are," slowly sliding my hands up under his shirt. I played with the front of the waistband of his joggers, feeling his tummy sink in from being so ticklish. He chuckled, jerking his body away from me, but I gathered his shirt in my hands and pulled him back into me. That's when his lips found mine, colliding ever so gently. They were wet and warm, and tasted like the recent Celsius he'd just had.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"For which part?"

He scowled at me, confused.

"For being grumpy or the shirt?"

Matt laughed, giving me a quick kiss.

"Both."

"You owe those guys over there more of an apology. You've been horrible to them today. Are you listening to me?"

"Yup, I am," he assured me. But the way he scooped me up into his arms, leaning over me and attaching his lips to my neck, I knew he wasn't.

"Matthew, stop!" I squealed, trying to get out of his clutches. "Let me go!"

"It's Matt, and no," he groaned, letting his head fall to my chest as I continued to wiggle out of his embrace. "I'm not letting you go. Ever."

The more I wiggled, the more he tightened his grip and my leg got caught up in his, tripping me, and causing me to fall. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the hard impact, only to meet a soft body beneath me and a slight bump to the floor. I looked down and saw Matt beneath me.

"Shit, baby!"

"I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm good." He stared up at me, smiling.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Positive," he assures me, reaching up and pulling me into his lips. He kissed me slow, taking his time to let me feel every move he made.

"Mmm, that... I like that."

He grinned. "I like, you. A lot."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," I joked, leaning in and kissing him again, feeling him smile against my lips.

Matt sat up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his lap. I rested my arms on his shoulders, staring into his eyes.

"You're really pretty, you know that?"

"Oh, so you can give compliments. Shocking!"

"Shut-up! God," he shook his head laughing. "Your sarcasm's going to kill me one day. And what the hell, I'm trying to be nice here!"

Matt tickled my sides, making me laugh hysterically.

"I love you," he said, kissing my forehead.

Wrapping myself up in his arms, I snuggle into Matt, burying my face in his chest. His heart was beating fast, telling me he was happy; that I made him happy.

"I love you, too, Matthew," I replied, grinning.

"It's Matt."

[witchofsparkles]

Ghost was not having a very good day. It wasn’t the job in particular because it was expected of him to be used to it by now after 15 years of service; it was because the man right next to him grinning ear to ear as if he didn't just come out of a bloody combat with explosives, terrorists and flying limbs. The limbs were not belong to them, god bless, but especially the explosives were their doing.

Not theirs as a team, but the man who has a nasty smile's.

The explosives belonged to the reason of his headache for months, Soap.

Ghost tried not to fall for Soap's banter, but his mouth didn't know better. Even though he couldn’t even hear what the man was saying, Ghost replied sarcastically. "Yeah, Johnny. Sure, whatever you say."

What other answer there that could be said to everything? Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just please stop talking.

"You do think I'm pretty? Oh, that’s flattering. Thank you, sir. Please write that in the report so Price can see my charm too. It would work better coming from you, the big man with the mask." Ghost almost tripped down from the heli and crashed onto the mountains thousands fits down and at that moment he didn't think he would mind a good head trauma with a highly possible death.

He though to put a stop to it, to ruin the mood, but decided against. Ghost couldn’t avert his gaze fast enough, and his eyes locked with Soap for a split second. The carefree smile Soap sent to Ghost made his stomach flutter.

And Ghost would drink bleach if he knew it would kill the butterflies in his stomach.

Yeah, there was another reason for his headache and bad times in general.

Ghost was down bad in love with his Sergeant, John MacTavish.

Ghost watched Soap walking into the base with the other soldiers, laughing loudly and looking all hot in bloody gear. Ghost just stood next to the heli silently, tried to appear like he was busy with something, and checked Soap's back out. Ghost knew he wasn’t injured or anything, but who could be sure? In the heat of the war, blood full of adrenalin, everybody could make mistakes.

The reason of his gaze was purely professional and had nothing to do with how Soap's ass was moving with his every step. Totally.

"You might wanna take your chances, you know that right?" Ghost almost jumped out of his skin and his hand went to his knife reflexively.

"You know better to not sneak up on me, Price." Ghost relaxed his stance and put the knife back. Price was smiling at him.

"And I know that I can give you a very hard time if we had to fight. Anyway. You pray that there's a mask on your face. With how obvious you're about staring at Johnny, even my dead mom can come up and laugh at you."

Ghost inhaled sharply. "You call him Johnny again, we will see about that fight."

A laugh escaped Price. "God. Calm down, son. No one's taking him. Fine, I won't call him that. Jesus."

Ghost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t feeling like talking and yet he couldn’t shut up today. Also, he didn't want to think about Price's implication. "Why are you here? I was coming to report."

Price stroked his mustache, and that made Ghost's stomach drop with worry. "Why is your hand on your mustache? Who died?"

Price threw him a dirty look. "Why do everyone think like that when they see me? No one died. Not yet. And hopefully never. I changed my mind. You go rest, we will talk later when all of you available."

"You said no one died, yet. Why don't we talk now?" Ghost's knuckles were white from holding his west so hard. Something bad happened, he knew it.

Price stared at him again, a little longer than a second. "It's nothing out of ordinary. Just our everyday madness. You look like shit, and Soap looked like shit. If the only sane one is Gaz among you, I fear everyone will die. So, go rest. I will call you when you can open both of your eyes at will."

Ghost couldn’t sleep. It was expected, after how Price teased him with an apocalypse. In his mind, at least. If he didn't think the worst could happen, he wouldn’t be Ghost. He was so tense that Ghost thought his skin was gonna tear apart. His headache from the explosions was worse, and every single one of his muscles were hurting.

All stopped when he saw Johnny sitting at where Ghost was usually sitting. It was his secret place, a tiny corner with no noise and just darkness. The place he would come when the sleep didn't.

"Why are you here?" Ghost would love it if he didn't sound like a goddamn incubus.

Soap jumped, expectedly. Turned to him sharply, then took a deep breath when he saw who was it. "You almost had to file a suspicious dead report on me. Stop creating work for yourself."

Ghost snickered, that’s how his Johnny was. He was acting like a class clown, but Ghost wasn’t believing in that. All that laughing and joking, it was almost impossible in this job. When all you could see was the dead, your voice was turning into a whisper.

It was sadness that consumes you.

"It would take a lot more to kill you, Johnny." Ghost's voice was always deep, but for some reason it deepened. Like he was sharing a secret. Almost a whisper.

Johnny's eyes shimmered under the dim lights. They looked like stars for a moment, then Ghost corrected himself. Not stars, explosions. Fireworks.

"Is everything okay? Why don't you sleep? Were you thinking about something?" Johnny was looking up to him from where he was sitting, and Ghost was looking down. He wanted to take Johnny's face between his hands and brush the stubble at the corner of his mouth. He wanted to crash into his lips, taste him with his tongue, just sweep it across Johnny's lips and inside his mouth, feel the hot wetness of his saliva around his own tongue, to get Johnny's tongue in his mouth and crowd him in, to be able to get a fistful of Johnny's stupid mohawk while kissing with a lust that would shame Jesus himself that he would have to look away, he wanted to touch Johnny's every bit on his back and kiss him from his neck to down his happy trail, he wanted to be able to touch at the tip of him with just only a finger and make him moan for more-

"I was thinking about you."

Rest is on ao3:

[dixons-sunshine]

Ticklish | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

The sun had just began its slow descent down between the mountains. Outside, the songs the birds so merrily sung each day began being replaced by the sounds of crickets and owls hooting in the distance. The usually bustling streets of your neighbourhood were surprisingly quieter than most days, and it appeared to be the perfect night to stay in and watch a movie with your boyfriend.

However, Joshua Frohmeyer could be an unpredictable man, and somehow you ended up on your back on his mattress, his body hovering over yours. But instead of doing far more pleasurable activities in that position, your boyfriend had other plans.

“Josh!” your voice rung out through the air, the sound being punctuated with the shrieks of laughter that you emitted. “Please!”

Scud’s own chuckles filled the air of your room. However, the man did not cease his attacks. His hands continued their relentless onslaught, his fingers working at your sides, which just so happened to be one of the spots you were most ticklish. Your sides were being playfully tormented by your boyfriend’s work-worn hands, and there appeared to be no escape from his attacks.

You squirmed around to attempt to flee from him, but Scud held you firmly in place. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes from the continuous laughter, and you were happy that the day walker wasn’t in that night, because you were sure he would have barged in to complain about the noise.

“Baby, please!” you pleaded with Scud, your hands trying to push his off. However, your attempts were futile. “Josh!”

Your next move was entirely unintentional. You were only trying to adjust your leg. You hadn’t intended for your knee to bend, and you certainly did not intend for your knee to make contact with Scud’s crotch.

Scud’s attacks finally let up, but not in the way you had wanted. He groaned in pain and rolled off of you onto his back, his eyes screwed shut. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned painfully.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized what you had done. You scrambled into a seated position, your eyes trailing over Scud as you contemplated whether or not you were allowed to touch him after that. “Oh my god,” you whispered in horror, remorse evident on your face. “Josh, I am so fucking sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. I am so sorry, Baby.”

“Pretty sure you didn’t have to resort to violence, Babe,” Scud told you, his face still scrunched up in pain. He opened one of his eyes to peer at you. “Fuck. That really hurt.”

“I’m so sorry, Josh,” you frantically apologized. “I really didn’t mean—”

“Ain’t gonna be able to have kids after this. You kneed me really hard,” Scud interrupted you, a faint, teasing smirk on his face.

You noticed the playful look in his eyes, and realization dawned on you. “You’re taking the piss out of me, aren’t you?” you questioned. You got your answer in the form of Scud’s laugh. You playfully hit him on his arm. “You jerk! Did I even really hurt you?”

“Nah. You kneed my thigh,” Scud admitted with a hearty laugh. “But I couldn’t help myself. I had to.”

You let out a small scoff, but a smile still graced your features. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

“Yeah, and yet ya love me.”

“I do,” you agreed, shaking your head. “Against my better judgement, but I do.”

[cosmicdahlias]

I Hate Everything About You

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: slut-shaming, slapping, oral, rough sex, choking, breeding, drugs (weed)

this is my first stab at an enemies to lovers fic. i’ve always loved the trope, so this was a lot of fun. i also definitely didn’t include them smorkig weed because i’m like missing it and living vicariously through my writing or anything. 👀💦

You sat in your dorm finishing your homework. You were in your junior year at Backupsmore University with a major in theoretical physics, winter break was two weeks away. Tonight you were on edge, dreading a knock on the door. The reason? You had been assigned to write a research paper with Stanford fucking Pines.

Oh my god how you hated him. Success and praise flocked to him. You were the only feminine presenting person in your major, and thus had to fight tooth and nail to be seen as even half as good as your male classmates.

It drove you mad how professors just seemed to naturally love him, whereas they never showed you the time of day. And worst of all? He was arrogant and self-absorbed. He thought himself so much better than the other- in his words- “troglodytes” around him.

But what you hated the most was how attracted to him you were. How could you want to fuck someone so badly when you hated their guts? You always tried to repress your feelings, but some nights you still shamefully found yourself with your hand between your legs, thoughts running wild of Stanford using you like a sex toy.

You quietly seethed over your homework when you heard knocking at your door. You sighed heavily and pushed your chair back, savoring your last Stanford free moments.

You swung the door open and there stood the man that you despised more than everything.

“Stanford.” You said coldly.

“Y/n.” He responded, not even entertaining the idea of making eye contact with you, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.

-

Barely an hour had passed before you two found yourselves locked in a heated argument. A simple disagreement over formatting had boiled over.

“Jesus christ, Stanford why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?”

“I’M making things difficult? I’m not the one who’s been shooting daggers all night, barely responding to my questions because apparently talking to me is like pulling teeth. What the hell did I ever do to make you hate me this much?”

“Oh you really wanna know why I hate you? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that professors fawn over you for the most menial effort, meanwhile I’ve had to work myself to the bone, slaving away just to earn half the recognition you barely have to lift a finger for.” You spat.

“Well maybe if you kept your legs closed every now and then this wouldn’t be nearly as hard as you make it.”

Hot tears formed in your eyes, you quickly raised a hand and brought it down hard on his face. He stumbled back, his cheeks turning bright red and not from the slap. You looked down, a bulge clearly forming in his pants.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” You thought, quickly growing angrier that he had managed to turn you on like this.

“For fuck’s sake Stanford, are you serious?” You said through gritted teeth.

“I- well I- it’s not like I can help it. I’ve never been slapped before.”

You stared at each other for a moment, the sexual tension building.

“Look,” he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation “it’s clear we both have some underlying feelings for each other, perhaps it would be for the best if we-“

“Whoa whoa whoa,” you said, cutting him off “maybe you do, but I certainly don’t.”

“Oh please, don’t lie to yourself. I catch you staring at me during lectures all the time, undressing me with your eyes, nothing anywhere like the malice you so pretended to demonstrate tonight. Admit it, you like me. Despite aaaaaall of your personal hangups about my successes, you genuinely have feelings for me.” He said, crossing his arms.

He let his words hang in the air, a smirk creasing his lips. God, he was such a dick. “Now,” he continued “I was going to say I think it would be best if we just put this to bed, literally.”

“Stanford, no I-“ the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

He chuckled, tilting your chin up. “I knew it, you want this.”

He pressed a firm kiss to your lips. He was right, you did want this. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t imagined him between your thighs during class. You reached a hand down, fondling his cock over his pants.

“Mmm, fuck.” He groaned into your mouth.

You both began removing each other’s clothes desperately. He looked down at your naked body, his breath shaking. He took your breast in his hand, stroking your nipple with his thumb.

“Do you know the things those brutes in class say about you, about your body? When you walk into the room every man fucks you with their eyes, but you like it that way, don’t you?”

You took his thick cock in your hand and stroked it, he moaned and buried his head in the crook of your neck. He pulled himself away then pointed to the floor. You sank to your knees in front of him and wrapped your fingers around his cock again, pumping the near 8.5 inches in your hand. He tilted his head back, groaning and cursing.

“Put my cock in your mouth, baby.”

You went to slowly take his head in your mouth, but he seized a fistful of your hair and shoved the full length down your throat. You choked and gagged.

“You know I was thinking of being nice, but honestly I think you deserve to be brutally fucked after the way you’ve been acting. How does that sound, princess?”

You nodded with his cock buried in your mouth.

“Good, although honestly I was planning on doing it regardless.”

He gritted his teeth and resumed bucking furiously into your mouth. You to whimpered and gagged around him, tears streaming down your face.

“You’re my little slut now, you understand?”

You let out a muffled “Mhmf.”

“Look at you, letting me fuck your mouth like this. Do you let anyone else do this to you?”

He pulled out to let you answer. “No.”

He shoved his cock back in your mouth. “Let’s keep it that way. I’m not big on- mmf, sharing. I always figured the rumors of you being the campus whore weren’t true. You have too much self respect for that, but I bet you’re so dirty when you’re alone. Picturing me fucking you in every position, touching yourself and cumming with my name on your lips.”

He quickened pace, fucking your mouth rapidly in pure aggression. He growled and his hips stuttered, he was going to cum in your mouth if he kept going like this. He pulled you back by your hair and you took in a gasping breath. He didn’t give you a chance to breathe before picking you up and throwing you facedown on the bed.

He knelt behind you, slapping your ass hard a few times. “There, now I think we’re even.”

His hands pinned your wrists to the bed and he teased your entrance for barely even a second before slamming every inch inside you. You struggled to hold back a loud moan, trying to not let the whole floor know that you were getting absolutely wrecked.

He growled and moved his hands to your hips, fucking you so hard that it felt like his cock was going to split you in half.

“I have a confession to make, y/n.” He breathed between violent thrusts into you. “I saw you, two weeks ago, in the library. You didn’t see me, you leaned down to select a book off the lowest shelf and I could see your panties under your skirt. Pink with black lace. God I- I couldn’t resist, not after watching you eye me up in class. I found a quiet part of the library and stroked my cock to the thought of you.”

He picked up his pace, the slaps of his hips meeting your ass only aroused you more. “When our professor announced the assignment I knew I had to have you. I went and spoke to him after class and convinced him to pair you up with me. And now look at you, taking my cock like the whore you are, just like I knew you would.”

You gripped the sheets in your fingers as he pounded you into the mattress. Jesus fucking christ the idea of him getting worked up because of you was enough to fuel your masturbation fantasies for months. The thought of him stroking himself- in public no less- just because he saw your panties, good god you were going to savor that image in your mind forever.

He flipped you over on your back, kissing you deeply. His hands found your hips and pulled you onto his cock, resuming his aggressive rhythm.

“I love the feeling of fucking you from behind, but I need to see those eyes.”

He slid his hand to your throat, gripping it tightly. You choked out a weak moan and the corners of your vision started to turn to black static.

“God you’re gonna make me fucking cum. I want you to look in my eyes as I breed you, princess.”

He pounded faster and faster, savoring every moan and whimper that passed your lips. You dug your nails into his back causing his cock to twitch and throb, edging him closer by the second to cumming inside you.

“Look into my eyes, look into my eyes as I cum in you.” He demanded.

The sight of your doe eyes looking back at him was what did it. His brutally fast pace faltered and his breathing hitched and as he felt himself release deep in you, his hot cum coating your walls. He moaned your name loudly.

He panted, exhausted and collapsed beside you, trying to catch his breath. You were about to kiss him when he started making his way down your body.

“Stanford what are you-“

“Finishing the job, I’m not about to leave you unsatisfied like some kind of neanderthal would, I’m better than that.” He muttered.

You rolled your eyes, there he goes being arrogant as usual.

He took your clit in his mouth, you reached a hand down and buried it in his hair. He hummed against you, tongue lapping at your delicate nub.

“So desperate for me, aren’t you?” He teased.

“Nnnngh, Stanford.”

He looked up at you and chuckled. “Please, call me Ford.”

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them against your g-spot. You arched your back instinctively and he held you in place by your hips.

“Getting close already are we?”

“Mmh, I can’t help it, you’re too good at this.”

“Surprisingly research goes a long way. It’s amazing what certain books can teach you.” He said with a devilish smile.

“You fucking nerd, I didn’t say you could stop.” You tightened your grip on his hair and pushed him against your clit, he let out a little “hmf”.

You rocked your hips against his tongue, feeling yourself tip over the edge.

“Ahh hah, oh Ford.”

Your orgasm shook you, hitting you hard. All you could do was focus on your breathing. Ford watched you intently, god you looked so perfect when you came.

He moved himself up on the bed, coming behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist, spooning you.

Goddammit, you really thought you were going to just bottle up your feelings for Ford until the day you died, but here you were in post coital bliss with him pressed against you.

-

The conflicting feelings of fucking the classmate you thought you despised moments ago started to weigh on you, you needed to take the edge off. You rolled out of Ford’s arms and off the bed, his eyes following you. You dug around in your bedside drawer pulling out a small baggie and a glass pipe.

You packed the bowl and flicked the lighter, taking took a long drag. You let out a cloud of smoke and sighed heavily before laying back down next to Ford, who was still watching you. You raised an eyebrow.

“What is it six fingers?”

“Nothing, I just-“

“Lemme guess, those anti drug psa’s really got to you as a kid.”

He looked away, embarrassed.

You rolled your eyes again. “Jesus, you really are a fucking nerd. Here.”

You handed the pipe to him, he took it in his hand, studying it for a second before flicking the lighter taking a deep inhale, you watched him hold his breath and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Dude, holding it doesn’t do anything, breathe.” You snorted.

He took gasping breath and let out a hacking cough, smoke coming out of his nose.

“That’s what they- ack- always do in the movies.” He wheezed.

“For the love of god, you really need to get out more.”

You passed the pipe back and forth for a good while, talking about random shit. By the end of it you were both sufficiently stoned.

You quickly learned that Ford was very affectionate when he was high, he pulled you close against him, nuzzling the back of your neck, peppering your skin with kisses. He traced the curves of your body with his fingers.

“You know, I was starting to think you genuinely hated me.” He murmured into your neck.

You let out a long sigh. “Ford don’t think I ever actually hated you, I envy you. Everything seems to come so easy to you, almost naturally. Your professors love you and- I don’t know- it was just hard not to feel a twinge of jealousy. Like this college wasn’t even my first choice, everywhere else rejected me and I still have to bust my ass just to be seen as being worth anyone’s time.”

“BMU wasn’t exactly what I had planned on either, I mean, remember what they said at orientation? This is no one’s first choice. My dream school was West Coast Tech, but things… fell through.”

He paused, you could tell there was weight to that last part, memories too painful to say aloud. You didn’t pry.

“Y/n, I want you to understand it hasn’t been easy for me either. I’ve had to work twice as hard just to make something of myself at a school with nonexistent educational standards.”

You felt a pang of guilt for ever assuming this was in any way easy for him. You turned to him, holding his face in your hands and kissing him deeply.

He broke away. “You know I was thinking we could grab coffee in the morning before heading to the library to work on our paper together. I- if you want, that is.” He looked away, nervous.

You smiled and kissed him again. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You laid your head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead. His breathing deepened as he began to fall asleep. You soon felt your eyelids grow heavy, following Ford into slumber.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Hello! I really liked the short story you wrote of Seth and Al’s reaction with sb’s ex, so I wanted to ask if you could do one with Finn and sunflowers’s toxic ex?

Oh, ew it's you again.

TW: toxic ex, mentioned past stalking, mentioned death threats, past break up, idk how to feel about this bc of writer's block hopefully y'all enjoy this!!

"Hey Finn, I got your shirt-" Greeting their boyfriend, Sunflower looks up and sees their ex. With Finn looking very uncomfortable, using the shopping cart to have space between them.

"(Y/N), great your here-" Smiling at them, Sunflower sighed loudly and reached for their phone. "Wait- no please don't call the police-"

Trying to speak again, panicking the ex tries to reach for them. But Finn pushed the shopping cart into her, causing the woman to glare at him. Continuing to call the police Sunflower smiled a bit as Finn blocked them from her line of sight.

"I have a restraining order against you. So, yes, Aliyah I'm calling the police. This is what the third time you've tried to do this shit." Rolling their eyes, Sunflower smiled at Finn who got in front of them. He tried his best to look intimidating, the blonde even started moving them to where more people where.

"Come on, Sunflower. Let's go over here. In case she tries to do something to us." Whispering, Finn gently guided his partner to the check out area. A few shoppers around them heard the commotion and started watching a bit.

"I still can't believe you got that stupid restraining order! It's just a paper! Plus I didn't mean any of the threats I told you! Come on you know I love you-" Rambling Aliyah tried grabbing for you again and Finn slapped her hand. Causing the ex to freeze and look at him like he was the crazy one.

"Yes. I did just hit you. Back up, you don't have any right to be by my partner or me. You sent them death threats because they broke up with you. So, if you do try to touch MY partner again, I will hit you." Calmly explaining, Finn saw the stores security coming to them. Some bystanders started telling Aliyah off and Sunflower just smiled as it all went down.

Store security dragged Aliyah away and some of the people asked if the couple were okay. Being tired Sunflower let Finn explain the situation, how Aliyah has been trying to contact them over the years after the break up. How there was stalking, death threats and gifts sent to them to the point they had to move like three times.

The police showed up, everyone who saw Aliyah go to Sunflower gave a statement and the ex was ushered away. Finn held the bags of stuff they were there to originally buy before being interrupted rudely. Walking to the car, the couple check it to see if anything was tampered with.

"Hopefully, this time she'll get it through her fucking head I don't want her." Grumbling, Sunflower got inside and sat in the passenger seat. Tears weld up in their eyes, they were so tired of this shit. Finn frowned and pulled out the snack he bought to cheer them up.

"I know, but she did get arrested. Let's just go home and relax then figure this out tomorrow okay?" Sunflower nodded at his words. That seemed like a good idea, seeing Aliyah again on a nice day just threw them off. Looking at Finn they started crying, causing Finn to panic. However, these were happy tears.

"I'm so glad I found you." Sniffling out, Sunflower leaned to Finn and hugged him tightly. Gently comforting them, the blonde patted their back. "God I hate ex's."

This caused Finn to snort and nod, thinking about his own sighing as he out the part in reverse. Pulling out of the parking lot and heading to his house, Finn continued to try and lighten up Sunflower's mood. Sitting in the car looking at the glasses wearing man, Sunflower smiled, happy they got at least a sane partner compared to their shitty ex.

[romana-after-dark]

Rooms on Fire: Losing My Religion

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna has to make a stand.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: Pretty standard tbh

3.6k words

A/N Please know tags have been spotty so check and make sure you're caught up!

"That's me in the corner That's me in the spot-light Losing my religion Trying to keep up with you And I don't know if I can do it Oh no I've said too much I haven't said enough I thought that I heard you laughing I thought that I heard you sing I think I thought I saw you try." ~Losing my Religion, R.E.M

“Will, take her.” Santiago orders Will, and the stronger man tries to take you away from where you cling to Frankie.

Frankie, however, steps away. “No! You aren’t taking her from me!” He looks back and forth between Will, Ben, and Santi. Through the silence, they can all here Iris wailing over Rey’s body in the kitchen. “You’re all fucking insane! None of you get her!”

Ben scoffs. “She doesn’t belong to you, Frank.”

“YES SHE DOES! She’s my WIFE!”

Will steps forward, taking a hand on your leg assertively, looking Frankie in the eyes. His dominance quells the room. “She’s my wife too, Frankie. Let me take her.” In a lower voice, he adds just to Frankie. “It’s gonna be easier if you just go, you know that. I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

Frankie glances at Santi, rage bubbling in him. Will was right. “Sent someone to get Rey’s body, help Iris move him. She’s… she’s not gonna wanna leave his body. We are not making her clean up his blood the way she did Jonah’s, got it?” Francisco rarely spoke this firmly… but he cared about Iris and he wanted Rey’s body respected.

“I will, I promise.” Frankie watched as you left the room in Will’s arms, crying into his chest.

*

Francisco was dragged down the halls, Ben trailing after then after being told to follow, Santi yanking along Frankie’s still-soar arm.

“Show down! Ow!”

“Shut the fuck up!” When they got to Frankie’s bedroom, Santi told Ben to stay outside until he was called. When the door closed, he delivered a crisp slap across Frankie’s face.

“Shit!” Frankie cried, holding his face and tasting blood.

Grabbing his shirt, Santi shoves Ben against the door, making sure Ben hears every Santi is doing to Frankie that he can’t stop. 

“Don’t you EVER disrespect me like that again!” He screams, slapping Frankie again and making his head lul to the side. “I AM YOUR GOD!”

Frankie shoves him back. “YOU”RE MY BROTHER! This whole thing is FUCKED Santi!”

Santi went for Frankie’s shirt, tearing at the fabric and buttons as Frankie tried to fight him off. There was a scuffle, slaps to faces and arms and chest before his shirt was pulled off him, showing the scars on Frankie’s arms. Scars that matched Santi’s. Neatly in a line, they were scabbed and new, bruising still around the wounds, each an inch or two long. Santiago pressed their arms together. 

“Blood brothers, Frank. Blood brothers. You were made for me, I was made for you, you know that, don’t you?”

Frankie winces at the memory, how Santiago laid him down with a knife, cut into their skin together until they bled. On a bed of blood they fucked, sealing their commitment to each other, or that’s what Santi thought the ritual meant. The whole time, Frankie tried to imagine it was Ben.

Santi didn’t let go of his arm, fingers tracing up and down the scarred skin, picking at a scab until it bled. “You’re mine, Frank. Certainly not Madonna’s. She’s here to have our child. And you’re not Ben’s either.”

His eyes went wide at that, going into defense. Deny, deny, deny, or Ben would be dead.

“Santi, no, we’re not- AH!” Santiago ripped the scab, causing blood to spill out.

“Don’t lie to me! I know you fuck him behind my back. Is that why you care so much about Saha? You fucking him too, just like Madonna?”

Bent over in pain holding his arms, Frankie looks up at Santi in anguish, tears in his eyes as he screams. “HE WAS MY FRIEND! HE WAS HERS! FOR FUCK SAKE SANTIAGO NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT SEX!” He stood up straight, speaking strong even as he cried. “He loved Iris! He loved Iris only and Ben killed him! That girl lost her father and now is sobbing because of her lover's dead body!”

Santiago scoffs. “That’s your fucking boy toy, not mine. I don’t control Ben.”

“That’s the problem! You and Beatri indulged his every whim, Will protected him from any consequence and now he’s a spoiled slut!”

“And what do you think you are? You live in comfort, in excess even, you get fucked by me, Ben, Will, even sliding your cock into Madonna’s little cunt for hours in those meadows because I allow it! You’re just a cockdumb, petulant child who's mad because the world isn’t perfect! You’re no better.”

Frankie locked his jaw, staring hard. “Yes, I am.”

When Santi closed in on him, Frankie braced for impact. Instead, when their bodies were crowded together, Santi simply opened the door. Ben sat there ont he floor, legs pulled up to his chest like a child whose parents were fighting, looking up at the door with wide blue eyes.

“You hear all that, Benny?”

Ben blinked, “Yeah.” He stands up, his long legs wobbly.

“Ben…” Frankie wanted to say he didn’t mean it, they were all fucked… but Rey’s blood still covered him. It was an odd sight on a boy who looked so young and innocent when he really wanted too. Or needed to.

Terror filled him, afraid Santi was going to hurt Benny, and despite just watching him kill a man in cold blood Frankie felt the need to protect him. He looked so much like that young underweight half-frozen boy in Will’s arms so many years ago. What happened to them all?

Instead of harming him, Santi beconned him in the room and kissed him so tenderly, Frankie hasn’t seen it since they were teens promising to be different from Beatriz. 

Ben made no effort to rebuff. He was taken aback at first of course, this was not the response they were expecting from him. He locked eyes with Frankie as Santi deepened the kiss, and narrows his eyes at his lover. Ben does not take kindly to being insulted. Arms snake around Santi’s middle, Ben grinding his cock against Santi’s stomach, moaning into his mouth. Frankie heard drops of blood drip from his arm into the wood floor. He needed to wrap it up. Instead, Santi told Frankie to get in the chair. 

*

It took everything in Santi to not watch Frankie watching them. To not see his face as he slid inside Ben’s asshole, to not see how much it pissed him off when he made the younger man moan as he sucked on a nipple. He didn’t need to look, however, because he knew, he knew just how badly it was angering Frankie, how it hurt him. Santi fucked Ben the way he knew Frankie liked, slow and tender, lots of kisses. He knew Frankie longed for those soft days so long ago, teenagers sneaking around, falling in love in closets and up in trees. Before Madonna came and fucked everything up.

That’s why they were made for each other. Raised together, brothers, as close and two people could get. From the craddle to the grave, Francisco Morales belonged to him. They were meant to be, their bodies were created by Beatriz to fit together, to bring each other pleasure. Frankie was his eve, the mother, the god of nature and fertility and-WHY COULDNT HE GET PREGNANT?!??!? None of this would have happened if Mother God had allowed them this, if he could fill his lover with his hot seed and create the savior Santiago couldn’t be. They could birth the savior together, Mary and Joseph, Frankie as the Madonna instead of that cunt causing all the problems. 

Santi was sure not to harm Ben, opening him up slowly as the boy moaned like a slut with his asshole clenching on Santi’s tongue, fingers poking their way inside in contrast to the way he liked to ram into Frankies cunt. 

Ben was so tender, so sensitive, his cockhead beat red and slick with precum as Santi slid his thumb around it. He repeatedly pulled back the skin, making Ben moan in wonton madness. He gave Ben the gentle love making he knew his Frank desired, the kind of soft touches Santi hadn’t been giving lately. No, ever since Madonna came he was ravenous. He didn’t like watching anyone inside Frankie, making exceptions on occasion for Will and Ben because he thought he could trust them.

Despite not being threatened or even ordered to watch, when Santiago turned to the chair he saw Frankie watching. santi knew Frankie liked to be watched, liked to be heard, so he wondered how being put as the watcher affected him. Frankie’s face was set into a hard glare, eyes red and burning with tears and his knuckles going white with clenched fists.

Still, his cock was hard in his pants.

*

You cried. And cried. And cried. 

Hysterics paused only long enough for Will to occasionally get some water in you as he held you close. It had been hours at this point, unsure what is happening to Francisco, what was happening to Iris, what would happen to Rey’s body.

Dead. He was dead. Your best friend was dead, Jonah was dead and Iris hated you. Everything was over now. You hold your stomach, realizing how disconnected you were from this baby in you. At month 7, there was a whole child and yet you felt like… like it was in you, not a part of you. There, not connected. You loved the baby, of course you did, you were its mom but… why didn’t you feel like it? Lately, you’d felt like you were just… here to do a job.

Eventually you calmed down, exhausted from the hysterics, and Will held you close to his chest. He calmed you down slowly, gentle hands brushing over your body. You could not fathom how the hands you’ve felt healing your body were the same as the fist that beat Jonah to death.

“Will?” You ask, listening to the beat of his heart. It was strong.

“Yes, my Madonna?”

“What happens now?” You couldn’t tell if he was pausing to think or in confusion, so you elaborate. “Jonah is dead. Rey is dead. I can never see Santi and Ben the same again-”

He sat up a bit to look at you. “You forgave Santi?”

Was Will really this naive? Really? Santiago had violently raped you, allowed your pregnant body to be burned and Will thought you forgave him? You and your baby could have died, and he thought you forgave him? Will was who you trusted. No matter what happened, you’d always trusted your Will, your smart handsome brave husband, your God of War and Medicine, your protection and your healing. 

You can hear Jonah’s voice in your head, begging you to have a shred of survival instinct, to trust your gut.

For the first time, you lie to him.

“I did…” You fib, just a little. “It’s just been a lot lately and… he did something bad. I just can’t forget all of that.”

He nods in understanding. “I get it…  I do.” His fingertips trail over your scarred skin. “To answer your question… I don’t know. I really don’t but… we’re married, we all love you and I know, I know Ben messed up today…”

Messed up? Ben killed your Rey, an innocent man. Your friend. Frankie’s friend. Dead and cut up on the kitchen floor where Iris, for all you know, is still sobbing.

You feel the walls coming up around Will. 

He continues. “But we’ll find a way to move on as a family.”

You were not a family with these people.

“Yeah, yeah okay.” 

*

Iris fell asleep on the floor, durk curls caking in blood as she rested on her lover's stabbed-open chest. It didn't matter. She wasn’t going to get up.

They won. Those fuckers won.

Santiago had beaten her into submission, cutting up parts of her she’d never had the chance to show Reyansh.

Ben raped her for years and years and year and Iris managed to hold on because she had Reyansh and to a certain extent Jonah. Jonah was disappointing, Jonah’s shortcomings were clear and she would never forgive what he tried to do to that poor girl, whatever it was, but the day he died she lost one more person.

But Iris wouldn’t clean up Reyansh’s blood the way she had to Jonah’s. She’d die here in his arms. If Ben wanted to touch her again, he could fuck her dead, rotting corpse. Iris doubted Ben would let anything as simple as death set her free.

*

When she woke up, she was being pulled away from Rey’s dead body. Iris screamed, but that didn’t matter to anyone anymore. Another few guards start pulling Rey’s body away, congealed blood dragging out from under him, and that’s when Iris started fighting. They couldn’t take him. They couldn’t have him. He was hers.

“I’m sorry.” The guard behind her said. Scott, a nice, naive young man. Many guards were loyal to Santi above all else, but Will held the most control. Still, Rey was well liked. With the exception of those who were hardcore true believers amongst the guard who knew Santi’s recent turn on Reyansh, Iris had no doubt they were, actually sorry. It didn’t change the fact she was being separated from her lover even in death.

*

“Just do what he says” Frankie tells Iris, hands planted firmly on her shoulders, eyes intently boring into hers. “He’s gonna fucking kill me for coming down here but Iris, you have to just do it.”

Her eyes burned with tears of anger as she stood near the door to the backyard, underneath the balcony. “What’s happening, Frankie.”

He closed his eyes a moment as he heard the door unlocking. “I can’t lose you too, Iris. Please. I need you with me. I don’t have Jonah, I don’t have Rey-”

“I don’t either!” Iris spat. “What makes you think I want to live after watching that?” It had been hours since she watched her rapist stab her Rey to death, powerless as Frankie held her back. Ben would have killed her too. Should have. 

“I need help! I can’t keep her alive alone, Iris! We have to be a team, for each other, for Madonna, for our ch-”

The door opened, Will bringing Madonna down with a guard. You looked awful. He hadn’t seen you since Will took you away, dealing with Santi’s shit… Blood was still on your nightgown.

“Madonna…” Frankie was no longer pleaded with Iris, went to hug his wife. Will instructed the guard not to harm Madonna in the slightest, and Iris appreciated Frankie’s addendum not to hurt her either, but Iris knew she was a second thought.

“Francisco, what’s happening?” Your hands pressed to his chest, looking up at him. 

Frankie told you the same thing he told her, to just do as we’re told and it would be okay. Iris had a sick, sick feeling. “Trust me.” He said, hugging her. He looked at Iris. “Please.” Then made his exit with Will. Iris heard crowds outside, and wondered what sick, perverted show Santi was going to make you do now? Would he make you hurt her? That was fine by Iris. 

You turned to her, those scared eyes chipping away at the ice in her heart. Iris knew you didn’t mean to get Rey killed, and blaming you for Jonah’s death was unfair and cruel… but she needed to be angry. 

“Iris…” You whimper, wet eyes trickling tears down your pretty face. You held your stomach in fear.

When the door opens, you and Iris are quickly ushered out into the courtyard where hundreds of people looked on. Taking in the scene, Iris heard your heavy breathing. What she didn’t need, was you having a panic attack… When she turned to see your horror stricken face, Iris couldn’t help feel that ice melt a little more. Fuck, you were young. 23, just a child. You deserved better. Iris took your hand.

But you were looking past her. “Iris…” You said with wide eyes. Iris turned around.

On the courtyard, Rey’s body was tied to an X on top of a funeral pyre, strung up and limp and lifeless. She felt sick to her stomach, turning up towards where the four wanna be gods sat upon their ivory tower, daring to look upon her love. She couldn’t read their expressions, but watched as someone lit the pyre. Reyansh’s body went up in flames.

Santiago spoke not to them, but to the crowd. “Reyash Saha is guilty of high treason! As is custom, those closest must dance as he burns. Not even the Madonna is above the will of Divine Mother.”

He emphasized those last words, Iris knew, to put you in your place. You weren’t a goddess to him, you weren’t his mommy dearest. You were a womb.

The music started up.

“DAAAANCE!!!!” He screamed down to you both, and as the smell of burnt flesh filled the yard, you began to dance. It was scared, it was erratic, it was for your life and the life of your child. Iris understood that fear. But she wasn’t going to dance. It’s been a while since the last public burning, 2 years, she thinks, but she’d been at plenty, danced in several. This is not how it was done.

Firstly, this was supposed to be execution. You didn’t burn dead bodies. If a traitor was dead already, the close family and friends were questioned but there was no grand show.

If this were a proper burning, there was a ceremony, there were prayers to Divine Mother, chants.

The yard would be filled with everyone the traitor knew. Most of the guardsmen would be here for Reyansh, the house laborers, townsfolk… not just trying to terrifying to women. If the Madonna isn’t above it, Francisco shouldn’t be either.

No, this was just a show for the girl.

“Iris!” You grab onto her. “You need to dance!” Your words were broken and desperte, but Iris shrugged you off. “PLEASE!” You sob, grabbing her hands to force her but Iris shoved you back.

“I WON”T BE MADE TO DANCE AS MY HUSBAND BURNS!”

“But-” You reach for her, but she slaps your hand away. If the guard cared about the abuse of the Madonna, they didn’t care. The music was too loud to hear even shouting.

“Tell me, is there anything in the world that could convince you to dance as Frankie burned?” The image horrified you, but you remained resolute.

“My baby! Please I know you can’t understand but I need you, I can’t lose anyone else- IRIS PLEASE JUST DANCE!” You scream, pulling on her.

Iris grabbed your shoulders, stopping you. “I’m pregnant too.”

You were frozen in stunned silence. “You… Rey…”

But Iris shakes her head. “I never had sex with him. Ben fucked everyone under the sun and I didn’t wanna chance giving him anything… But I told him, I broke down and told him… he’d figured it out.” Iris feels the tears coming, but forces them down. Don’t let them see you cry. Hadn’t she told you that before? “Rey said… said he’d raise it as his own. That he’d take me away and now he’s dead. And those men up there-” She pointed to the balcony. “Are why. I won’t tell you what to do, because you have your own child to think of, you are much further along, but me?” She pointed to her chest covered in Rey’s blood. “I refuse to give them anymore satisfaction. They cannot take my dignity. I simply won’t let them.”

*

Santiago watched from the balcony, smug as Madonna started dancing. Jesus she was pathetic. He expected Iris to not dance, giving him a reason to kill the brat finally. Maybe he’d take her for a little spin to see what Benny was so gunho about. But Madonna? Weak little thing like that had been trying to play big girl recently, acting tough, testing her boundaries like a fucking teenager and thinking her status protected her. It didn’t. But look at her now, dancing around as her best and probably only friend burned, just like she did, just like her paintings, just like her dad. 

It was amusing watching you try to save Iris. Your empathy was something that he was attracted to. You were sweet, he liked watching you paint. If you had behaved, he could have lived a whole life with you here with him, his Madonna, raising the savior for his roll… But no, you had to have a temper tantrum. You had to whore around as if 4 cocks weren’t enough. And yet, when it came time to really be brave…. You were like a little puppet on a string and he could toy with you as much as he-

What were you doing?

“Santi…”  Francisco tried to sooth as Santi’s knuckles turned white, gripping the balcony with a force as the sound of the music swelled around him. You stopped. Iris put her stupid fucking hands on you the way she put her stupid fucking hands on Ben’s body and tainted you. He watched with rage building inside. She was standing too fucking close.

“Will.” Santi barked, not taking his eyes off you two. Will was the most observant. Frankie could be naive and Ben wasn’t paying attention to most things. “Are they fucking?”

He swore he heard Will sigh. “No, Santi. Jesus fucking christ.”

Then they were conspiring against him. The two girls stilled completely. And then they turned around, looking up at him.

Santiago looked right back. They were fucking dead.

Okay!!! were so close to the end! I think it flashback chapter, then the finale might have to be split lololol.

Not a super eventful chapter, but I thought things needed to breathe before the last pieces. Still, I think enough is here to entertain!!

Thank you to everyone who has stuck through all the hiatuses. Ily!!!

If anyone is interested, I just finished my finale of Blessed Be the Fruit which took over a year for a short series. sorry ;-;

anyway its done!

Love you all soooooo much!

If you like Logan Howlett, check out my new series Be Quiet

Poll time!

LOVE YOU ALL!

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