#and he just laid there on them for a while

[dollwrites]

ᴅᴏᴏʀ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ʀᴀғᴀʏᴇʟ

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｔｙｐｅ ┊ goonette isekai! ( 7k follower event )

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ ┊ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, pwp, creampie, cum play, titty sucking, all characters featured are aged 18+

ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｔ ┊ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

Rafayel is a creampie addict.

whether it’s because he loves the way you look with his cum leaking out of your freshly fucked hole or because it’s his way of claiming your body, marking you as his mate, you didn’t know for sure. the only thing you could be certain of is, whenever he started to twitch and throb inside of you; whenever his balls drew up tight, and his ragged panting melted into a needy chanting of your name on a mindless loop, that he was going to cum inside you.

“Raf, ffffuck!” you crooned, breathless and undulating on the mattress beneath him. your back arched up from the surface to push your chest flush to his face, your right hand buried in his mauve tendrils so deep that you could feel the beads of sweat as they drench his scalp, and the heat of his fever transferring deep into your palm. you were gripping those sticky locks, holding on to them for some semblance of control as he rutted into you with wild abandon, his head dipped low to suck on your swell, whilst his hand fondled with other, his thumb mimicking the way his tongue flicked at your pebbled nipple, swiping over the taut flesh and nudging the little bud from every angle.

it was this lavishing of affection, paired with the rapid-fire, shallow pumping into your core, that had your eyes crossing with unadulterated pleasure, and your body trembling as you drifted closer and closer to a release. “I’m getting close, baby…” you half-plea, rocking your hips up to meet him in a sloppy, slick joining. if Rafayel was anything, he was a skilled lover. he knew that you didn’t need to be stuffed full on every occasion, and so he experimented with how many inches to fuck into you each time you laid together. tonight, though his thrusts were quick and greedy, he was only giving you half of his length at a time, letting the swollen, leaking tip of his cock head bully the spongy cluster of nerves that made up your g-spot until you were shaking and sputtering, instead of fucking you deep and steady.

“Yeah?” he asked upon prying his mouth away with a wet pop. his voice husky and low, and saliva glistening against the pink lower tier of his kiss-swollen couplet. his own complexion, though typically porcelain, had taken on a dusky, rosé glow, especially against the apples of his cheeks, the tips of his ears, and the expanse of his chiseled chest. his mouth, though still parted and panting out puffs of hot breath against your hardened nipple, curved into a strained smile as his eyes searched your countenance, equally lovedrunk. “Wanna cum with me, pretty girl?” he asked, his eyes darkened as he buries his face between the valley of your tits, breathing in the scent of the sweat oozing from your pores. his eyelids fluttered as he drank it in, like a man intoxicated, and you felt the warm, bumpy surface of his tongue flat against your flesh to lap at that essence. “Oh, fuck, tell me,” he murmured, muffled, as the lower quarter of his face disappears into your cleavage, but his eyes gaze up at you, the purple hues within them dim and stormy. “Tell me that you want me to make you finish while I cum in your warm, little pussy.”

you nod, eagerly, your voice breaking out of desperation as you tug on his hair, unsure of whether to pull him up to kiss his lips or smother him between your tits. “Y—yes, Rafayel! Please, make me cum with you!”

you’d hardly gotten the beg out before Rafayel was responding. sitting back on his haunches, he allowed almost every inch to slip from your clutching heat— until only his the bulbous head remained notched just beyond the threshold. you mewled at the lack of fullness in your depths, but your disappointment was soon replaced with pleasure. Rafayel allowed his hands, soft yet strong, to slip under your hips and drag your body close, until your bottom rested on the slope of his legs, keeping your lower half elevated on his lap. “C’mere, baby…” he breathed out, one hand splaying out against your lower belly, fingers stroking beneath your navel, allowing his thumb the reach he needed to paw at your clit in tight, concise circles. your own hands, that had initially reached out for him when he shifted positions, now fell back against the pillow your head rested on, fisting handfuls of it, unneeded, while Rafayel tended to your body. you moaned his name, your head tilting up so you were staring at the ceiling, brows furrowed, focusing wholly on his perfect ministrations.

“You look so cute like this,” Rafayel murmured, more to himself than to you, his free hand gripping the girth of his cock tight. he was still slick with your juices, and he used that to his advantage, pumping the exposed inches instead of plunging into you, to the rhythm same rhythm he assaulted your clit. the treatment elicits of moan from his parted lips, that bubbles up from deep within his throat. “— squirming and needy, chasing your high for me. Come on, pretty girl, cum on my cock for me.”

a few more encouraging words and Rafayel’s thumb running laps over your button is all that you need before you catch that orgasm you were so desperately chasing. you hear his voice, as soon as he saw you were about to be engulfed, whisper harshly, “Look at me,” and you were barely able to obey, your eyes flitting to his face just in time to glaze over. you maintained the unfocused eye contact, stars forming in your peripherals, and Rafayel doesn’t let up, coaxing you with furious strumming on your swollen clit to ride out the orgasm he’s giving you. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, knowing damn well the only response you could give him was a strangled yip and a half nod, his breathless smile widening, “Yeah? I know, baby, I know. I feel it, too. I’m cumming,” he growled, pumping himself erratically a few more times before he spilled himself inside you. warmth seeps in, spreads through your shallow core, and dribbles out in thick, streamers when Rafayel pulls his sated, softening cock from you. your cunt clenches, one last stitch effort to keep him anchored inside you, which ultimately pushes another rope of his creamy release out of your freshly-fucked body.

Rafayel sat back on his haunches for several moments, panting, with his twitching cock now draped, flaccid, over his sweat-sheened thigh, as he gazed down at his handiwork— his hands finding your trembling shape. he felt along the flare of your hips, up over your waist, his thumbs gently massaging the flesh there as he eased you out of your aftershocks with gentle fondling. “Come back to me, pretty girl, you’re so cute when you’re cumdrunk.” he murmured, drawing shapes over your heated flesh as he coaxed you back from the brink. his palms pressed against your sides, before careening downward, over your lower belly. “I left this pretty pussy all messy again, didn’t I?” he teased, applying enough pressure on your lower belly to force more of his cum to spill out of you and on to the sheets. you whimper at the sensation, your toes curled, and you nod. Rafayel only chuckles, angling his hand so his pointer and middle finger, slender and deft in their movements, can spread open your puffy netherlips. his breath, which had mostly recovered, left him in a soft, awed gasp as he admired the way his cum painted your folds, leaving them sticky and claimed. his cock twitches on his thigh. though hypersensitive, it jumped, as if waking up to the sight.

Rafayel sighs, rolling his eyes, acting as though the mere re-hardening of his cock was burdensome. “Can’t ever just go one time, can we?” he asked, sarcastically, quirking a brow as he stares up at you.

“You make it sound like it’s my fault,” you counter breathlessly, your hands finally unlatching from the pillow. your muscles are sore, but you run your fingers along the shape of his shoulders as he positions himself to take you again.

“Of course it’s your fault. You look too fuckable when you’ve got my cum oozing out of you.” Rafayel rasps, guiding his now-ready cock back into your sloppy hole. it slips inside easily, his cum frothing around it as he almost instantly falls back into his previous pace, bracing you in place when his hands grip the roundest part of your hips. “Fuck, yes…” he stutters a bit, pushing his cock deep enough to hilt it once, before dragging it out slow. you cry out; the nerves in your sex already heightened, so this new round of fucking feels almost statically-charged. his eyes list downwards, taking in the way his previous release cocktailed with your arousal coats his cock in rings as he pulls out, marking the depth of his thrust. “And besides, you take me in even better the second time.” he purrs with a contented sigh.

[simpforboys]

Frat!perv!manipulator!Rafe that finally gets a taste of topper’s dumb gf…

(Warnings: oral f receiving, manipulation, drunk/dubcon, cursing, praise, fingering, cheating)

series masterlist

Fuck.

Is all Rafe could think of when he saw you, wearing that white shirt that had your tits spilling out and showing off your tummy.

Not even mentioning that denim skirt you always seemed to wore. All he wanted to do was fold it up and dry hump the shit out of you like he did two weeks ago.

How was Topper such a lucky bastard?

You had a warm smile on your face, a red solo cup in your fingers as you giggled at something your boyfriend was drunkenly rambling on about.

It was a big party night at Outer Banks University, specifically for Alpha Sigma Phi. One where every frat guy got laid, except Rafe tonight. He couldn’t care less about the other girls’ eyes on him.

Not when your eyes weren’t on him.

Rafe was tipsy. He would prefer to be drunk, but he knew he should probably be somewhat aware of his actions. Especially since you were dressed so fucking deliciously.

As soon as Topper left your side, though, Rafe stalked over to you like a predator.

“Hi, sweetness.” He coos, blue eyes locked on your tits before flickering back up to that pretty face he’s so obsessed with.

“Hi, Rafey.” You drunkenly giggle, barely standing on your own two feet.

“Y’look like a mess, baby.” He teases, his big fingers moving to gently poke where the fabric of your shirt is exposing your soft tummy.

You squirmed a bit at the action, almost falling over. Which, Rafe clearly planned for, since his big arms caught you.

“Woah, y/n. Maybe I should take ya upstairs, huh? Back t’mine and Top’s room?”

He was acting like a concerned friend, but in reality, he wanted to get you away from all the prying eyes. Alone.

“Uhmm…” you just hummed unsurely, but didn’t protest when Rafe wrapped his arm around your waist and started guiding you through the crowded house, all the way upstairs into his and Topper’s shared bedroom.

He helped you slip your shoes off, your legs stumbling over to your boyfriend’s twin xl bed before Rafe’s big hands lifted your hips to set you down carefully on it.

“There ya go, good girl.” He murmurs softly, although his cock is painfully hard in his jeans.

“Thank you, Rafey.” You mumble out drunkenly, laying back on the mattress, angling your head so it’s not propped up against the wall while your hips still face the side of the bed.

“Anythin’ f’you, sweet girl. Y’know that.” He coos, his perverted eyes automatically drifting down to where your thighs are spread a bit, revealing a damp spot on your pretty panties.

“Oh, babygirl… look a’ya. All wet ‘n needy f’me. S’your boyfriend takin’ proper care o’ya?”

His thumb came over to start rubbing against your clothed clit, blue irises flickering back up to watch your face.

“A-ah, Rafey.” You mewl softly, lifting your head to watch with half-lidded eyes.

“Shhh, be a good girl f’me, yeah? Rafey s’jus’ helpin’ ya out.”

He gently grasps your thighs and pulls them to where he’s standing next to the side of the bed, fingers hooking into the cotton material of your panties as he tugged them down your legs.

You just laid back against the shitty mattress, mind spinning. But you trusted Rafe. He is your boyfriend’s best friend, after all.

Rafe almost came in his underwear at the sight of your drenched pussy. How long have you been left aching during the party? His poor girl.

He’s had so many wet dreams and fantasies about this moment, and it takes everything in him to not pull his own pants down and fuck you senseless on Topper’s bed while there’s a party downstairs.

But, somehow, he refrains as he spreads your thighs a bit more as he leans down a bit, resting his toned chest against the edge of the mattress.

“S’pretty… such a pretty baby.”

You went to respond, brain fuzzy from alcohol. But then a warm, wet tongue met your bare clit, and the only thing that escaped you was a soft moan.

“Fuckkkkk…” Rafe grunted, already leaking precum in his boxer briefs just from his tongue flicking out to sample your hardened bud.

Just the little taste already had him even more addicted.

He couldn’t help himself, he’s been fucking his fist to this thought for months. His mouth latches onto your drenched cunt, tongue swiping through your folds and over your clit.

“R-Rafe!” You cry out, fingers digging into your boyfriend’s sheets.

“Shh, sweet girl. Shut up.”

He lifted two fingers and slid them through your parted lips, your mouth instinctively starting to suck on the long digits. His cock twitched at the sight and he let out a small moan against your pretty pussy.

He watched you suck on his fingers for a minute before he reluctantly pulled them out, a string of saliva connecting your lips from his soaked digits.

“Good girl, baby. Such a good girl f’Rafey.” He praises softly, his middle and ring finger gently sliding into your quivering hole.

“A-agh…” was all that left you, unable to form words in your drunken, pleasure-filled mind.

He swore under his breath again, watching how your greedy cunt swallowed his fingers. He looked back up at you as he began to slowly slide his fingers in and out, his tongue moving back to slide circles around your throbbing clit.

You were panting, back arching, hips bucking. All for him.

“Such a sweet cunt, babygirl. Knew I called ya sweetness f’a reason.”

He crooks his fingers against that spongy spot inside of your walls, his own stomach feeling warm when he heard you whimper out.

“Rafey…”

Rafe felt like such a fucking loser, because all it took was you moaning his name before he’s cumming in his underwear, sensitive cock completely untouched.

“Shittt, y/n. G’nna let m’eat this pussy whenever I want?” He practically whimpers.

Your tummy was feeling tight as the pleasure was getting overwhelmingly good, better than any time Topper tried to eat your cunt.

He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your eyes squeezed shut, pretty lips parted.

“Cum f’me, sweet girl. Cum all over Rafey.”

His command was enough to send you over the edge, soft mewls and noises leaving you as your body trembled for a good ten seconds.

Which sent Rafe into another orgasm, his underwear and jeans completely ruined from his sticky, leaking cock.

And Rafe has never been able to cum without getting any friction on his dick before, but here you were, making him cream himself twice back to back while he ate you out.

“S’good… S’good.” He coos softly, lapping up your release, his own legs shaking a bit.

He was feeling overwhelmed, beyond grateful his chest is leaning against his best friend’s bed.

You let out another little whimper when he pulled his fingers out of your cunt, your eyes still fluttered shut.

Rafe sucked on his own fingers, feeling his dick twitch again at your addictive taste.

And there was no way Rafe was going to be able to last much longer before he fucked your perfect cunt.

[st7rnioioss]

Was skater!chris the one to take shy!readers virginity? and if so how was the experience?

SKATER!CHRIS AND GIRLY!READERS FIRST TIME

⋆ ˚ .ೃ ࿔ * pairing... skater!chris x girly!reader

𓂃 ֹ ᮫ in which... skater!chris and girly!readr both lose their virginity, and this is how it went!!

warnings... smut, protected sex, kissing, swearing, loss of virginity (m and f)

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ the room was quiet and filled with an indescribable tension, your fingers carefully looming over chris’s bare chest, as if you had never touched him like that before. your head rested against the pillow behind your head, chris’s body resting between your legs with both hands on either side of your head.

he was close, really close. your breaths interlaced, heavy and hot with need. you two usually never went here—both virgins. but you knew you wanted it, and so did he. it happened naturally too, starting out as a slow kiss, and before either of you knew it, you were both shirtless.

his eyes had been staring into yours for far too long, but neither of you cared, too lost in each other. “do.. do you really want to?” you mumbled when one of his hands ran down the side of your face, eventually toying with the strap of your bra.

chris nodded slowly, pursing his lips for a moment. “yeah. i’m ready.. are you?” he whispered back, his tone soft and honey-like, driving you crazy. you nodded as a reply, and he nearly didn’t even get to smile at you before his lips attached to your neck, leaving a gentle kiss.

“we’ll take it slow, dollface.. right?” his breath fanned over your skin, and again, all you could do was nod and let out a soft ‘yes’. his arms wrapped around you to pull you closer, trapping you between his chest and the mattress underneath the two of you, his fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra while nibbling on your neck.

“wha- what the fuck,” he chuckled when he couldn’t get it open, his head dipping up from your neck to let go of you, looking down at you with a shy smile. confused, you laughed along with him, furrowing your brows. “w-what’s wrong?” he laughed again, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “can you take that off..? you’ve got like.. a fuckin’ rubik’s cube or somethin’ back there,” he nervously said, pointing at your chest.

you tried, but failed, to hold back a giggle, reaching for the back of his neck to pull him closer, kissing as his face. “hey, don’t worry. i can hardly get it off myself..” you smiled, one hand reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. “wanna do the honors?” chris nearly beamed when you asked, carefully running his fingers up your arms before reaching for the straps, bringing them down your shoulders.

the same silence as earlier fell between you, your chest now exposed and bare, just like his. chris’s eyes roamed over you, throwing your bra somewhere amongst the rest of the clothes lying in a pile on the floor, his eyes respectfully trying not to stare too much. “y-you’re really beautiful,” he spoke nervously, his fingers roaming over your torso carefully. you didn’t say anything, your face just turned an obvious shade of red before you pulled him closer to you, his lips attacking your collarbone.

“thank you,” you spoke up when he was out of sight, threading your digits through his hair while his teeth and lips dragged over your soft skin. his mouth still on your skin, his fingers reached for your panties. “is this.. is this okay, doll?” his words were muffled, but you paid no mind to it.

“yea. k-keep going..” you whined, pleasure coursing through you when his soft and gentle lips sucked marks into your neck, along with his fingers dragging down the damp fabric of your panties.

you gasped as you laid bare on chris’s bed, arms around his neck while he kissed the life out of you. “ch-chris, i need you..” a pathetic whimper tugged on your lips when his hardening bulge brushed against your core, the friction just not enough. he nodded slowly, letting his glistening lips slip from your chest. “o-okay.. just- tell me if we gotta slow it down a bit, angel.” he smiled softly and comforting, letting his hands go of you to tug his sweatpants down.

your eyes intently watched as his boxers went down too, flickering back to his face when already leaking cock was right in front of you. “o-oh my god,” your breathed, too shy and honestly scared to look at him, just the idea of having that inside of you making your skin crawl with both desire and anxiety. chris took notice, immediately grabbing your hands. “hey, wait- it’s okay.. w-we don’t have to go.. like, you know.. all the way in.” his gently cooed, brushing his knuckles over your cheek while your wide eyes stared up at his. “it’ll be okay.. as long as you’re ready. j-just uhh… i forgot where i put the condoms, wait a minute i’ll find them-“.

his words seemed to calm you down a whole lot, because suddenly a couple minutes passed, and the stretch of his cock was stroking just the right spots inside of you with every deep thrust, his fingers squeezing the sheets up in his fist. “h-hoooly shit.. y-you take me so good, you’re so beautiful,” you whined at his words, desperately holding onto his shoulders for a sense of support as all your self respect went right out the window. you wanted, no you needed more, carving your fingernails into his skin.

“please, oh my god! i- i need more, please christopher,” your nails ran down his back, scratching red trail marks down his ‘in utero’ tattoo. chris groaned loudly when you moaned for him to give you more, his inexperience making his head stir for a second before jerking his hips a little harder and faster.

“is t-this good? m’sorry i can’t, i can’t hold on for much longer, angel-“ he whimpered, trying his best to keep up, but he failed from how each push of his hips was sloppier than the last. “it’s okay- don’t worry, it- oh gosh, right there!” chris nearly couldn’t believe his ears from just how vocal and loud you were being, much a contrast to your usual timid and shy self—not that he was complaining. quickly, his slender fingers moved to experimentally rub circles on your swollen clit, your chest arching up into his at the touch all while he kept the pace you seemed to like.

both your bodies were sweaty and warm, prickling with need and electricity as you moved against each other. his fingers on your clit seemed to make you snap, nearly drawing blood on his back from just how hard you were holding onto him. “j-jesus christ, i’m gonna cum chris- oh!” a few thrusts later you were a mess, squeezing around his dick when the band in your tummy snapped, his own orgasm conveniently hitting him at the same time.

chris slumped against you, his arms going to wrap around your body while his head went to rest on your heaving chest. “that… definitely wasn’t too bad.. at all.” you panted, shaking your head with a light chuckle when he spoke. “no.. it’s was okay.”

chris raised a brow at you, his head lifting to look at you, his expression teasing but perplexed. “just okay? what happened to ‘oh my god, right there! christopher!’ well just forget about that or..?” he mocked you, but not in a hurtful way. one that made your stomach hurt from laughing, face turning beet red in embarrassment while you giggled between your words. “oh my god, would you shut up!”

more skater!chris x girly!reader here!

˚𝜗𝜚 notes... to that one anon who said that theyre soo innocent but lowkey freaky too.. i thought of you. anyway, this shit is lowkey aaasss i'm sorry

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��❛ © 𝐒𝐓𝟕𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ❜❜

[steviewashere]

Hey, you know how in one of the Stranger Things books/comics, Nancy is said to have dressed up as an elf for one of the D&D campaigns Mike had?

What if...now hear me out...

Steve, very politely, asks Nancy for them. He doesn't explain why. Just tells her that she's definitely going to get them back. (No she won't.) But he wants them to use in the bedroom.

He finds one of Eddie's journals strewn about in his room, nestled tight between the wall and his dresser, something obviously to never be found. But Steve finds it because he just sees it there. Gets a little too curious.

Inside, are tens and tens and tens of pages worth of some sort of little fiction piece. About Edward Munson, knight of the land, coming to rescue an Elven prince from the dungeon. It involves handcuffs and a blindfold...somewhere in there is about the elf getting freed...and then they have "soft dungeon sex" with very detailed images of this handsome Elven prince (a guy that looks strangely similar to Steve) having the most romantic, passionate, dare Steve say tender sex—Edward (who is obviously Eddie) is laid back on the floor, stripped down to his under garments, a big hand nestled in his curls, the other hand holding tight to his calloused palm. They're merely frotting, little lines around their hips designating the delicate rolls they do with said hips, but there's a certain way they hold to each other. As if they're reuniting after they thought they wouldn't see each other again.

It's so warming, so beautiful, Steve can only think, how can I do that?

And then he remembers the elf ears, the ones he found while Nancy picked an outfit for Robin. He knows exactly what he has to do.

He's going to roleplay/recreate the—what must be—Eddie's high school wet dream. Even if he has to learn a bit of Elvish to do so, Steve wants so badly something that tender.

They're not even dating.

[beloveds-embrace]

Hi! This is just a weird scatterbrained thing I thought of when reading a fanfic earlier but what if the 141 are mafia bosses or something like that and readee is a singer at a local nightclub who’s seen as “an angel in hell” because she is a very kind and gentle person? Bonus points if the 141 are thought of as demons or something

I love this omg, i hope this is good enough!

The air in the club was thick; cigarette smoke curling into the dim, golden glow of the chandeliers, mingling with the scent of expensive liquor and leather. Conversations were hushed, spoken in low tones that carried the weight of power and danger. Every soul in the room was either a player in the game or a pawn waiting to be sacrificed.

And then, there was you.

When you stepped onto the stage, the entire club seemed to pause, as if the world itself held its breath. Dressed in satin and sequins, you were a vision of something untouchable, something lovely and pure. The first note of your song sent a shiver through the crowd, your voice a haunting melody that wrapped around every patron like silk, drawing them in, commanding their attention without force- only with the beauty of your voice.

The regulars called you an angel in hell. A voice too soft, too kind for a place like this.

And yet, you stayed; you had to.

The debt loomed over your head like a guillotine, one you hadn’t even accrued yourself but had been forced to shoulder. At least the club paid well- well enough that, one day, you might finally be free. Until then, you sang for sinners, devils draped in tailored suits and bloodstained rings, and your wings stayed clipped.

And of all those devils, none were more infamous than the four men sitting in the private booth overlooking the stage.

They weren’t just criminals; they were legends. Demons in human skin, just as you were an angel in hl. The kind of men who could decide a person’s fate with a flick of their wrist, who could burn entire empires to the ground if it suited them.

You felt their eyes on you. They always watched.

They weren’t the only ones. Every night, men in the club tried to claim your attention, but none dared approach when they were in attendance. Because despite the way they ruled with violence, despite the fear they instilled- when it came to you, they were different.

Possessive.

Protective.

No one dared touch what they had silently claimed, even if you didn’t know that; didn’t know how many men had been warned- some with words, others with something more final.

Didn’t know that the reason your walk home had always been quiet and safe was because there was always a shadow watching, ensuring no one followed.

Didn’t know that the few men who had been foolish enough to try and corner you had disappeared, bodies dumped where no one would ever find them.

Didn’t know that in the private booth, as they watched you perform, they spoke of you as something already theirs.

“She’s got no business being here,” Gaz muttered, watching as you moved off stage, offering smiles and quiet words to the club staff. “Too soft for this life.”

“Too good.” Soap agreed, knocking back his drink- even if it did nothing to soothe how parched for you he felt.

“She’s got a debt,” Price said, rolling his cigar between his fingers. It was simply a reminder, as they all already knew your reasons for being here- and staying here. They’d simply ensured no one would bother you while you attempted to get your life back together. “That’s why she’s still here.”

Ghost’s voice was a low rasp when he spoke, eyes narrowed on where he could see you finally disappear from view, going backstage. “Debt or not, she’s not going anywhere near the wrong people.”

“She doesn’t even realize…”

“No,” John nodded his head. “And she won’t.”

Their eyes followed as you disappeared behind the velvet curtain, completely unaware of the devils who had already laid claim to their angel- to you. Tonight, you had sang for them once more, and was thus their angel, and their songbird.

[acourtofchaos]

YOU CAN HOLD MY HAND IF NO ONE'S HOME | Sirius Black x F!Reader

Summary: When you aren't as good at hiding your relationship as you both think you are. [Fluff. 3.6K]

Warnings: Hidden relationship, very soft sirius, a little suggestive, typical mischief from the other boys

A/N: This is a re-write of a fic I wrote years ago for a character I no longer write for and I thought it'd be cute to turn it into a Marauders fic instead of getting rid of it :)

You woke to warmth.

To streaks of golden morning light that spilled from the windows and left glowing lines across bare legs that were hopelessly tangled with anothers.

There were soft puffs of breath stirring your hair at the crown and the faint smell of smoke and spice tickling your nose with every slow inhale you took in sync with the rising chest you found yourself buried against.

Your face pressed so deeply into the column of his throat that your lashes brushed the skin there when your eyes finally fluttered open.

And yet he tried to pull you even closer when you yawned and pressed your hands to his stomach in an attempt to shuffle yourself back, strong arms winding tight around your waist and the soft scrape of barely-there stubble over your forehead as he dipped his chin and planted a lazy kiss there.

“Don’t go yet.” He rasped, voice low, sleep-thick. "Want to hold you a bit longer before you go rushing off.”

You melted a little at that, your own apologetic kiss laid to the hollow of his throat before you pulled back to meet his sleep-warmed gaze.

Fingers stroking through the mess of his hair like you could soothe away the discontent that grew in both of you when you thought about having to leave his arms, his flat, pretending all the while that you hadn’t created a home for yourself in both.

Because that’s how things were between you and Sirius - how they had to be when this thing between you was a secret kept from the other three most important parts of your lives.

You’d decided together that they couldn’t know yet - Remus, Peter and James.

It was just still so new.

There would be too much pressure.

James and Remus were protective to an almost alarming fault and Peter would probably have a quiet panic attack over the possibility everything could go wrong. The boy who despised even the slightest arguments amongst his friends, fretting himself into an early grave at the thought of being forced to choose a side should it all fall apart.

It made sense to keep things between them until things felt more solid, less fragile than this sweet, tender thing you both held in your hands right now.

There was just times, this moment being one of them, where you wanted nothing more than to say fuck it and let them find out if it meant you could stay in Sirius’ arms that little bit longer.

And he was clearly thinking the same.

For when you stretched and tried to roll to the side, he followed. Catching the hand that had been reaching for your phone before luring it back and pressing it into the mattress whilst he rose above you.

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” He grinned, a little drunk with pride when you shivered lightly before throwing him a rather adorably unconvincing glare.

“We’re supposed to be meeting the others for breakfast and I still need to go home and change.” You huffed lightly, arching a challenging brow when he made no move to let you go. “Unless you want them asking why I’m in the same clothes I wore to the pub last night.”

Your words made his eyes spark, his voice turning silken as he leaned down, lips purposely avoiding your own and trailing tantalisingly slow over the line of your jaw.

“And if they did? What would you tell them, hmm?” He taunted, murmuring. “Would you make up some flimsy excuse like you did last night - let them keep thinking that you're so innocent and sweet, that you don't lie about headaches just so I can get you home and devour you sooner.”

“Are you forgetting we all grew up together?” You laughed breathlessly, loud in the otherwise silence of the room before it caught in your throat as Sirius nipped at your ear. “They already know I’m hardly what you call innocent.”

“Not like I do.”

You groaned when his teeth found your shoulder as he pulled at the collar of your t-shirt, sinking down until you arched like a bow against him before sweeping his tongue across the newly made mark.

You were clinging to him now, fingers buried into the warm skin of his ribs and every thought about getting up and leaving began to drift away like smoke in the wind when he raised his chin, smile sinful, teasing, to watch you as he rolled his hips into yours.

“Jesus, Sirius.” You breathed, an unbidden plea, and he sank down into you to kiss you then. All slow, soft heat as he indulged you, arms caging you in, gentle hands cupping your cheeks.

It made your blood catch light and your heart ache, your head dizzy with each brush of his tongue against yours whilst your skin grew warm and tingly from his body pressed flush against you - the sunlight that poured over you both when the sheets slipped away as you wove your legs around his waist.

A quiet moan slipped from you when he sucked at the pillow of your bottom lip and there was almost another as he drew back to look at you - all darkened eyes, ruffled hair and kiss-bruised lips.

“You make the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, voice a little awed whilst his thumb scraped over the arc of your cheekbone.

You grinned, something sweet and golden blooming beneath your ribs that made you glow from the inside, the air feeling warmer as you turned your head to mouth a tender kiss to his wrist. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He murmured, dropping his head to nudge his nose against yours when your gaze was back on him once again. “Everything about you is so ridiculously pretty, you’re killing me expecting me to just let you leave when you look like that.”

His hand found the edge of your shirt, fingers toying with a hole in the worn fabric before they slipped under to splay across the smooth skin of your belly, his thumb stroking small circles that dipped teasingly beneath the waistband of your underwear.

He watched as your breath hitched, as you shifted beneath him like you were trying to to push further into the press of his hand and then he suddenly leaned back. Eyes twinkling and lips parted before they quirked into a smug grin.

“Speaking of which - isn’t this my shirt?”

Shit.

You'd hoped he wouldn't realise that you'd snatched up one of his when redressing last night. Choosing to forgo your own that was nestled among a few other things of yours in the draw he'd cleared out for you.

There was something about being wrapped up in a shirt that smelled like him, that you swore still managed to hold the heat from his skin despite however long had passed since he wore it.

It felt like safety and comfort.

It felt more like home than any of the dozen places you had given such a title to over the years. And you craved it.

You thought Sirius understood. That he saw it in your face and the flash of nerves in your eyes that stealing his clothes was a step too far too soon, because even when you shrugged, when you tried your best to sound casual and lie that you couldn't find your own, his smile only got wider. Sweeter.

There was a new warmth in his eyes as he tugged at the hem again.

"Yeah?" He asked, grinning brighter than any star in the sky. "Well fuck, gorgeous, maybe I should start hiding all your clothes if it means getting to see you in mine. Looks so much better on you."

A bubble of laughter rose from your chest - bright and airy with relief and something impossibly tender for the boy above you. You wanted to draw him down, kiss him until you were both breathless and drunk from it and feel him press so deeply into you that it would be impossible to tell where one you ended and the other began.

You would have done it if it wasn’t for the sharp ring of a message alert sounding from your phone, the shrill of it puncturing the sticky-sweet haze you’d both slipped into making you flinch.

There was a pout on Sirius’ lips when you nudged at him, your hand a firm and constant obstacle when he still tried to chase your mouth with his own before giving up and falling back into the sheets with a dramatic huff. Hiding his smile with mock offence at the sound of your chuckle.

You bit your lip as you raised yourself up on your elbows and looked at him.

The lazy way he draped himself back, all smooth, tattoo-littered skin against black cotton sheets, grey sweats slung low on his hips and his hair wild from where your fingers had tangled desperately within it. He caught you staring and his lips spread into another shit-eating grin, his tone full of taunt when he winked at you. “You gonna get that or just keep staring at me like you want to fu–”

He spluttered when the pillow crashed into his face, choked laughter erupting from his throat whilst you huffed and rolled your eyes before snatching the phone from the bedside table.

And then they went wide.

Panic flooding through your gut as you attempted to fling yourself to your feet only to get your foot caught in the sheets, flail, and nearly end up in a heap on the floor.

You caught yourself at the last minute, a hand thrown to the wall when you stumbled before searching the room for your jeans.

“James and Remus are on their way here. Right now.” You told a confused looking Sirius, whose gaze swiftly changed from concerned to a disappointed understanding, his body frozen right where he’d frantically risen, arms open and outstretched to catch you if you had fallen. “They asked if I’m nearly at the cafe because they’re on their way but stopping to pick you up first?”

“Shit, yeah, I completely forgot.” He muttered, passing a weary hand over his face before he slipped from the bed after you and in search of a shirt for himself. “They offered because my bike is still in the garage.”

You nodded absentmindedly, eyes still darting along the floor before you spied your jeans partially hidden beneath Sirius’ clothes from the night before, all pooled together from where you’d tumbled into his room, mouths desperate on the others and hands a little too greedy to feel skin to take notice or even care where the things you were wearing landed.

He snorted at the way you lunged for them, the little cry of aha! when you lifted them triumphantly before bending to shove your legs inside them. “I’m just gonna have to go like this.” You huffed and Sirius had to bite down a wild groan when you straightened.

Between your sleep-roughened hair and kiss-swollen lips, the tight jeans and his shirt that, when the collar shifted ever so slightly, showed a brief glimpse of the pretty marks he’d left on your skin. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this breakfast with his sanity intact. “...let's just hope they don’t recognise the shirt.”

He swallowed hard, shook his head in a daze both in an attempt to reassure you and to rid himself of the feverish need that was rapidly bleeding through his veins once more. “They won’t, it’s not one I ever wore that much.”

And yeah, maybe that was a lie.

But he didn’t want to mention that it had once been one of his favourites and have you decide that wearing it wasn’t worth the risk.

Not when the sight of you in it had something akin to possessive wonder coiling in his chest every time he looked at you, infusing his bones and making his heart swell with it. Racing to an impossible rhythm, a delirious beat of mine, mine, mine.

There was another chirp from your phone and you quickly glanced at it whilst Sirius distractedly rummaged through his drawers, cursing as you located your shoes and yanked them on before reaching for him. “I have to go.” You rushed out, fingers curling around the nape of his neck to drag him into a too brief kiss, his lips only just beginning to part over yours when you pulled back and tried to dash towards his bedroom door.

Only, before you could take another step his hand found itself wrapped around your wrist and then he was tugging sharply, reeling you back into his arms so his mouth could descend upon yours once again - hot and messy. More than a little starved for the taste of you.

And despite yourself you melted, humming happily before you felt him smile against you and the corners of your lips tugged up into one to match. “Sirius, I’ve got to go.”

You laughed when his hand curled around your hip to pull you closer. His voice muffled but no less cheeky when he countered. “Just getting it out of my system before I have to endure the torture of being surrounded by our friends whilst pretending that I don’t want to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you whilst you're wearing my shirt.”

Your thighs clenched together at that, cheeks warming as you imagined it. Without meaning to your fingers tightened their grip in his hair, the hand that had rested over his heart curling until your nails bit into his skin and you had to catch yourself as your hips subconsciously rocked against him.

It made him grin like a devil, even more so when you swore, his eyes gleaming with heat, mischief when you flexed your hand straight and pushed yourself away from him.

He let you go without a fight to finally pull his shirt on and chuckled, low and rough, when your narrowed eyes tracked over the tempting fit of it before flicking back to his. “You’re an absolute menace, Black”

“Only for you, doll.”

You snorted at that and turned, still grinning like an idiot when you swung his door open before you screamed in shock. Your hand flying to your chest to cover the place where your heart slammed frantic against your ribs.

Sirius was by your side in an instant, his body surging past yours in a blur to place you behind him, expression hard and dangerous before it morphed into stunned surprise. His brow furrowing and mouth dropping open.

Because at his breakfast table sat James and Peter. Both of them never looking more delighted with themselves than they did in that moment with laughter in their eyes and bright ‘gotcha’ smiles spread wide across their handsome faces.

Remus was busying himself with pulling groceries out of a bag but you caught the way he glanced between both yours and Sirius’ disbelieving expressions before hiding his face, grin soft and his shoulders shaking.

There was a moment of silence where all of you just stared at each other and then both you and Sirius spoke at the same time.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Did you seriously just let yourselves into my flat and sit waiting for us to come out?”

It was James that answered.

Like he’d been bursting with impatience for one of you to ask just so he could, his fingers tapping impatiently against the solid wood of the table before he pointed to you.

“What’s going on is that you’ve been lying to us and now you’ve been caught red handed.” He smirked, entirely too amused by the way you couldn’t even hide your guilty expression before he turned to Sirius and shrugged. “And you gave us each a key.”

Sirius scoffed at that, snarking. “Yeah, for emergencies, Prongs, not to be cr–”

“So you don’t want coffee then.” Remus interrupted mildy, lifting one of the steaming cups from beside him without looking up from where he was setting things up for your apparent breakfast. A spread of pastries and fruits, jams, fresh bread, bacon and eggs and sausages all lined up for him to cook whilst you slowly processed what you had just walked out to.

And just like that Sirius lost some of his guarded edge. He still watched them all and then you with calculating eyes, assessing the situation, looking for hints of discomfort before he softened completely and trudged forward to take the drink, then a second, from Remus whilst you sank into the chair besides Peter.

You expected it to feel awkward but it wasn’t.

There was no anger or accusation from the boys, only curiosity and something soft like joy when they observed the way Sirius drew immediately back to you, one hand placing your drink in front of you and the other resting gently at the back of your neck to let you know he was there.

They hadn’t done this with any other intent but to let you know that everything was fine. That you didn’t have to worry about things changing or them thinking any different of either of you because they would always be happy with whatever you decided as long as it was what made you happy.

And with that knowledge you fully relaxed, easing back into Sirius’ touch. You took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of the coffee, the bacon that hissed and smoked when Remus placed it in the pan and after a large gulp of your drink you turned to the curly haired boy across from you and nudged his leg with your toe. Smiling when his lips quirked and he nudged you back.

“Go on then.” You sighed with a grin, “Where did we mess up - what gave us away?”

James laughed, his features boyish and light with it. “Take a wild guess.” He joked and when you didn’t answer, blinking at him in confusion, he looked at you for a beat, then two, and then at his friend on the other side of the table, shaking his head with amusement. “I told you it looked like they hadn’t even realised what they’d done.”

You glanced at Sirius who looked just as clueless as you, racking your brain for such a memory and coming up with nothing.

“You kissed right in front of us.” Peter finally explained with a quiet chuckle. “Well, it was at the bar - which we had a pretty good view of.”

It hit you then. A little soft and fuzzy around the edges but you could remember Sirius’ hand resting on your hip, the way he'd tucked you tighter against him to avoid getting jostled at the busy bar and it had been second nature. A reflex almost.

You had looked up at him with a sweet smile and the moment you had tilted your chin he hadn’t even thought to deny you, pressing a warm kiss to your lips and then another to your forehead that had made your heart flutter.

You opened your mouth and then shut it again, pressed your palm to your lips to smother the laughter that bubbled up - bright and delirious.

You had both thought you had been so subtle only to discover you couldn’t have been more hopeless at hiding your relationship if you had tried. There was a twinkle in Sirius’ eyes when you turned again to find him watching you, an undisguisable fondness when you reached out and gently punched his arm.

“This is your fault.” You accused, teasing. “You kissed me.”

“And you didn’t stop me.” He winked, far too pleased at the fact to even consider defending his lack of restraint when it came to you.

Before you could argue there was a snort from the other side of you and you twisted to catch James rolling his eyes, an indulgent grin on his face even as he complained. All faux wretchedness and almost enough drama to rival Sirius. “Good god, I don’t think I can handle you both suddenly being this lovey dovey. I think I preferred being in the dark about this.”

It made you laugh when Peter responded before you were able, an immediate quip that had the brunette blushing wildly when he mentioned how he’d rather see this than what he used to innocently walk into in the dorms whenever James had Lily over.

There was warmth in your chest - a champagne fizz type of happiness - when it turned into a competition of swapping embarrasing stories and the room filled with bickering voices and radiant bursts of laughter, when Sirius drew his chair closer and tugged you into his side, fingers drawing lovely, sweeping patterns on your shoulder whilst his voice joined the chaos.

You beamed at Remus, who appeared at your side to place a plate of food in front of you, a little mix of everything that you liked that immediately had your stomach growling.

He returned your smile immediately, eyes crinkling with affection when you thanked him, before he ruffled your hair like he had ever since he had taken you under his wing the first time you met so many years ago.

Forever the protective older brother that somehow turned into a scolding mother the second Sirius dared to reach over with the intent of snatching a piece of bacon off your plate.

There was a flash of metal, a string of colourful curses from your boyfriend when the handle of the fork Remus had been about to pass you rapped across the knuckles of the offending hand.

“Hands off, Pads, you bloody animal. Didn’t you ever learn manners, jesus."

“Me? What about you? You break into my house, hijack my kitchen, and then try to nearly crack a bone over a slice of bacon. Where are your fucking manners, Moony?”

You zoned out the bickering in favour of tearing a chunk of still warm pastry and popping it in your mouth, startled when James’ foot gently kicked yours beneath the table.

His eyes were bright and full of mischief behind his glasses when you frowned at him and you nearly choked when he pointed the coffee-foam covered end of his wooden stirrer at your chest.

"So considering you were still trying to keep it a secret before we surprised you, how did you plan on explaining the shirt?” He crowed. “Because I could swear Pads has one just like it.”

[lilghostiequinni]

Coming Home to You

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Girlfriend!female reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy, None

Summary: He can never wait for a weekend without you to come home to you.

Requested: NO / yes

Lando seemed a little peeved at media duties after the race, even though he won said race.

Which usually isn't abnormal, but also isn't normal.

It really depended on the weekend and the factors of that weekend.

One large factor was whether you were there, in the garage, or in the paddock. Even the hotel.

He wasn't happy doing media duties when you were there in the hotel, cause he just wanted to get back to you as fast as he possibly could.

But this weekend, you were not here; you had made plans with some friends, and your friends made plans and dragged you along.

You weren't even in Monaco, well not until about two hours ago.

Your friends dragged you to Portugal for a surprise girls' trip.

You protested the girls' trip, knowing the weekend was important to Lando and knowing that you had a feeling about this weekend, that it would be special.

So, Lando just wanted to go home and cuddle up to where there was no space between the two of you, and you couldn't tell where one stopped and the other began.

He just wanted to go home and sleep for hours, days.

He just wanted to rest, to put away the social media and hide away with you in your home.

There was nothing you wanted more than to go to him from the moment you landed in Portugal, but your friends guilt-tripped you into staying until at least Sunday morning.

You did, though you did get an earlier flight than what you told your friends, and you waited for him in your apartment, watching him as he raced around to track to win.

You had fallen asleep while waiting for Lando to come home, and you woke up, still on the couch and with Lando on top of you, face nestled in your chest and arms around your waist.

You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to either fall back to sleep or wake yourself up more and also wake up Lando.

When you stopped almost back to sleep, your hand stopped moving and Lando spoke up, "Don't stop." He mumbled to you.

You smiled at him and moved your fingers, but then tapped him on the arm to let you go. You wanted to go back to sleep, but your body wanted to use the bathroom.

Lando, having laid on top of you many times for a few years, knew that you needed to pee.

After you got up, he did too, going to the kitchen to grab the bouquets he got you on his way home.

It became a tradition; if you stayed in Monaco or you weren't able to come with you to a race, on Lando's way home, he would get you flowers.

For years now, without fail, Lando always got you flowers on his way home from a race weekend.

Recently, though, he would pay a florist, the florist he always goes all the time, to bring you flowers even where you went with him.

Well, he would pay for the florist to bring flowers to your home when you were almost home.

So, when you got out of the bathroom and went to the kitchen, you seen Lando unwrapping the flower bouquets that he got you, getting ready to put them in vases.

You went up to him and just wrapped your arms around him, laying your head on his back.

"There beautiful." You told him, looking at the flowers.

"I couldn't decide which one, so I bought all four." He told you as he finished the bouquet he was working on.

You let go of him and grabbed the vases and then stood beside him, working on the next bouquet as he filled one of the vases with water for the bouquet he finished.

What was a stressful day turned peaceful because of love, because he came home to you.

A/N: First in the 300 Follower Cele Driver poll

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @scopeiguess @01rrdbull @charli123456789 @smashcrabsblog @hadids-world @amz824 @taetae-armyyyyy @watermelonslut @gigicisneros @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[thebubblesareevil]

After a few years of being established, the Justice league decides to make the young Justice team.

While deciding chaperones Diana mentions that Danny actually began his hero career as a teenager.

Everyone agrees that he would make a great mentor, but they still have to ask.

It takes a bit of persuasion and negotiating but Danny eventually agrees on the condition that they aren’t told about his origins. Last thing he wants is for them to use his underaged heroing as an excuse to do something stupid.

The league agrees and Batman puts together the identity of a retired hero from a small town that started heroing in his 20s

Some of the team finds it a bit insulting that their mentors put them with some small time hero while others, namely kaldur and m’gann are very respectful.

Danny just shrugs it off though and announces that he’s here to make sure they don’t do anything stupid

Inevitably they do something stupid though and the team is ready to be pissed off when they get scolded by Danny of all people

But instead of scolding them he has them all sit down and explain their thought process and pointing out where they could have done things a bit differently. While he does get rid of the gaming systems in the mountain for a month, he doesn’t scold or yell or give the disappointed scowls.

None of them are really sure what to do with that.

Eventually though, one by one the teens start going to Danny about their problems both hero and civilian. Even telling him about the issues they’re keeping from the team.

He keeps their secrets and helps them work through their problems.

He decided at the beginning he would treat them the same as the Justice league and only intervene if he truly believed they couldn’t handle it.

There was only 2 times he considered intervening but the team pulled through.

Klarion and vandal.

Of course after that little stunt at the watch tower, no one was surprised that the two laid low.

None of them ever questioned why not a single one of them never encounter either of the villains again until they reached adulthood. After all they just pulled off a huge move against the league.

…..

When Vandal and Klarion returned to their base after the watch tower they did so feeling victorious. They had out witted the league and moved their plan forward.

The moment was ruined when vandal realized Klarion was silent as he stared at a figure sitting in his chair.

Klarion was never silent, but Vandal understood.

It was never wise to underestimate the Ghost King after all.

Danny sat tall in Vandals chair, looking a bit tired but otherwise average in his human form.

He rarely needed to change in the living realms anymore.

“Why don’t you two take a seat? I think we need to have a good long talk about the definition of child abuse and overkill.”

Retired hero Danny

Danny has saved the world more time than he could count and they would never know. He didn’t care

Ancients! He preferred it.

He retired from being a hero when the Justice league came into the picture. Ever since he was crowned the ghosts don’t really threaten humanity anymore so he’s more than happy to leave the non ghost threats to earth get handled by the Justice league

He runs a repair shop in amity park, he’ll fix anything and everything at affordable pricing

The only member of the Justice league that knows about Danny is Diana. She didn’t know about him until some enemy trying to summon chronos succeeds and she gets frozen in time

Luckily clockwork has mellowed out over the years and takes this time to tell her how proud he is of his favorite granddaughter following in her uncle’s footsteps.

He did tell her he was retired but would help if it was truly needed.

As far as everyone else is concerned the ritual was a dud

One day a major threat approaches and the team has beaten down time and again. Batman is getting desperate.

Wonder Woman asks to borrow a phone

She makes a call in the meeting room

Danny’s dead device depot: you kill it I fix it, how can I help you today.

“My name is Diana of themascyra. I was told you could help….we have run out of options.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“A new god by the name of Darkseid intend to bring our world to ruin. His army is without end and we cannot hold them back much longer”

“Hmmmm sounds like a tough job” tinkering is heard in the background “ tell you what, get me some of those cookies like yer mom makes. The nutty ones and we’ve got a deal”

“Kourabiedes? That’s it? But-“

“No buts, you just get those started while I take care of this creep. I should be done by the time they cool down.”

The line goes dead.

The team looks at her defeated. Certain that was a dead end, but Diana gets up and heads to the kitchen. If half of what her grandfather had told her was true then she would need to start baking

Meanwhile on Apokalypse….

The doors to the throne room fall to the ground before Darkseid

A large humanoid man stands in the doorway holding a large club like weapon with glowing text on the body

“So you’re the creep that’s been messing with my niece, huh? Don’t worry I have just the thing for creeps like you.”

Later that same day

Danny sits down at the table across from his niece as she tells him all about her friends and their adventures while he enjoys his slightly crispy cookies.

[81pastrys]

Their Mechanic

Summary— Lando has a mechanic, but when she isn’t available her ditsy brother’s work needs fixing.

Warnings— bad flirting

A/n— I have more parts (that need revision)

Series parts: 1 / ?

I walk into work, pull my shades up, and see the cars ready for work. My dad sees me and throws the keys at me. “Norris wants you to work on his car today.” He said. “He’s out back waiting. Be on time.”

I usually am on time. I gave myself a treat last night and went drinking. I roll my eyes and set my keys down along with my coffee. I walk out the back before changing and see my MVC. “Back so soon?” I ask.

“Well, you didn’t work on my baby last time.” He smiled. “When you don’t work on her, something ends up wrong.”

“Sounds about right.” I shrug. He popped the hood, and I leaned in. “What was supposed to be fixed?”

“One of the pistons.” He said, leaning on a wall and crossing his arms. I look in the car more and realize I haven’t changed.

“Let me change, and I’ll look in more detail,” I mention tossing his keys back. I go to my locker, swap shirts, and throw my sunglasses in the locker before locking it. I walk back out with a rag and stuff it halfway into my cargo pants. “Mind if I ask who ‘fixed’ it last?” I ask, throwing my hair in a messy pony.

“Ahh, your brother.” He smiled at me. “Seems the genes are only strong in you.”

“He’s ditsy sometimes,” I mention. “Gotta ask for me or my dad.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way.” He laughed.

“She can be yours in about an hour,” I say, finalizing my exam of the car. “Did you want a drink?”

“I would’ve never thought you’d be interested in me like that.” He asked jokingly, taken aback.

“I mean a water No-wins.” I joke back, smiling.

“It’s three now, can’t call me that.” He corrected, heading towards the lobby.

I work on his car and return to the lobby, grabbing a clipboard, marking things off, and handing it back to my mom to calculate. “Discount it; he was just here last week, Ma,” I say.

“Discounted prices aren’t going to get you laid.” She mumbled. I slap her arm and laugh. She knows my suppressed feelings for the man.

“Out of all of his options, he’d never.” I joke back with her. Lando realized we were talking about him and joined the conversation.

“Talking about me Trouble?” He asked while ripping the tag off the key ring.

“Calculating the price for the work I do so well.” I smile and give him a wink.

“You know my friends need a good mechanic.” He said. “Care to tend to them for me?”

“Tell them to ask for me, or they’ll get ditsy work.” I laugh, and it’s my mom’s turn to slap my arm. “What? He’s better at oil changes and inspection checks.”

“He’s your brother.” She said. I roll my eyes and wish Lando farewell

Lmk what you think 😊

[gublernatural]

for pop star!reader, bringing him to the grammys perchance? i think it would be silly <3

i love this so im skipping ahead to post-situationship into full blown relationship stage with them <3 my fave duo (also reader is def inspired by my girl t swizzle at award shows and im not sorry about it.)

"you're sure?" you asked one more time, just before the car doors were to open. spencer, whose face was almost as red as the dress you were wearing, sent you an eager nod.

he was torn; stuck between being excited to be by your side, but terrified to be in such a public space. there were days where he was still in awe that he has been able to meet, fall in love with, and now date such a strong, hard-working lady, but days like today he is reminded how much the whole world has come to love his lover.

"then, let's go," you smiled at him, ushering him to step out of the car. he obliged, then reached his hand towards you, helping you out. "thank you," you smiled at him, quickly, and then guided him to the building’s entrance. you waved at your supporters as you walked, still marveling at the impact you’ve been able to make.

you two ended up being split, spencer dragged away to your designated table and you to the red carpet. you took photos and completed interviews as quickly as you could without being impolite. you couldn’t help but feel like you were longing to be back with spencer. despite all of the fun you were able to have, everything just felt better when he was around.

“there you are,” you smiled as you finally made your way to your seat. “how was the carpet?” he asked, sliding your chair out for you. you shrugged in response, turning your attention to the first performer to take the stage.

spencer spent most of the show watching you with starstruck eyes. it was evident, even to those watching from home, how deeply in love spencer truly was with you. there was a literal sparkle in eye as you danced along to each performer, completely and totally enjoying yourself. this was the happiest you'd been in a while. you felt pretty, were at a celebration, and had your favorite person in the world by your side. spencer being in a fancy suit that matched your dress and having his hair professionally done had nothing to do with it, of course.

"this was is yours, right?" spencer whispered into your ear as his arm slipped around your waist. he held you close in anticipation as they introduced your category: best new artist.

this was the biggest moment of your career thus far. sure, awards weren't everything to you, but being recognized for the work you'd put out in somewhere as important as the grammy's would feel so good. you nodded, anxiously, trying to use spencer's proximity to ground you. you hoped the camera that cut to you while you were being named amongst your competitors could see the nerves that were coursing through your veins.

"and the winner is," victoria monet, last year's winner, announced. the world around you turn to static as your name was called into the mic. spencer was up before you were, cheering. tears welled in your eyes, overcome with pride and gratefulness. you hugged spencer and your producer, before heading up to the stage.

"um," you hesitated into the mic after hugging victoria, "i did not think i was going to win this," you laughed. the crowd laughed as well. beyonce was laughing at you. taylor swift was laughing at you. spencer reid was laughing at you. this was the best moment of your life.

"everyone in this category is so amazing and i wish we could split this award eight different ways. thank you to anyone and everyone who has listened to my music and supported me so far. i would not be here if it weren't for you." the first tear slipped from your face and you quickly brought your empty tear up to wipe it.

"thank you to everyone who inspired me and my music, and anyone who laid a hand in creating it with me. my mind is so blank and i can't remember all of your names," everyone laughed again. "and thank you to those i love," your eyes slipped to your table in the crowd. the camera cut to spencer, who had the biggest smile on his face anyone had ever seen. "i wouldn't be here without you guys. thank you and i cannot wait to make more music for you." you ended with a gracious wave to the crowd and cameras, before dashing back to your table.

you threw yourself in spencer's arms again. his cheek smushed against your shoulder as he mumbled, "i'm so proud of you!" you didn't answer, but he felt your smile get impossibly wider against him. after your brief moment of affection, you settled back into his side, excited to see sabrina carpenter's performance.

[vmiina]

the chain

sam winchester & (fallen) angel!reader

summary you defy heaven’s laws by falling in love with the man you were supposed to watch over. after refusing to abandon him, you’re violently punished and stripped of your grace. left broken and bloodied, you fight to make your way back to sam.

warnings angst fluff descriptions of violence religious themes & imagery not-so implied torture (implied via injuries) emotional trauma

you can’t erase it. the memory of him lingers with you, his scent burning into your skin. it’s like he’s everywhere— the sharpness of his jawline, the warmth of his comforting touch, the hunger in his eyes when you were alone together. a forbidden flame, one that no angel should dare to approach. but you did. and now, there’s no turning back.

you were never supposed to feel all these things for sam. never supposed to be this close to him. heaven’s orders were clear—watch him, guide him, protect him—but never, never interfere. and yet, as soon as you laid eyes on sam winchester, the weight of your duty, your celestial task, crumbled away like it had never even been assigned to you.

it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. he wasn’t supposed to be a temptation. but there he was, broken, lost, struggling with his own fate. you watched him from the shadows, the broken light of the motel room catching his eyes just right, making them glow like the darkened sky before a storm. you were a witness to his pain, and that’s what made you step closer. you told yourself you were just following orders. but somewhere between the quiet whispers of the night and the frantic beat of your heart, you lost your way.

you denied heaven’s orders, because you fell in love with sam. you fell in love with the broken soul beneath the hunter’s tough facade. the way he laughed when he thought no one could hear him. the way he looked at you like you weren’t just an angel of the lord, but something more— someone real.

the first touch was accidental, a brush of your fingers when you reached for the same book. the spark between you could’ve set the world alight. and when you kissed him—when his lips met yours for the first time— the rules were nonexistent to you.

his hands were desperate on your back, pulling you closer, his chest heaving beneath you as if he couldn’t breathe without you. his lips were a prayer, a needy plea for something he couldn’t name. and for once, you weren’t an angel. you were just you, his, in that moment, as much as he was yours. and it was enough. when it ended, the guilt should’ve eaten you alive. it should’ve— shouldn’t it? but all you could feel was him, the warmth of his body, the way his lips tried to explore every single inch of your body, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

but the voices came. heaven’s cold, unforgiving whispers. they called to you, accusing you, dragging you back to your purpose. they spoke of consequences, of wraith, of your failure to uphold your duty. and you listened, for a while. you pulled away from him, the ache in your chest unbearable, but necessary. you started to watch him from a distance again, your eyes burning with regret, because you couldn’t bear to hurt him more. but sam, he wouldn’t let you go that easily. he confronted you, his voice shaking with something raw and desperate. “you left me. why?”

you didn’t have the words. you couldn’t explain. so you did the only thing you could, you kissed him, again. this time much harder than you ever had before, leaving no space between you and him, hoping that it could erase all the reasons you’re leaving him behind. and that was when you understood: there was no going back. heaven’s law meant nothing to you now. you were his, sam was yours. a chain, a bond that even heaven itself wouldn’t be able to break.

when they came for you, when the sky tore open and the weight of heaven’s fury descended, you didn’t fight, you didn’t have it in you to do so. the only thing stronger than heaven’s wrath, than the celestial force that created you, was the love you had for sam winchester.

so you stayed, even as they dragged you away. you stayed, and whispered. “i’ll come back for you.” because even if they took you away from him, even if they ripped you to shreds, you’d never stop loving him. you’d never stop fighting for him. even if it meant bending every rule, every command. you wanted him, he wanted you. and nothing—nothing—could change that not now, not never. not heaven, hell or even the world itself. you were bound to him by something far stronger than any celestial chain was ever to you.

the moment they take you the world vanishes.

light—blinding and searing—fills your vision, burning through your borrowed flesh, through every nerve that still hums with the memory of sam’s comforting touch. it pierces right through you, cold and merciless, dragging you from the motel room, from the warmth of his arms, from the way he whispered your name like a prayer. and then, heavy silence fell over.

not the comforting quiet of a late night rainfall, not the peace of stillness, but something hollow. a void where sound should exist, where time itself should breathe. you are nowhere, and yet still you know exactly where you are.

heaven.

you land on your knees. the ground beneath you is endless marble, stretching into nothingness. pillars rise like celestial monoliths, carved from something older than time, inscribed with words you couldn’t bear to look at. the weight of their meaning is too much. you know what they say even without looking at them. you know why you’re here without having to think twice. you bow your head, because that’s what you were always told to do. even in your rebellion, defiance, there’s still something inside you that trembles before the might of your father’s will.

“do you know what you’ve done?”

the voice is not one, but many. a chorus. a storm. it shakes the air surrounding you, and you can feel it inside your bones, inside the grace they have bound, crushing it, suffocating it. “yes.” your voice is quiet, but it doesn’t break.

another voice, singular this time, but no less overwhelming and accusing.

“you disobeyed.”

“you fell.”

the words linger in your head, and you flinch, because it isn’t true— not yet. they could cast you down if they wished, strip your wings, rip your grace from you until you were nothing but dust, blood and human frailty. and maybe, you’d deserve it. but all you can think of is sam, even with the judging voices filling the silent space. the way he looked at you when you whispered that you’d come back to him. the way his hands desperately held onto you like he could keep you from being torn away.

“i loved.” you say, and the silence after is deafening. heaven doesn’t love. heaven is love— divine, absolute, untouchable. but never personal.

there is movement around you. blurred figures, wings spread wide, too bright for mortals to look at. you don’t have to see them to know they’re angels. your brothers and sisters. the ones that will decide your fate.

“you chose him over heaven.” the accusation rings through the space.

you lift your head, finally meeting their gaze, though they have no faces, only light. “i did.” you nearly whimper out, there’s no point in denying the truth anymore. everybody knows, things like this spread around heaven like wildfire.

a beat of silence. then, a single voice, ancient and unreadable.

“then let him be your salvation.”

unbearable pain erupts through your body. your grace ignites, searing from the inside out. it’s not like falling. falling is a choice. this is something else. a sentence, a branding. they’re not casting you from heaven. they’re binding you to earth, chaining you to your own defiance.

your wings, once ethereal, twist in agony, the weight of them dragging you downward. the marble beneath you splinters, cracks spidering out in every direction. your breath leaves your lungs, and the moment before everything goes dark, the last thing you hear their degree.

“if he is what you desire, then let him bear the cost.”

then, you fall. and this time there’s no light to catch you.

when you wake, pain is the first thing you feel. it’s raw, like every inch of your being is made of shattered glass and bleeding flesh. your wings— they’re still there, but they’re completely broken, a twisted mess of your burning agony, you can’t even feel them anymore. you barely even remember them. all you know is that you’re falling, through the void, through the space between heaven’s prison and earth’s trembling ground.

you hit the ground hard. too hard. your hands scrape against the dirt as you force yourself to push up, gasping for air, every breath you take burns, like hellfire. it feels like the world is trying to crush you under the weight of everything you’ve done. every inch of your screams in agony, but you push it down. you have to get to sam.

you have to.

the world around you is blurry, spinning with the aftershocks of what you’ve just endured. you can barely make out the shapes of trees, the dim outline of the road in front, the faint glow of the distant lights. and then there’s the sound of a familiar voice, voice that cuts through the fog in your mind, the sound of him calling your name.

“where are you?”

the world tilts beneath you, the ground uneven beneath your shaky steps. every inch of your body is hurting, raw, bruised, torn apart, but none of it matters. not when his voice is out there, cutting through the haze, calling out to you. you push forward. the scenery a mess in the dark, shadows twisting in the edges of your vision. you can barely hold yourself up, your limbs weak, your grace flickering—broken, burning— but you don’t stop, you can’t.

the sound of gravel crunching under your feet is distant, like you’re not really there, not really walking. just drifting, pulled forward by something far stronger than pain, stronger than the weight of what heaven has done to you.

and then— there.

a figure, tall, broad shoulders tense, pacing by the side of the road. his phone in his hand, his head snapping up at the sound of your unsteady footsteps. his name is already on your lips, but it’s barely a whisper.

the second he sees you, his whole body locks up. his chest rises sharply, breath caught between a gasp and something raw, something desperate. his eyes are wide, dark and furious, they drag over you, taking in the state you’re left in. clothes torn apart to shreds, streaks of blood staining your entire body, knees threatening to buckle any moment now. “what the hell—“ his voice breaks, and suddenly he’s in front of you, grabbing your arms, touching you, as if making sure you’re real. his fingers press into your skin firmly, warm and alive, grounding you.

you can’t speak. you can’t do anything but look at him with teary eyes, full of pain. your vision is swimming, body wrecked. sam’s breath is uneven, his jaw tight, and you can see the war happening behind his eyes— relief that you’re here, back with him. pure anger at what’s been done to you. “who did this?” his voice shaky, rough and low. “who did this to you?” you swallow hard, your throat dry and aching. you didn’t have to say it, he knew.

his hold trembles on your arms, his grip tightening, not hard enough to hurt. but to hold, to keep you here. “those sons of bitches.” his voice is sharp, but it’s wrapped up in something else, fear. “they took you. they—“ his breath catches, and when he speaks again his voice is lower, more dangerous than you’ve ever heard. “and they did this?”

you nod, just barely, the small action hurting. you don’t tell him the worst of it, the burning pain of being ripped from him, the way your wings were twisted and torn as punishment, the way they made you feel small and unholy before they threw you away like you were nothing.

but sam knows. he always does, and it’s killing him.

his hands move, one of them cradling the side of your face, his thumb brushing just under a cut on your cheek. his touch is careful, but his whole body is simmering with barely-contained fury. “i swear to god…” he mutters, voice hoarse. “if they ever—ever—come near you again…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, because he doesn’t have to. you can feel the storm raging inside him. you lean into him, exhausted beyond words. “i had to come back.” you whisper, your voice barely holding together.

sam swallows down the heavy lump in his throat, his jaw clenched. he finally pulls you in fully, his arms wrapping around you with so much force that you can barely breathe, but you don’t care. you press into him, letting yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace again, hoping that this time it would last. the solid realness of him calms you down, making you forget the burning pain all over your body. “you’re okay,” sam whispers, voice shaky, he’s not sure if he’s trying to convince himself or you. “you’re okay, i got you.” his palm cradles the back of your head, his other arm holding you so tight, he’s scared you might disappear again.

you close your eyes, shaking frantically in his grip. because even though you’re standing, you’re right there, you’re still falling. and sam is the only person able to keep you from breaking apart completely.

sam doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second. his arm stays wrapped around your waist as he half-carries, half-guides you to the impala, his grip is bruising. but you can barely register the pain with the way your body is already so broken all over. you can feel the heat rolling off him, the tension in his every movement, the quiet rage under his worry.

the drive back is silent. the only sound is the soft hum of the engine, the distant crackle of dean’s classic rock cassette on low volume. you lean against the window, eyes fluttering shut, but everytime you start to drift off away from your thoughts, the memory of you falling jolts you awake. you shudder, and sam notices, of course he does, he notices everything when it comes to you. his hands tighten on the wheel, knuckles going white.

when he pulls up to the motel, he’s out of the car before you can even move. he yanks your door open, eyes scanning your face, and for a moment, he looks lost. then without a word, he ducks down and scoops you into his arms. “sam—“ your voice is hoarse, barely there, but he doesn’t let you finish. “no,” he mutters, holding you to his chest as he kicks the door shut behind him. his voice is strained, breath unsteady. “you can barely stand.” you don’t argue, there’s no point, because you know he’s right. you just let him hold you, that’s all you can do anyway.

inside the motel room, he sets you down on the edge of the bed. his movements are careful and measured, but you can see the way his hands shake, his breaths are too fast. he’s barely holding himself together, he’s so scared. of hurting you, of losing you again. he grabs the first-aid kit from his duffel bag, slamming it next to you on the bed more force than needed. he kneels in front of you, his long fingers gently coming to peel your bloodied clothes off.

his hands still.

you don’t need to look at yourself to know what he’s seeing, the multiple bruises blooming across your skin, the raw, bloody scrapes and bright-red burns. you hear the sharp breath he takes in, the way it shudders like he’s forcing himself to stay calm. but when he speaks, his voice is anything but. “they hurt you.” he scoffs, voice full of venom. it’s not a question, it’s a blunt statement. you swallow hard, your throat dry. “sam—“ his jaw tightens. “they hurt you.” he repeats, and this time there’s a harsh edge to his tone, full of danger. his hands clench into fists, his shoulders tense like he’s barely restraining himself.

you reach out, your fingers brushing over his knuckles. “i’m fine.” you say with a hoarse voice. sam’s head bows, his forehead nearly resting against your knee. he stays like that for a moment, breathing slow and heavy. when he finally lifts his gaze his eyes are dark with something feral. “they don’t get to do this to you,” he says, voice low. “anyone but you.” you don’t have the strength to argue, to tell him that heaven doesn’t care about fairness, that the cost of loving him was always going to end up like this, no matter what.

sam reaches for a damp cloth. his touch is surprisingly gentle, considering how furious he is. he starts to clean the blood from your skin and wounds. his fingers ghost over your bruises, brows furrowing deeper with every single one he uncovers. you can see it in his face— the helplessness, the guilt, the fury that he wasn’t there to stop this. but he couldn’t have done anything to stop this, you knew this would happen from the moment you realized you first saw him. you disobeyed, you sinned, and heaven shows no mercy to those who don’t listen.

the cloth presses against a particularly deep cut, making you flinch and let out a soft whimper in pain. he freezes, eyes snapping to yours as he immediately halts his actions. “i’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice softer than it had been before. “did that hurt?” he asks, free hand coming to rub soft shapes on your thigh in hopes of calming you down and distracting you from the pain he knows he’ll have to cause. you swallow hard, forcing a small nod. “yeah.” you whisper, voice barely audible. “but it’s okay, just… keep going.”

sam doesn’t continue right away, instead his eyes search yours like he’s trying to gauge just how much pain you’re in, if he should even be doing this at all. his hand keeps tracing those absentminded, uncoordinated shapes on your skin, grounding you. finally after a moment of silence, he nods. “just tell me if it’s too much alright?” he says, not continuing until you give him a ‘yes’ as a response. he dips the fabric in warm water again, wrings it out, and presses it softly against another wound on your body. the sting shoots through you, and your body tenses before you can stop it.

“hey,” he murmurs, shifting closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin. “honey, breathe.” his voice is so gentle, it turns your insides into mush. you try to breathe, you really do. but the ache in your body, the weight of everything makes it impossible to focus on something as simple as your own breathing. sam must see it, must feel it in the way your hands clench at the sheets beneath you. his jaw tightens again. “they’re never touching you again,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “not while i’m breathing.”

something inside you clenches at the raw promise in your voice, you knew he was serious. he’s always been so protective of you, trying to keep you as far as he can from anything that could possibly wound you. so when he saw you in this state, weak, broken, he felt like he had failed his only purpose. it hurts him to know that you feel the exact same way.

he works in silence after that, soft and methodical, like touching you too hard might make you break. you watch him through tired eyes, the furrow in his brows, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands shake just barely when he brushes over a particularly bad wound. when he’s done, he leans back, exhaling shakily. “that’s the best i can do.” he says, reaching for the blanket on the bed. he drapes it over you, tucking it around your frame like he needs to protect you, scared that just you getting cold might make you shatter. without hesitation he sits on the bed beside you, close. one arm resting on the space between you, the other still on your thigh.

“you need to rest.” he says quietly, but there’s an unspoken need to talk to you in his tone. you don’t answer right away. instead, you shift closer, pressing against his warmth, feeling his now steady breath. sam sighs, soft and aching. his hand moves, sliding up to your back, pulling you in just enough to know that he won’t be leaving you.

for a moment, there’s nothing but the quiet sounds of the city outside the room, the distant buzz of the overhead light, the muffled sounds of cars passing on the highway. his hand rests against your back, fingers gently drumming on the blanket over your body. you can still feel the stiffness still lingering within him, his muscles staying painfully tight even as he holds you. “talk to me,” he softly coaxes, voice rough with something you can’t quite put your finger on. “what did they do to you?” he’s desperate to know, desperate to get revenge on your siblings who did all this to you. you still, without meaning to, it makes sam’s grip on you tighten.

you swallow hard. you don’t want to talk about it. you don’t want to put it into words, making it more real than it already is. but the way sam is looking at you, like he needs to know, like his own pain is tangled up in yours, like maybe understanding it will make it easier to bear. “they—“ your voice catches, and you force yourself to keep talking. “they wanted to make me regret this, you.” you say, voice breaking as you look up at him. sam huffs out a breath, fingers grasping onto the blanket tightly, but he doesn’t interrupt. “they tore my grace from me.” the words come out sounding weaker than meant to, but they feel so loud in the silence.

“they made me less, made me nothing.”

your words tear sam apart, they tug at his heartstrings. just the thought that you think that of yourself makes him flinch. “you’re not nothing,” he says, voice firm and certain. “not to me.” and you know he means every single word, ever since he realized he’s fallen in love with you, you’ve been his everything. nothing, could make him think any less of you.

[meelusinee]

Fem!reader x Mattheo, who had given her the Amortentia potion,can be smut or something like one of the teachers/students realise somethings up

LOVE'S WORST ENEMY | M.R X READER

word count \ 3.8k | not so fluff | slash / mattheo riddle / fem!reader

in which mattheo uses amortentia to get his girl

minor cw & tw: use of amortentia (which is considered drugging) & manipulation

You had never liked Mattheo before.

That wasn’t to say you disliked him, or that you hated him. Rather, you just never truly knew him well enough to like him.

Mattheo was Slytherin’s signature rugged bad boy. A prankster that walked the line of ‘too much’ like it was an already snorted line of cocaine and he wanted more. He had friends that were high up as well. Pureblood aristocrats who had millions in their family wealth. His reputation had been built for him by the time his name had been called for the Sorting Hat, and he seemed to love playing into what everyone thought was true.

And you? 

You weren’t known at all. Or at least, you weren’t known like that. Just a regular student who tried to live a regular life. A little better than average grades, and a couple of close friends, though not much more than that. The most you were known as was Hermione Granger’s quiet friend, though barely anyone knew you two even talked in the first place. 

Which led you confused as to why Mattheo had decided you were his. You weren’t even sure how it started. You supposed it was the tutoring. 

Mattheo could feel his heartbeat against the paper he was holding. 

It was beating so hard he could feel every palpitation inside his veins. He had never felt this way before, had he? Nervous was not a word that was in his dictionary. He had the impulse control of a raccoon with rabies, he hated the concept of nervousness like a rabid dog feared water. 

Which is why he hated that you made him this way. 

You, a regular student. Granger’s quiet friend, maybe a bit of a high achiever. A tutor in Charms, Transfiguration and now Potions. 

Just regular. Normal. 

So why was he so attracted to you? He didn’t know. 

And he hated it. Hated that he had no control of the situation, Hated that you probably only knew him from his reputation. He could treat you so well, he knew that. Any date that you wanted, any gift that you were promised as a child and never got. Absolutely anything. 

But you didn’t know that. And he hated not having power over that. 

So, instead of slowly making you fall in love with him all while knowing you might never truly love him, like a regular person would, he decided to go through a faster route. Amortentia.

Which led to him failing his recent Potions exams about Amortentia. 

It was a simple plan. Fail anything relating to love potions until Slughorn hunted him down. Stare at him with those eyes that seemed to scare the professor into allowing anything that Mattheo wanted, and then ask to be tutored by you. After that, he’d say yes. Mattheo knew he would say yes. 

And he knew that he’d get you alone after that.

“Excuse me,” Mattheo whispered, a small slip of paper laid in his hands as he stood next to your desk in the library. You had notes scattered around, some almost falling off the desk. “Are you Y/N?”

You looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, completely innocent and unknowing of the entire world. It was absolutely adorable to say the least. “Yes?”

“Good.” he said, holding up the small slip of paper. “Slughorn paired us up together? Tutoring?”

You looked at the slip in his hand confusedly. You had indeed offered to start tutoring for Slughorn, but you hadn’t been told that you were meant to be tutoring someone just yet. Though, Slughorn was paying you, so you weren’t complaining too much. 

“What did you need help with?” you asked him curiously, taking the slip with those smooth hands of his. They looked so small, so delicate. He couldn’t wait to feel them melting against his chest.

Mattheo shrugged simply. “Amortentia, I think.”

You nodded and chuckled at that, closing your book and sitting up a bit straighter. “It is a hard potion, especially the time it takes. Do you have everything you need for it?”

He smiled a bit sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t know what I need.”

You looked at him before shaking your head. “That’s probably why you need tutoring.” you chuckled, pulling up a list from your pile of notes spread across the desk. “I have a list here, you can ask Slughorn for the materials. He should still be in his office right now, he only goes to his room after sundown.” you muttered, handing the list to him. “Come back after, okay?”

“Thank you.” he nodded and smiled quietly, looking down at the list before walking off. Mattheo could feel your eyes on him. He wasn’t sure what you thought about him. 

Maybe you thought that he was quiet, or weird. Or maybe you already knew of his reputation. Would that be a bad thing? He wasn’t so sure. He knew that his soft tone and his smiles would make you question what you knew already. And he knew that you were going to be more forgiving then most people would.

And that’s exactly what he needed. 

He sighed as he looked down at the list, a small smirk growing on his lips as he saw the ingredients he had months memorizing. 

1 piece Bdellium 5 Flutterby Bush Flowers 1 sprigs Knotgrass 3 Lacewing Flies 1 drop Lethe River Water 6 Mistletoe Berries 1 measure Pearl Dust 1 measure Powdered Asphodel Root 2 measures Powdered Unicorn Horn 4 drops Rose Oil 6 Rose Petals 1 cup Standard Potioning Water

Mistletoe berries were easy to grab. Pearl dust could be modified to be more potent. Mattheo was sure that Theodore had a rose that was raised more potent than three, and the Unicorn Horn was easily acquirable as well. He was sure that he could modify the ingredients to make it more potent, to make it longer or stronger whenever someone took it.

When he would make you take it. 

He chuckled under his breath and pocketed the list of ingredients, already knowing exactly what he was getting himself into. His heart was racing in his fingertips, though this time it was full of anticipation. 

“I have a gift for you.” he muttered quietly.

You looked up as Mattheo approached you with a small box of chocolates, a small smile growing on your face as you saw him. Mattheo and you had been hanging out more often ever since he started being your makeshift Potions student. 

He was a good guy. You didn’t care what everyone else said about him, because you knew him better than they did. Sure, he was rambunctious, but what teenager wasn’t? He was kind to you, and he listened much more than anyone else ever had. His friends were nice too, albeit a bit harsher compared to him. Reckless womanizers that threw money on alcohol and impulse spendings that made no sense to you. You knew it didn’t care that it didn’t make that much sense to you though. 

“You got a gift?” you asked him with a small smile. 

“Mhm.” he smiled at you, handing you the gift. “Chocolate.”

You gasped quietly as you took in the box as a whole. It was a heart shape, a box that had been painted pastel pink with lace glued on the edges. The chocolate seemed homemade, not quite from the beginning but enough to seem homemade to you. There was a small note on the back of the cover, which stated that they were made with a caramel filling in the middle. “Wow.”

Mattheo chuckled quietly, looking at you with a small smile and a look in your eyes you couldn’t quite place. “Do you like it?” he asked quietly.

“I love it!” you said excitedly, eating one of the chocolates almost instantly. “Oh my, that’s delicious.”

Mattheo sat down next to you with a small smirk planted on his face, watching you eat the chocolates one after another. You didn’t seem to care much about anything else other than the chocolate in the moment, though you also knew that was nothing more than a moment-level fixation.

He had made them himself, after all.

You had helped him brew Amortentia, finishing your group potion just last week. What you didn’t know was that he had memorized every single step and made his own in the dungeons after he left the library every night. What you didn’t know was that he had inserted it into the chocolate. 

“Does it taste good?” he asked you curiously.

You nodded your head and giggled quietly. “It tastes really good, actually.”

He hummed at that, ruffling your hair before looking down at his watch. “I have to meet with Theo and Blaise, but I wanted to give those to you first.” he smiled at you. “Can we meet up later?”

You looked up at him with a look in your eyes that almost made him crumble at the sight. It was absolutely innocent and adorable, the picture perfect representation of everything that he had fallen for. He felt his resolve crumbling in that moment, wanting nothing more than to stay there with you forever. But he had to resist the urge.

Otherwise, his potion wouldn’t work.

“Yeah, we can do that.” you smiled quietly at him. “If the library’s closed, we can meet in the Astronomy Tower right?”

He nodded. “Mhm.” he said, kissing the back of your hand again. 

“Okay.” you said, nodding and giggling as he kissed the back of your hand. “I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll see you later.” he whispered back. He could already see a new look of him forming in your eyes, he could feel the way your heart was beating inside of your fingers.

This would be fun.

You felt different.

Your heartbeat was beating faster than you ever felt it beat, and you had escaped from the library early to hide inside of your dorm room. Your body was hot, sweating especially near your hands. You weren’t sure if you were sick, if you would have to cancel your plans on Mattheo due to some fever.

Oh, Mattheo.

Anytime you thought about Mattheo, you felt all of your symptoms worsening. You weren’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. And you also weren’t sure what you were going to tell your roommates either.

Especially Hermione.

“Y/N?” she called out, looking at you with a small frown as she noticed you laying in bed. You were meant to be studying in the library with her right now, though that wouldn’t work if you weren’t exactly there. “Are you doing okay? You weren’t in the library.”

You nodded before shaking your head. “Uh, I don’t know. I’m really hot right now.”

“Do you have a fever?” she asked you curiously. “Or any other symptoms?”

You shrugged your shoulders, clearing your throat as you sat up. Your cheeks were flushed warm and your body was shaking slightly, though it only seemed like that whenever you thought of Mattheo. Did he have some sickness he accidently gave you? There was a chance he was asymptomatic.

“Uh, I’m really hot.” you muttered. “My palms are sweaty. And my heart’s beating really fast.”

Hermione frowned at that, placing her books on her bed and walking over to you. “When did your symptoms start?” she asked as she placed her hand against your forehead.

“Anytime that I think about one of my,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “One of my friends.”

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at that. “Whenever you think about someone?”

You nodded your forehead. “I think that he might be asymptomatic. We’ve been hanging out recently for tutoring, he needed help with potions.”

“Has this been recent?” Hermione asked, one of her eyebrows raised. 

Your eyebrows furrowed at that, looking up at her as you saw the small upward tilt of her lips. “Okay Mione, what is it?”

She chuckled before shaking her head. “Could it be that you might be in love with him?”

You looked up at her confusedly. Blinking once, twice.

Could you be in love with him?

“Maybe.” you whispered quietly, nulling it over in your mind. Mattheo was a good person, wasn’t he? Just misunderstood, certainly. He always listened to you, he made you feel happy. Something you could never place your finger on. But maybe that thing was love.

Could it be love?

“Are you going to hang out with your friend later?” Hermione asked you, watching you nod. “Maybe you can test out your theory there then.

You nodded quietly. “Maybe I will.”

Mattheo was already sitting in the Astronomy Tower when you got there, though you made sure to keep your steps extra quiet when you climbed up. You wanted to observe him first, to watch him when he wasn’t being perceived by you. You thought it might help your theory.

Yet all it did was make your heart beat erratically.

He was absolutely beautiful in the moonlight. It shined on his hair perfectly, the small lantern he had brought showing off every single freckle on his arms and face. You wished that you could make a constellation out of them. Fingers trailing up and down each scar and mark.

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of it when you realized Mattheo was now standing right in front of you. “Mattheo!”

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, hand moving to caress your cheek. You could feel your heart thumping at the feeling. “You look rather zoned out.”

You shook your head out of its daze with a small smile, walking past him to sit down on the small blanket he brought for the both of you. “Thank you.” you smiled.

“Course,” he said with a chuckle. “Anything for you.”

You felt the pitter patter of your heart rise even more, a flush covering your cheeks. Anything for you?

“I don’t think I got to ask if you finished the chocolate.” he said to you. His voice sounded like raw honey that you would cover a sweet treat with, something that would melt down your throat. “Did you like it?”

“Mhm.” you nodded. “Loved it.”

Mattheo smirked, in a way that you had never seen before. Almost like he had a plan or something going on behind those brown eyes. But you seemed to lose yourself in those eyes before you could realize what the smirk really meant.

“Y/N?” he called out again to you, eyebrows furrowed as you zoned back to reality again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You keep zoning out.”

You felt your heartbeat in your fingers at the concern in his voice. He genuinely cared about you. And that alone made your cheeks flush warmer and warmer until everything was spilling out of your mouth. “You make me feel sick.”

Mattheo blinked for a moment before looking at you once more. “What?”

“My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest,” you whispered quietly. “And my face is always warm. I can’t stop myself from sweating even though I hate sweating. And my stomach has these weird butterflies too.”

Mattheo’s face was confused for a moment before a wide smirk broke out on his face, chuckles escaping his throat before he could stop them. “You think you’re sick?”

“Yes!” you pouted. “So don’t laugh at me.”

Mattheo shook his head before leaning closer, close enough to where you could see how full his eyelashes really were. They almost made you jealous. “Y/N,” he whispered quietly. “You sound like you’re in love. Not sick.”

“That’s what Mione said.” you grumbled quietly.

Mattheo raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t my second opinion mean it’s truthful?”

You looked at him with the best pout you could muster. That seemed to be enough for him, as his hands cradled your face and his lips gently locked onto yours.

This, you thought, is what heaven must feel like. 

His lips were soft and sweet, something you couldn’t seem to get enough of. And his tongue felt like it was yours with the way it slotted so well into your mouth. You didn’t mind the faint taste of blood from a busted lip he had gotten from a fight some time ago, especially since your senses were running on overdrive from the scent of his perfume running your head heady.

He pulled away all too soon, eyes locking on yours. “You’re a rather nice kisser.”

You smiled softly at that, teeth biting your lip as you looked at him. This was your first ever kiss, and it was absolutely perfect.

You didn’t want to change it for the world.

Hermione was observant. 

That was a trait she prided herself on quite frequently. Whether it be her keen ability to think of a spell almost as soon as the situation needed it, or her ability to observe others from an intellectual standpoint. Anything textbook was something she could figure out easily.

What she couldn’t figure out was why you were acting so differently.

Ever since you had confessed that you were in love with someone, she had noticed the signs. You came back that night extremely dazed with marks along the side of your neck and legs. She didn’t question then.

You’d skip out on your study sessions from time to time to hang out with whoever you were so in love with. She didn’t question then. Nor did she question the ‘dazed’ look you’d get in your eyes whenever she mentioned the existence of your lover.

That wasn’t until she learned it was Mattheo.

She was sure that she wasn’t meant to know. Your curtains were mostly closed, though they were open enough for her to tell his figure from anywhere. 

And that left her mind whirring.

Hermione had heard rumors about the Slytherins learning Amortentia potions for whatever reason that Slytherins needed to learn Amortentia for. She never questioned it at first, for she thought it was a good potion to learn about. Knowing about Amortentia meant that you knew about the signs of poisoning and how to prevent it from escalating further.

And Hermione could easily see the signs within you.

The dazed look in your eyes. The infatuation you had suddenly gained with no knowledge of it before. The way you broke rules to nurture the love. Case in point, somehow sneaking a male Slytherin into the girl’s Gryffindor dormitories.

And Hermione was already getting sick of it.

So much so that she decided to confront you.

“Hi Mione!”

Hermione looked up to see you walking towards her with a small smile, teeth marks and hickeys plastered clearly on your neck. Those were the same marks that girls used to have when Mattheo would hook up with them almost two years ago. Hermione found it quite ironic that they seemingly stopped one day.

“Mystery guy again?” she asked.

You nodded, and Hermione noticed the look in your eyes almost immediately. It was the same look Ron had gotten when Romilda had tried to poison Harry.

“Who is your mystery guy?” she asked you confusedly. “You talk so much about him, yet I never figured out who you’re talking about.

You looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, quite obviously confused. “I thought I told you?”

“No, you didn’t.” she said.

“Oh!” you said before shaking your head. “It’s Mattheo! He asked me out, that one day I thought I was sick.”

Hermione felt her eyebrows furrowing at that. “Mattheo?”

“Mione,” you whined. “He’s a good person. Just because his parents suck doesn’t mean he sucks.”

“The fact that that is your opening leaves me concerned.” she said sternly. “Are you sure he doesn’t have you under some potion?”

“He wouldn’t drug anyone!” you said, ignoring the librarian’s hush that echoed through the library walls. “It’s not my fault that everyone seems to judge him. If you got to know him, maybe you’d understand.”

“Y/N,” Hermione sighed, closing her book. “I’m not saying that because of his reputation. I’m saying that because I’ve noticed the signs in you.”

“What signs?” you asked incredulously.

“The dazed eyes, the lovesick puppy act,” she listed off. “The fact that you’re breaking rules to sneak him into our dormitory. Literally everything.”

You just rolled your eyes at that. “That means nothing.”

“Weren’t you tutoring him on Amortentia when you met?” she asked incredulously.

“That means nothing either.” you spat, standing up with your bag in hand. “I’m going somewhere else to study.”

“Y/N!” Hermione said, unable to grab her books in time to catch up with you leaving the library.

This wasn’t going to end well.

“Mattheo!”

Mattheo turned his head as he heard the sound of your voice, his mind echoing as he repeated it over and over in his mind. There was something wrong.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

You had tears running down your cheeks and a quivering lip, almost like a kicked puppy. He felt his heart breaking at the sight. 

He cooed gently as his hands guided you to his lap, pressing kisses against your temple, cheeks and lips whenever he could. You almost immediately melted into his lap, hands wrapping around his body instinctively.

“What’s wrong baby?” he asked again.

You sniffled. “Hermione thinks that you drugged me.”

Mattheo felt his body stiffen slightly, though he didn’t want you to catch that. “Why would she think that?”

You rolled your eyes before going on to explain the situation, how Hermione had listed symptoms of the Amortentia potion and how you ‘apperently’ fit the box. Mattheo didn’t want to say that you did fit the box, that he had drugged you with Amortentia. What he did know was that he would have to do something about Hermione after this.

“I’m sorry love,” he whispered gently.

You huffed. “It’s just not fair how nobody can see you for you!” you muttered. “You wouldn’t do that, right?”

“Never.” he lied, with such a conviction that even the universe might make it true. “I would never do that to you, my love.”

“Good.” you nodded before sniffing again.

Mattheo hummed and kissed the tip of your nose again, pulling out a small flask of his drink. “I know you don’t drink often,” he whispered, opening the flask and letting you sniff it. “But do you want a drink right now?”

You looked at the drink before nodding, taking the flask from him and drinking as much as you could in one gulp. Mattheo chuckled as his thumbs caressed your waist, loving the slightly pink hue that your eyes had taken.

He also didn’t mind the new hickeys that appeared down your neck that night either.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

well this was quite a fun prompt! i know that this was technically a smut request, but i have a moral thing against love potions being influential in terms of romantic or sexual intercourse (if anyone is curious, i can so make another post about that) and i doubt i'd be very good at representing SA in a harry potter fanfiction, so there isn't any smut for this one. however! i did find this fun to write, knowing that this is just fiction. so thank you for the request anon! u can read part two here!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, and reblog! have a lovely day!

[bnyf]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ#1 crush ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒yandere male elf x female human reader ♡

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, sexual content, noncon, kidnapping, size difference, strange dynamic.

╰﹕୨୧﹒authoress note : after receiving some unwanted but much needed criticism i've tried my hand at writing a little better and fixing errors. i apologize in advance if there's any errors or gaps in my writing, i also apologize for the messed up story that this is. ik some people don't like the way i write the reader but like??? idgaf sorry anyways other than that, i hope you guys enjoy, please read the warnings and proceed with caution <3 i would also like to say that this post is kinda inspired by a very popular yandere artist on here with a male elf oc

what a treacherous fate had befallen on a vitreous soul such as yourself.

it truly is unfortunate, you're so unlucky. how could your luck have run so low? to think, this everyday mundane routine would now be your nightmarish reality was stomach wrenching. you never did anything to deserve this, this was simply some sort of faulty by the gods, right? there's no way this is your horrible ending. no way.

you sobbed and yet... he hummed and chastised you by smacking your puffy clitorous.

it's always like this, it's been like this for...? a while now apparently. you've completely lost track of time. maybe a month or so if you're playing the guessing game.

well, if it wasn't obvious already, you've been taken hostage by an insane elven prince. probably the most insanely angelic, good-looking, prettiest and sick minded male you've ever met.

he really needs professional help. something that he can more than afford considering his house is almost made of gold, his herculean physique adored and draped only with the most expensive clothes, jewels, silks, soaps and scented creams and perfumes. his perfume, so extravagant, worth more than your vital organs all put together. that was the part you admired about elven people, they are so intelligent, so ahead of humans.

but to him? therapy is cheap and free! you're the first ever human he's laid eyes on and that's all he really needs. and really, you're the one to blame for his actions. it's all you. so you should take responsibility, right?

he's sought out humans before, trying to break the barrier between the two worlds and connect with them. he was damn near obsessed with coming into contact with the human realm and ruling over them like a god despite the fact that any sort of magic that threatens to break the barrier and connect the realms or offer passage through the two realms is absolutely forbidden. this is such a serious offense that if caught violating, can lead to public execution.

but your little caregiver did not! give one flying hoot at all, nor did the rules really even apply to royals as the royals participated in a lot of magical corruption and kept it all on the low.

so what a surprise! not really that he'd succeed in his conquest. not entirely since he'd only manage to bring one human to the elven realm, but now he knows for sure he's making great progress. and not only succeed in getting a nitty gritty palms on any human, but such a cute little human female like yourself.

humans are a lot more fragile, smaller, weaker, lesser intelligent beings, almost like a sub species from elves. so that's why you must be taken care of with so much extra love and attentiveness. all this was his reasoning for treating you like a minor being, enabling you and excuses for his weird kinks.

there was no way you'd ever dream of over powering him, not when a large veiny arm wrapped so tightly around your wrists, holding it behind your back, and the other with it's slender long digits effortlessly reaching your g spot.

it was 'bath time' or whatever, which called for a thorough inspection and cleanse. or just another excuse to use your body to his likings.

his tongue lap at your folds and clit, moaning in delight and relishing in all your juices spraying him. his voice muffled by your pussy, making wet sounds as he attempts to praise your gorgeous body: all of which sounds like incohesive unhinged, obsessive rambling of course.

if you ignore this scene and focus on other small things around you maybe you can, somewhat imagine yourself having a luxurious warm bath in the tub, with flowers and scented stuff in the water, scented candles creating a relaxing atmosphere, marvelous one-sided glass view... maybe not the one-sided glass view that's actually a little too scary to think about but yeah, you're having a nice little bath.

the most relaxing bath in the most prettiest and pearliest tiled bathroom you've ever been in.

your insides contorts though and you find yourself coming again undone on those perfectly manicured fingers of his, messing up his perfect face with your essence. your voice is loud and echoes throughout the bathroom, all the way into the bedroom and closet but never enough to each anyone's ears as he's casted multiple protective barrier spells to keep your presence unknown from other elven people. you've came like 5 times already and he won't let you rest, getting high off your pussy juices.

"poor baby, you look so tired, shhh don't worry~ mama will take care of everything, just relax and be good for me, okay? it'll all be over soon, my darling ^ mama will get you all cleaned up and dressed, right after this..." you wish you had the energy to welp out an 'ewwwwww da fuck?!' right about now but you were so weak and constantly sedated. you felt helpless as his bulbous tip hits your pussy, rubbing it back and forth to coat and lubricate himself with your juices. he leisurely teases, making your hole spasm and grasp around nothing, your body reacting in a lovely manner to his advances.

he licks his lips, only putting the tip in before quickly pulling back out. taking his time cause he wants to drive you insane like him. and luckily for him, his mind games always work so well.

his precum leaking and smearing you in the process as he rubs his whole length, measuring your pelvic area with his cock length and soon putting it in to see how far it'll actually go.

you almost blacked out. even though he prepped you well for this it still stings, he's just too big. and you? way too tight, squeezing him like you want every last drop of his seed, has him shivering and grunting in the process.

"fck- you're so tight, baby ngh~"

has him seeing stars and by the time he's balls deep in you and hitting the tip of your womb, you're a drooling and moaning mess. can't even control his obsessive thoughts from spilling out his mouth, he immediately gets to work on those hips too like a wild animal, only sparing a few seconds to sloppily kiss you and slap your thick behind.

it only takes a few minutes before he breaks his load inside you and shifts you into another position, manhandling you and roughing you up like a meat toilet, all for his own enjoyment and pleasure.

his long silky hair tickling your skin. when you think about it, he's so masculine with many feminine traits too, like the perfect balance actually and it is to be expected from an elf. he always wants to be in control, always wants to take care of you like a god watching over his creation. it sorta overlaps with him calling himself your mama but it makes sense in a way. he doesn't see himself as a woman in any sort of way, he just wants unrestricted authority over you.

your tears stream down your cheeks which he licks away and kisses, it only hurts your head trying to rationalize this or even understand it, your vision goes all blurry and for the next few rounds, your in and out of consciousness while being filled.

when you're awake again, you're draped in silk half naked and powdered up, you feel your caretakers strong arms wrapped around you, spooning you as rubs circles into your skin. he's also half naked with nothing but a cloth draped around himself. you both lay on a soft layered bed with many squishy pillows and blankies. fruits, steam veggies and grilled meat laid out on a silver tray for you to enjoy, though your stomach was filled with his cum.

[f4dedtouch]

╰┈➤ there for you

pairing: fawn!reader x s3 rafe

summary: fawn!reader getting asked out by a random guy on a date the one guys rafe specifically tells her not to go with. light angst with a happy ending.

warnings: mention of cursing, rafe being a bit mean.

you were curled up in bed, highlighter in hand, trying your best to stay focused on your notes. rafe was sprawled beside you, arm tucked behind his head, lazily scrolling through his phone like he had nowhere else to be. this was normal—him hanging around your place, making himself comfortable while you studied, offering absolutely zero help but keeping you company.

for a while, the only sounds in the room were the soft scratch of your pen and the occasional vibration of his phone. but your mind was elsewhere. you’d been holding onto something all day, and you knew if you didn’t say it now, you never would.

taking a quiet breath, you finally spoke. “so… i think i’m going on a date this weekend.”

rafe barely reacted at first, just a slow blink before his eyes flicked to you. “with who?”

you hesitated, shifting on the bed. “you know that guy… uh, logan? the one with the stupid expensive watch he never shuts up about? yeah, him.”

his jaw tensed immediately. “no. don’t go.”

you sighed, setting your highlighter down. “rafe—”

“no, i’m serious,” he cut in, sitting up now, his whole posture shifting. “that guy’s a total dick. i promise you, he’s not a good dude.”

“you say that about every guy,” you argued, crossing your arms. “every single time someone asks me out, you find something wrong with them! i’m tired of it, rafe. i actually wanna give him a chance.”

“and i’m tellin’ you not to waste your time,” he shot back, brows furrowing. “i know guys like him. he doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“oh, and you do?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted it. his expression hardened, something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

“yeah,” he said quietly. “i do.”

you swallowed, but the frustration was still there. “i just—i don’t get it. why do you care so much? why can you never just be happy for me?”

rafe scoffed, shaking his head as he stood up. “fine. do whatever you think is right.”

his voice was calm, but you could tell he was pissed. he grabbed his keys, casting you one last glance before muttering a quiet, “goodnight,” and walking out.

you laid back against your pillows with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling, feeling strangely unsettled.

you had put in the effort. the dress, the hair, the subtle makeup. you’d spent way too long deciding on an outfit, checking the mirror one last time before heading out.

and now, you were sitting alone at a candlelit table, fingers gripping your phone as you checked the time again. ten minutes late. fifteen. twenty.

the restaurant was buzzing with couples and conversation, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart as realization settled in.

he wasn’t coming. all that effort for nothing.

embarrassment crept in, your throat tightening as you quickly grabbed your bag and left, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stepped into the cool night air. you felt so stupid. this was supposed to be your first real date.

your hands shook as you unlocked your phone, pressing the only contact you could think of.

“rafe?” your voice wavered, barely above a whisper.

there was a beat of silence before he answered. “where are you?”

you swallowed hard. “he—he didn’t show up.”

another pause. and then, voice softer now, “i’ll be a little late, yeah? hang on for me.”

you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you.

when rafe finally pulled up, you immediately noticed the way his knuckles looked slightly bruised, like he’d been gripping somethin’ too hard. his breathing was controlled, but there was an edge to him, somethin’ unreadable in his expression. you didn’t say anything.

he didn’t say anything at first either, just opened the passenger door of his truck for you, just reached over and buckled your seatbelt for you, his fingers brushing against your arm for the briefest moment before pulling away.

the car was quiet as he started driving. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, shame curling in your stomach.

“i should’ve listened to you,” you mumbled finally, voice small.

rafe exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel. “yeah, you should’ve.”

your stomach twisted. “i just—” you shook your head. “i thought maybe, for once, things would be different.”

he glanced at you, and his voice softened. “that ain’t on you. some people are just assholes.”

you bit your lip, guilt gnawin’ at you. “are you mad?”

“no,” he said easily. “just pissed you looked that good for a guy who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

you blinked, caught off guard, but he just kept his eyes on the road, like he hadn’t just casually complimented you. I mean he always complimented you but this felt different.

a few minutes passed before he spoke again. “you hungry?”

you shook your head. “not really.”

“yeah, you are.” he pulled into the drive-thru of your favorite fast-food place without waitin’ for an answer. it was a tradition—eating in the car, parked in a quiet spot, just the two of you.

he ordered for you, knowing exactly what you liked, even throwin’ in your favorite dessert.

when you were parked, he handed you your food, watchin’ as you picked at it before finally takin’ a bite.

neither of you talked much, just eatin’ in comfortable silence, the familiar presence of him settlin’ somethin’ deep inside you.

when he finally drove you home, you turned to him, voice quieter now. “thanks for pickin’ me up. and for the food.”

“don’t mention it,” he said, jaw clenchin’ slightly.

but then, his expression softened, and he looked at you, somethin’ unreadable in his eyes. “hey,” he murmured. “if you need a date, let me know, alright? you don’t gotta go out with assholes.”

you let out a quiet laugh, shakin’ your head. “i’ll keep that in mind next time.”

he smirked slightly before leanin’ in, pressin’ a soft kiss to your forehead. “goodnight, sweet girl.”

your heart stuttered. “goodnight, rafe.”

he waited till you got inside then you watched as he pulled away, the glow of his taillights disappearin’ down the road.

what you didn’t know was that when rafe got home, he busied himself with paperwork, emails, anything to keep his hands from curlin’ into fists again.

because the sight of you sittin’ there, all dressed up and lookin’ like a dream, only to be stood up by some loser?

yeah. that was enough to make him wanna beat the guy into the ground all over again.

[sparklystarrrr]

I Was Enchanted to Meet You...

Synopsis: Reader has to go home, leaving all she loves and held dear to her heart behind not knowing if she will ever see this twisted world again.

Contains: Malleus x Fem! Reader, angsty, established relationship between reader and Malleus, lots of crying

⊰᯽⊱┈─❊✙❊─┈⊰᯽⊱

In Ramshackle (y/n) had been sat in her rickety room apart from Grim who's been getting entertained by the ghosts in the living room. Crowley had urgently called her as quickly as he could and she begrudgingly picked up the phone. "Dear Prefect! There is some large news I'd like to share with you!" His voice seemed a bit too cheery, but then again, he was oh so gracious... this was probably him pulling another stunt of making her his servant and cleaning up his messes"And what would this 'big news' be Crowley?" she sighed.

"We have successfully made a way for you to go back home!"

Her breath hitched. Her stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. Did she hear that right? She was going home? She was leaving for good? Was this for good? A million thoughts raced through her mind and Crowley's voice was tuned out. Her attention was put back on Crowley once she heard his loud laugh through the phone,"Get to packing, Prefect! You will be leaving as soon as possible today! Oh, how exciting this must be for you! Hahaha!"

She took deep breaths to ground herself and tried to sound as excited as she could while holding back tears from her (e/c) eyes. ".. Okay Crowley, t-thank you..!" Her voice cracked. How could she thank anyone for an outcome this detrimental. "Hah! Of course dear Prefect, for I am gracious!" With that, the call had ended.

(y/n) grunted and threw her phone across her room, a loud bang followed as it landed on the floor. She laid back on her bed with her fingers raked through her hair. Tears fell from her eyes like waterfalls that had been building up water for much too long. No matter how much she tried to ground herself the tears just completely spilled out.

Grim suddenly opened the door. "Henchman! Why are you throwing things-" He suddenly went quiet at the sight of (y/n) weeping harder than ever before. She looked like a complete mess. "Henchman what's goin' on..?" Clearly the small cat didn't properly know how to comfort someone but it was endearing that he tried. His paw rested on her forehead as he sat down next to her.

"Grim... I-I can't leave this place.... I c-can't go home!" She yelled through broken sobs. Grim's big blue eyes widened in shock"You're... going home?" His usual loud and scratchy voice was small and quiet now. (Y/n) grunted and shot up from her bed and angrily packed a bag of the very minimal amount of things she had from this place. Her hair was a frizzy mess and her packing job was even worse. She threw things around, breaking things like having a cracked phone screen and a few broken picture frames of her and her friends and... Oh Malleus...

She stared at the broken glass of the picture frame that held a picture of her and Malleus on their first date. It had been at a nice restaurant in Briar Valley and he got special reserved VIP seats for both her and him. It was where the two of them had shared their first kiss, where he had given her those black roses than he'd enchanted with the ability to never wilt, "Like our love for each other", he said while giving them to her.

Her sobs worsened. She was screaming, crying, begging for this world just to keep her there. Large tears dripped onto the pictures she held in her hands. Grim screamed at her while on the verge of tears himself, "Take me with you Henchman!" while shaking her shoulder, but his voice had been muted out of her own little world in her head as she feverishly kept packing until the bag had become heavy and over stuffed.

She hopped to her feet, leaving the bag behind. She ran out the door of her bedroom, down the stairs and nearly tripping while she was barely able to see through her never ending stream of tears. She rubbed her eyes and wiped her drippy nose with her sleeve while she kept running out the door. Even the ghosts of Ramshackle screamed after her asking where she was going.

Where was she going? Daisomnia of course. But it seems the House Warden of said dorm had beat her to it; already standing on the stone path in her dorm with a frazzled expression on his normally calm and collected face. His eyes widened at the sight of his lover sprinting towards him, completely disheveled. "MALLEUS!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Her chest heaved as she got closer to him with tears still slipping out of her puffy red eyes.

He stepped forwards to her running form and caught her panicking self in his strong arms and held her head against his chest while she wept."Malleus! I-I don't want to leave! I want to stay! I h-have to!" His large hand combed through her hair while he held back tears himself "I know, Child of Man. I had dreamed for months for how I would live this life alongside you. But it is true that human lives are much shorter than that of the faes. Perhaps... this is what we... I... must experience now. Had I known earlier that the Headmaster had been created a way for you to return home I would've done something sooner. I would have found a way for you to stay, Beloved. Though now, the current situation is inevitable. I detest the thought of you leaving."

His words made her cry, staining his blazer with her tears. "W-why... can't you just do something now..?" Her voice cracked and broke like shattering glass with the weight of her heavy heart. "Because as of right now I am not even sure of how you got here let alone how you are going to go back. I would've studied any way for you to stay but like I stated before, I'm unsure of how to get you back. However, I will... must find a way to get you back." It seemed as if there was a glint in his eye. Perhaps it was from the tears welling in his eyes, or maybe it was the new idea he had gained. Never the less, he guided her inside the Ramshackle dorm to gather her belongings.

⊰᯽⊱

The two including Grim had ended up in the mirror room. There stood Crowley, Crewel, Trein, Vargas and Sam all beside the mirror. Surrounding them had been every single student part of the Night Raven College. The more she looked around at the sea of her peers with somber faces, some even crying or holding back tears had felt like a final shot to her fragile heart. Malleus's shoulder shook while his tears fell slowly down his face.

She turned and held his face that had been tear stained. Their foreheads pressed as they connected with each other for the last time. "It was enchanting to meet you Malleus... I'll come back, wait for me..." A soft kiss was placed on his shaking lips. It was unheard of to see the Prince of Briar Valley so vulnerable to a mere human, but this human was not just anyone. It was her. The young woman who had been his first friend and his first lover. She was the young woman who he had decided early on would take the throne as his queen. Yet now, all he could do was weep seeing someone so dear to him leave right before his tearful eyes.

"I was enchanted to meet you, (y/n)."His large hands held her's that sat still, warmly pressing onto his slim pale face. It was like home. He made a final kiss on her soft and delicate palm.

She took a step back. Her hands left his face though his hands never left hers. She stepped back once again. Her shaky hands shook while she hiccuped with thick tears rolling down her cheeks. His instincts took over, pulling her hand close to him and enveloping her in a warm embrace. It was a bittersweet moment. She didn't want to leave him, or her friends, or this world.

She looked up at him with the same eyes that loved and adored him. The same exact (e/c) eyes that he would recognize her from in a heart beat. How could he forget those eyes, now welling with heavy tears that her eyes were not strong enough to hold. He was strong enough to hold them, but now he had been enfeebled. Unable to hold her tears nor his. "... (y/n)... I believe it is time for you to... leave." He whispered the last part of his words under his breath as if it would pain him to say it at full volume. His voice had slightly cracked while looking down at her with sorrow.

(Y/n) sighed shakily and peered up at him with a final smile. Her smile had felt strained. Her lips were chapped from the salty tears touching her lips and her throat ached from the sheer amount of screaming that left her mouth. Crowley held out a hand directing her toward the mirror. "I'll come back..."Her hands finally slipped from his and she stepped up to the mirror, staring at the void in front of her. She breathed deeply whilst staring at her reflection. A familiar green hand that brought her here had reached out once more.

Before her hand could grab the one in the mirror, she turned back to Malleus with a reassuring smile and a nod," Farewell for now, Malleus." She grabbed the hand and before she knew it, a void had pulled her into the dark mirror. Malleus stood idly while a commotion of wailing and loud talking from the students ensued. He stared at the mirror."... I know you'll come back... (Y/n)..." His back turned to the mirror and anyone else behind him and made his way to Ramshackle for the last time, never to return there again.

⊰᯽⊱┈─❊✙❊─┈⊰᯽⊱

Yes I listened to Enchanted by Taylor Swift while writing this... can you tell music inspires me to write?

(there will be MANY more Taylor Swift inspired fics from me...)

[ramshacklerumble]

slow down, it’s a science / he’s been waiting / to bring you down / snake-eyed with a sly smile / he can hold you / and shake you, child

twst fic | 440 words

Gia peeked into the Mostro Lounge’s VIP room through the crack between the doors. The lights weren’t on, but an alertness humming through their veins told them the room wasn’t empty. They slipped in, quickly and quietly shutting the doors behind them before the lights and the noise from the lounge shattered the calm.

Stepping through the darkness with the deftness of someone unfortunately familiar with the room, Gia caught the dark shape of the couches around the coffee table. An even darker shape sprawled across the one on the left— a shadow over shadow.

Gia avoided that couch and instead slid into the empty one on the right. They’d barely taken off their second shoe when the darker shape chuckled.

“You’re skipping, too?”

Gia looked for a glimmer of gold from the shape and found none. The creature, despite acknowledging their presence, kept his eyes closed. “On break.”

“Mm…” He said and didn’t follow it with anything else. It was probably not a reply and more a hum born of sinking back into sleep.

With a soft huff— what Gia wouldn’t do to be able to fall asleep that easily— they laid on their side. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to take a nap, but their body would surely welcome the rest.

“Gia.”

Their eyes snapped to the fluttering glimmer of gold now taking them into focus.

“C’mere.” said Floyd. They couldn’t see his smile, but they could hear it.

“…What?”

“You heard me.”

They didn’t get up immediately. Even though hearing their name in his voice hadn’t lost its novelty and always came with a shiver up their spine.

But they moved slowly off the couch, slowly around the coffee table and slowly sat on the edge of his couch. They sensed rather than saw his hand rise up and grab hold of their braid and start to tug down.

Likewise, he must have sensed the tension squaring their shoulders and balling their fists because he giggled. His weight shifted. His hand slipped around their back, pulling them down. Down. Until their head rested on his chest and they fit snugly between his legs.

Floyd shifted some more as if reaching for something over the back of the couch. Fabric rustled and weight fell on Gia’s back. His blazer. Another weight. His other arm.

Gia felt the deep rise and fall of his chest as he let out a sigh. Gia waited for him to say something else— he never did.

It was still dark, but Gia curled their fingers into the cloth of the blazer and pulled it over their shoulders, hoping to cover their face.

—

ngl i feel really self-conscious when i try to delve into the softer aspects of gia and floyd’s dynamic because when i look at floyd leech, i do not think ‘soft’ and sometimes i debate whether or not i’m delving into ooc territory, especially when i take in account that i wrote this a few weeks back when i just needed something self-indulgent. but like…listen. they’re in this weird place where they’re kinda testing out…whatever this is. gia is touch-starved and has secretly been thinking about this whole thing since it happened and floyd is…honestly just curious to see where this whole thing goes, getting under gia’s skin all the while.

tag list:

@cyanide-latte @inmateofthemind @tixdixl @winterweary @thehollowwriter @harryinramshackle

@theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @the-trinket-witch @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @kimikitti

@s-t-y-x @nightwingshero @water-writings @beneathsakurashade @oya-oya-okay @scint1llat3 @welcometomypersonalhell098 (dm to be added)