#dirt jumper

[diamondnokouzai]

so ive also been thinking about a gore/body horror based magical girl story based on the Horrors Of Puberty And Also Being Turned Into A Freaky Magic Monster By Your Magical Girl Mascot

[hopefulqueer]

the spiders feast tonight :`)

[scealaiscoite]

.☽༊˚ a hundred assorted prompts

¹⁾ raspberry lip gloss

²⁾ pajama bottoms

³⁾ a silver lighter

⁴⁾ fresh honey

⁵⁾ flushed cheeks

⁶⁾ a fogged-up mirror

⁷⁾ the imprint of a belt buckle on skin

⁸⁾ helium balloons

⁹⁾ a broken cocktail glass

¹⁰⁾ old playing cards

¹¹⁾ chipped green nail polish

¹²⁾ a brown leather wallet

¹³⁾ bullet holes in a wooden wall

¹⁴⁾ seashells lined up along the curve of a spine

¹⁵⁾ beaded curtains

¹⁶⁾ pomegranate seeds

¹⁷⁾ a carabiner heavy with keys

¹⁸⁾ fresh-cut orchids in a pottery vase

¹⁹⁾ vending machine cigarettes

²⁰⁾ an out of date map

²¹⁾ a creaky wooden gate

²²⁾ a minifridge stocked with budweiser and paracetamol

²³⁾ snapdragons growing between pavement slabs

²⁴⁾ smudged yellow eyeshadow

²⁵⁾ slept-in braids

²⁶⁾ library books that’ll never be returned

²⁷⁾ a pink-tiled shower

²⁸⁾ a honeybee on a linen shirtsleeve

²⁹⁾ burnt popcorn

³⁰⁾ watching an eclipse from bed

³¹⁾ a black lace bralette

³²⁾ a tattered patchwork quilt

³³⁾ blue raspberry bubblegum

³⁴⁾ a rusted fishing rod and a dried-up lake

³⁶⁾ the taste of whiskey on someone else’s lips

³⁷⁾ rose-scented candles burned down to the wick

³⁸⁾ crescent-shaped coffee stains on a wooden tabletop 

³⁹⁾ odd socks 

⁴⁰⁾ a loose thread on a jumper sleeve

⁴¹⁾ warm sheets on cold skin

⁴²⁾ amber-tinged perfume

⁴³⁾ gold jewelry 

⁴⁴⁾  a calloused palm against a soft cheek 

⁴⁵⁾ a busted headlight

⁴⁶⁾ sunrise from a jail cell

⁴⁷⁾ hand tattoos that weave around fingers

⁴⁸⁾ coconut shampoo

⁴⁹⁾ a doorbell sounding in the middle of the night

⁵⁰⁾ ladybugs crawling across a headstone

⁵¹⁾ grass stains on blue jeans

⁵²⁾ a loaded saddlebag

⁵³⁾ a dusty wine cellar

⁵⁴⁾ a bikini top draped over a bedpost

⁵⁵⁾ snow in july

⁵��⁾ dirt-red mountaintops

⁵⁷⁾ goosebumps in a heatwave

⁵⁸⁾ an empty dinnertable

⁵⁹⁾ a fresh manicure and bruised knuckles

⁶⁰⁾ zombie movies

⁶¹⁾ bitten lips

⁶²⁾ dark eyes full of tears

⁶³⁾ a soft cast in summertime

⁶⁴⁾ stale coffee in paper cups

⁶⁵⁾ frozen peaches on a black eye

⁶⁶⁾ acrid smoke

⁶⁷⁾ bound hands

⁶⁸⁾ animal tracks

⁶⁹⁾ unwound vhs tapes

⁷⁰⁾ cartoon plasters

⁷¹⁾ lipstick marks on shirt collars

⁷²⁾ silver bangles

⁷³⁾ sharing a coat in a downpour

⁷⁴⁾ fields with grass at waist-height

⁷⁵⁾ daisy chains up to your forearm

⁷⁶⁾ rolled-up shirtsleeves

⁷⁷⁾ the smell of bleach in a dark room

⁷⁸⁾ a shared sleeping bag

⁷⁹⁾ a new haircut

⁸⁰⁾ swimsuit tanlines

⁸¹⁾ perfume clinging to a pillow

⁸²⁾ lollipops dangling between lips

⁸³⁾ a badly-timed grin

⁸⁴⁾ old books

⁸⁵⁾ tongues stained from slushies

⁸⁶⁾ waking up in a hailstorm

⁸⁷⁾ dying sunflowers

⁸⁸⁾ colourful sunglasses

⁸⁹⁾ the last pew

⁹⁰⁾ tall, rattling windows in a storm

⁹¹⁾ six missed calls

⁹²⁾ sticks of incense burned down to the last

⁹³⁾ bunk beds

⁹⁴⁾ matching sets

⁹⁵⁾ ruined mascara

⁹⁶⁾ a boxing ring

⁹⁷⁾ stained glass windows

⁹⁸⁾ fairy forts

⁹⁹⁾ a cluttered bedside table

¹⁰⁰⁾ a hangover in the evening

[graynvmbr]

The Alchemy | Harry Potter

pairing: harry james potter x female!reader (no use of y/n)

summary: inspired by one line from taylor swift's "the alchemy"

word count: 1.3k

The May sun dipped low on the horizon, bathing the Quidditch pitch in hues of gold and pink. The air was crisp but warm, a perfect evening to cap off an exhilarating match. The Gryffindor team had just claimed the Quidditch Cup in a match so intense it left the crowd breathless and on the edge of their seats. Harry stood at the centre of the pitch, his fingers wrapped tightly around the golden Snitch, his heart pounding not just from the game but from something far greater.

Around him, chaos reigned. Teammates tackled him in celebration, red and gold banners fluttered wildly in the stands, and the roar of the crowd was deafening. Yet Harry barely registered any of it. His focus was elsewhere.

He scanned the crowd, his green eyes darting over the sea of jubilant faces until they found yours. You were making your way down the steps of the stands, your bright eyes locked on his. Your radiant smile made his chest tighten. Unlike the bundled-up days of winter matches, tonight you wore a light jumper, the sleeves casually pushed up, your hair catching the last golden rays of sunlight. Harry’s breath hitched as he watched you wave at him, your pride and joy evident in every line of your face.

Without hesitation, Harry broke away from the throng of well-wishers and teammates. He brushed past congratulatory pats on the back and jubilant shouts, his sole focus on reaching you. As soon as you were within arm’s reach, he swept you into his arms, spinning you around in a move so carefree it felt like you two were the only ones on the pitch. Your laughter rang out, a sound that made Harry’s world feel whole.

“You did it, Harry!” you exclaimed as he set you down, your hands instinctively moving to cup his face, your thumbs brushing the dirt smudges on his cheekbones.

“We did it,” he corrected, his voice low. His forehead pressed gently against yours, and his grin was as breathless as yours. “You’re my good luck charm.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your hands dropping to his chest, where his heart thundered beneath your palm. “Pretty sure it was all you. That dive at the end? Incredible.”

Harry tilted his head, his expression softening. “Couldn’t have done it without knowing you were watching.”

Before you could reply, he kissed you—a fleeting yet tender touch that sent warmth blooming through your chest. The crowd around you erupted in cheers again, as if Gryffindor’s victory was amplified by their captain’s public display of affection. You pulled back, your cheeks flushed, but Harry didn’t let go. Instead, his arms tightened around you, anchoring you to the moment.

—

The Gryffindor common room was alive with celebration by the time you returned to the castle. Someone had bewitched the lanterns to float and glow in Gryffindor colours, and music could be heard out of the old muggle radio someone had brought. Butterbeer flowed freely, and the room buzzed with stories of the match.

Harry, hoisted onto the shoulders of his teammates, looked every bit the hero. His messy hair glinted in the light, and the grin on his face was pure joy. You stood off to the side with Hermione, sipping butterbeer as Ron regaled a group with his animated retelling of the Quaffles he kept out of the Gryffindor rings.

“You’re the only one who can get him to leave this madness,” she joked, nudging you with her elbow.

As if he heard her, Harry’s eyes found yours across the room. His smile softened, the noise of the room fading as his attention honed in on you. Excusing himself from his teammates, he made his way through the crowd, his gaze never leaving yours.

When he reached you, he held out a hand. “Dance with me.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “We’re in the middle of a celebration, Harry. Everyone’s watching.”

He grinned, unfazed. “Doesn’t matter, let them watch. This is our moment.”

Laughing, you let him pull you into the middle of the room. The energy around you hummed with excitement, but in his arms, the chaos melted away. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, swaying gently to the rhythm of the room.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, resting your head against his chest.

“And you love it,” he replied, his lips brushing the top of your hair.

You smiled to yourself, savouring the quiet intimacy in the middle of the party. The world fell away as you danced, and when Harry whispered, “I love you,” it wasn’t just words. It was a promise, woven into every beat of his heart that you felt beneath your cheek.

—

As the party wound down and the last of the laughter and cheers faded into the evening, the atmosphere in the common room shifted. The music softened, the lanterns dimmed, and the once lively chatter turned into quiet conversations. The Gryffindor common room, still glowing with a warm, celebratory aura, now felt peaceful, as if it had wrapped itself in a comfortable, familiar embrace.

You and Harry, both a little tired but content, found a quiet spot by the fire, away from the last few lingering guests. The flames crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the walls as you sat together on the couch, your fingers entwined.

Harry leaned back, his head resting against the armrest, and you nestled beside him, your legs curled up underneath you. The silence between you was comfortable, the kind that came from years of knowing each other inside and out. You could hear the soft hum of the castle around you—the distant sound of footsteps in the hallways, the occasional flicker of magic, the calming night air that seemed to settle in after the frenzy of the match.

Harry shifted slightly, his eyes drifting to the fire as he let out a content sigh. "You know, it still feels unreal. All of it—the Cup, the victory... and you, here with me."

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. "It’s real, Harry," you whispered, "and it’s exactly where we’re meant to be."

His hand found yours again, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a gentle caress. “I’m not sure how I got so lucky,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve always been there, from the very start. Even when things seemed impossible.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you lifted your head to look at him, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. “You’ve always had a way of making everything feel possible, Harry. Even when the odds were against us.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he leaned forward, kissing your forehead gently. “And you’ve always been my home.”

The room felt warmer now, as though your love had filled it completely, and you rested against him once more, the contentment of the day settling over you both. “I think we’ve earned some quiet time,” you said, closing your eyes for a moment, savouring the peace of being together.

Harry’s hand gently stroked your hair as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective, comforting embrace. “Just us. No rush. We can take all the time we want.”

And so, as the last remnants of the celebration faded away, the two of you remained there in the quiet of the common room, surrounded by the warmth of your love. There was no need for grand gestures or loud celebrations now—just the two of you, together, in the soft glow of the fire, with the rest of the world waiting patiently outside.

In that moment, it was perfect. And nothing else mattered.

back to my harry potter masterlist

[revelboo]

Do you have any thoughts on Cliff jumper? I think he's neat in a totally healthy way 🫣

Never tried to write for him…

TKO

Cliffjumper x Reader-accident

• “No,” Cliffjumper growls, servos flexing against the urge to snatch the weapon back from the engineer, who’s not even listening to him. Hasn’t been listening this whole time. “I don’t want it improved. I just want it to stop overheating. That’s it.” From the corner of his optic, he spots the human. Wheeljack’s little…pet? Friend? He has no idea. It’s staring at him, though, that scrutiny unsettling. Why anyone wants something so squishy and just weird around is beyond him.

• “Sure. Right,” Wheeljack murmurs in that tone he knows too well. The engineer’s lost in his own world and is not only going to frag up his gun, he’s probably going to completely destroy it. “I’ve got this.” Sure. Swallowing a growl as he gives up and stalks out of the lab, he’s aware of the human watching and just can’t get why it’s kept around, allowed to roam the halls like it belongs. It’s just a weak, little organic from this miserable mudball they’re all trapped on.

• There is one thing he enjoys about this world. Leaning into a curve in the road later that day, he soaks in the quiet. Sometimes he just needs to get away from the noise of the Ark, let the solitude of this world sink into him. Prowl and Red Alert still insist on patrols even though he’s never seen any sign of the Decepticons this close to base, but he’s not complaining. It wouldn’t matter if he did. There’s so many Autobots stranded and he’s never been the biggest or strongest. Always there, always overlooked no matter how hard he works.

• He sees the truck on the side of the road ahead, the two humans standing outside it. The bigger one throwing his arms up as the smaller one walks away. Some petty human argument. He’s almost to them when the bigger one grabs the smaller human’s arm, wrenching on it as the smaller one struggles, longer hair catching the sun. Yanking loose as the other lifts its free hand in a fist and stumbling back. Falling into the road in his path.

• He transforms without thinking, peds leaving the road as he throws himself over that little body and slams into the dirt, rolling and swearing. When he lifts his helm, the bigger human is gone, that truck speeding away. The other one is still sprawled in the road staring at him with wide eyes and frag, he remembers Optimus’s decree that if they’re seen, reveal themselves to a human, they can’t let them escape. Can’t hurt them either. One of them is long gone, growing ever smaller in the distance. But the other? Frag him. One is bad enough, but he can’t let two of them see him and get away.

• Laying sprawled in the road in frozen horror, your brain just keeps bouncing from the fact that your boyfriend just left you to the giant, metal monster slowly regaining its huge feet. And you can’t move, can barely breathe. The sound of those heavy feet approaching finally breaks through your shock. Because a huge hand is reaching for you and nope. Not happening. Rolling, you’re scrambling to your feet, lunging to avoid those huge fingers swiping at you with a frustrated snarl. Then you’re running flat out in a blind terror, because that thing is chasing after you.

• Primus, it’s fast for such a tiny thing. Screeching nonstop as it races off into the desert. And oh, it’s tempting to just let it go. The sun’s baking him, surely a fragile, little organic wouldn’t last long out there. Problem solved and he wouldn’t be saddled with the thing. It’d get lost out there and probably never be seen or heard from again. Not his problem to deal with.

• He keeps chasing after it, anyway. Guilt spurring him on. He doesn’t want a human to look after. Doesn’t need this mess to deal with. Ahead, it stumbles and this time he manages to get a grip on it, almost dropping it again in surprise at how disturbingly soft that little body is in his servos. It screams out again, thrashing like a mad thing even though it must know it can’t win. That doomed, desperate struggling is impressive in a way. Refusing to give up. Wild eyes stare up at him as he adjusts his grip on it to make sure it can’t wriggle free and get accidentally dropped to its death. He can feel that little heart pounding so quickly against his servos as it keeps fighting, screaming out for help that’s not coming. “Sorry, but you’re not going anywhere,” he sighs. You’re both fragged.

Next

[lillsisamarshmallow]

Finally at Peace (19)

Summary: Y/n spends her day hanging out with the hybrids, from gardening, to watching documentaries, and star gazing at night. But despite how much they've all settled into their new house, why cant she sleep peacefully?

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Mentions of abandonment, Let me know if I missed any!

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I laughed hard as chunks of dirt splattered onto Namjoon's face from Jin’s shovel. The expression he gave made it so much better and I lost my balance tumbling back slightly, my bottom firmly seated on the ground now. Jin turned to the younger man and began laughing at him, his laugh sounded similar to a horse’s ‘neigh’ and that made it all the more funnier.

Namjoon begrudgingly flicked the dirt from his shirt and then wiped it off his face whilst giving it a death glare. I kept laughing as I stomped and kicked my feet lightly on the ground below me. The three of us had been trying to fix up the garden bed so when spring rolled around, we could plant flowers and things. So far it had been going well, mostly clearing stuff out and pulling out weeds, which Namjoon had been holding onto.

“Seriously?” Namjoon asked as he kept trying to get more dirt off his face with the same hand that was holding the dirt cover weeds, resulting in a much larger smudge to appear on his left cheek. Jin couldn't stop laughing and looked away from the younger man. I snorted again before twisting myself around so I could sit on my knees. I reached for Namjoon’s face with the bottom of my shirt wrapped around my hand. I did my best to wipe most of it off his face.

“Good as new.” I smiled at him before grabbing my shovel again. 

We stayed outside for a little longer until we had decided that it was getting too cold to stay outside and we retired indoors where it was much warmer. Sighing, as I already felt much cleaner in a new shirt and jumper that weren't covered in cold dirt, I hopped down the stairs and into the kitchen where I began making myself a mug of hot chocolate.

I slowly stirred the drink, mixing all the ingredients with the hot water. I watched as the small bubbles began to circulate around the teaspoon. Suddenly, I felt two arms snake their way around the sides and my waist, resting on my abdomen, I jumped at the sudden contact, not even hearing them walk up behind me. They rested their chin on my shoulder and let out a breathy chuckle as my heart was racing, remembering I was safe, I tried to slow my racing heart.

I turned around to face the sneaky hybrid, Jimin gave me a sweet but smug smile and I sighed as I shook my head slightly, a goofy smile plastered on my face as I went back to peacefully stirring my drink. I made small talk with Jimin as he refused to leave me alone, clinging to my back like a baby koala. I had to waddle into the living room while being careful to not spill my drink. I plopped myself down onto the couch, Jimin went to sit down, but at the last minute changed his mind and sat over with Yoongi. I smiled at the 2 of them as they sat together on the couch watching the show on the TV.

I watched with them for a long while before Jimin got up and decided to do something else. I watched as he reluctantly left Yoongi’s embrace. I smiled at the two of them.

“Something wrong?” 

I blinked a few times as I registered the fact that Yoongi was asking me a question.

“Nope! Just a bit cold.” I responded, I wasn't exactly lying as that was the reason that I was cold, but that wasn't the reason I was looking over at him. I watched curiously as he fiddled with the blanket that was loosely covering his legs.

“Come here.” He said as he spread out the blanket more.

“Oh, no it's okay-”

“Don't be stubborn.” He interrupted me, cutting me off with a smile on his face. I smiled to myself as I got up from where I was on the couch and walked over to where he was. I sat next to him as he spread the blanket over me. I pulled it up to my shoulders before I leaned on him as we watched the tv,

“You humans are always so cold.” He chuckled. I smiled at his words.

“Good thing I have 7 different heaters then, right?” I joked as we kept watching the show on the tv whilst sitting really close to each other. I could feel his natural hybrid body heat warming me up and I snuggled in further to him, enjoying how much warmer I was feeling. Yoongi chuckled as he wrapped an arm around me loosely.

At some point in the later evening, I had found myself wandering around looking for something to do or some company, as I walked up the stairs I spotted one of the doors open, I knocked 3 times before poking my head around the corner to see inside. There was a desk with a chair across from the door, covering the left wall and next to the door was a couch with a small coffee table in the centre, the other side was left more open without a carpet on the floor either. The chair turned around to face the door and Hobi smiled at me and beckoned me to come inside, I walked in and closed the door behind me.

I turned to sit on the couch and saw that Namjoon was sitting down too. I gave him a quick smile before I took a seat on the couch. I sat with the 2 of them and chatted for a while. Noticing how much warmer it was in here I decided to take off my jumper, I pulled it over my head, and I quickly fixed my hair before roughly folding the jumper and putting it down on the unused coffee table.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

I looked up at Hoseok as he scanned the shirt I was wearing, I looked down at the shirt, pulling at the bottom to see it clearly. It was definitely not mine, but I wasn't sure exactly whose it was.

“I've been looking for that shirt…” He mumbled as he confirmed it was his. I felt a mix of emotions, but I couldn't ignore the fact that I was wearing his shirt, one he had been looking for.

“O-Oh, sorry. I'll go change and give it back.” I stuttered out as I went to stand up so I could go change and give him back his shirt that I had been wearing for most of the day. I felt a bit guilty about it, but I also couldn't ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

“No, it's okay. You look cute in my shirt.” he said with a knowing smile as he looked at me, making eye contact. “You can keep it.” The small amount of guilt I had completely dissipated as my stomach bloomed into its own spring, butterflies, flowers, blossoms, everything, I could feel my face heat up and I started to relax back into the couch a little more, I mumbled a quiet thanks before feeling completely incapable of talking.

Hobi chuckled and looked over to Namjoon as they spoke about something, I was too in my own thoughts to understand what it was.

Coming back to reality I tuned into their conversation, hearing them talk about the other pack mates reminded me of a question that I had been meaning to ask. I waited until they had finished their current back and forth to ask my question

“Jimin and Yoongi are quite close, aren't they?” I asked the two hybrids, Namjoon looked towards me and glanced back at Hobi who had turned his chair to face between me and Namjoon while he looked at me.

“Yeah, they are. They've known each other the longest so it makes sense how close they are.” He said whilst he seemed to do some quick maths in his head.

I hummed in understanding, but I didn't really understand. I have more questions now. I wasn't sure if I should push the topic further, but they didn't seem nervous or unwilling to answer my questions, so I pushed forward. “Really? They knew each other before the rest of you?”

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah, before we were all together, they had each other.” He explained. “They used to stay with this nice old man. I don't remember his name.” Namjoon looked towards Hobi to help him out with what he wasn't remembering, Hobi hummed before speaking.

“I don't think they told us? But yeah, they lived with that man for a long time. We never got know to him because by that time he had…already passed. Jimin and Yoongi were wandering the streets and we just so happened to run into them.”

“Oh...”

I wasn't sure what to say to that, they used to stay with someone else? An elderly man. My thoughts wandered as I thought about why some who they had described as kind and caring would throw them out onto the streets.

“Wait, so why would he kick them out? I thought you said he was nice.” I asked curiously, I saw Namjoon hesitate and think for a second, like he wasn't sure if he should tell me, before answering my question.

“He was, but…his family wasn't.” He paused. “They weren't interested in giving hybrids any of the inheritance and didn't want to ‘bear the burden’ of looking after 2 of them…”

Namjoon seemed to struggle with what he was saying, and I reached a hand out and wrapped it around his, giving a firm squeeze and smiling at him when he met my gaze. “That’s horrible.” I spoke while looking up and then over to Hoseok who looked down at his hands before looking up and making eye contact with me.

“Yeah…Not long after that kind old man died, the family took Yoongi and Jimin and left them in an alleyway.”

My heart broke at the story, it was not something I had imagined to be real. I could feel anger bubbling up inside, but I had to remind myself that it was the past and I wouldn't be able to change anything. What matters is that they are here now, they have a loving pack, a safe home, and they have me. “Good thing they found you guys then, right?”

“Yeah, after we found them there were 6 of us, it was harder to stay undetected, and we had to share more food, but it was easier to defend ourselves after that.”

It was hard to hear how bad things were and had been for them. I felt a small tear build up in the corner of my eye and my chest felt heavy and ached. “I’m glad you all found each other.” I smiled brightly at them both, trying to lift the mood of the room.

“We’re happy we found you.” Hobi beamed as he looked over at me, his cute orange fox ears making him all the more cuter. “You saved us.”

You saved me.

I stayed with Hobi and Namjoon for a few hours as we just chatted and talked about things. As the afternoon started turning into the evening, I started feeling a bit tired. I leaned my head on Namjoon’s shoulder as they kept talking. I covered my mouth and closed my eyes as I yawned from tiredness. I could definitely go for a nap, but i wasn't sure if it was so late in the day that if I did, I would be awake all night.

Namjoon and Hoseok paused their conversation as they looked over at me when I yawned.

“Sorry.” I said as I smiled at them.

“No, No, it’s fine.” Namjoon assured me, I smiled and just nodded my head against his shoulder as I looked over to Hobi who was looking back at me sweetly with a soft and affectionate smile on his face. 

I felt my face heat up slightly under his gaze, I gave him a genuine smile as Namjoon started talking again and the two of them fell into a loose conversation while I sat and listened quietly. I listened to them intently as they spoke casually, I occasionally piped into the conversation too, but I was beginning to feel very tired from the day, I reached for my phone on the table before returning back to my position with my head resting and Namjoon’s shoulder.

I switched on my phone to see what time it was, and as I checked the clock, blue light started to enter my eyes. Since it was just about four in the afternoon, taking a little nap wasn't too late. I couldn't help but smile as I gazed at my phone's lock screen picture and the associated memories.

“Are we your lock screen?” I heard Namjoon ask curiously from above me.

I looked up at him as he asked his question before I looked back down at my phone, he was right. My lockscreen picture was Me, Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, and Hobi. I took it when the other younger members were playing a game at the festival. I was in front holding the camera, Hobi stood next to me on the right side of the photo, posing with a big grin on his face.

Jin stood right behind me, making me look short. He smiled and was also posing. Namjoon stood back from us a bit, over Jin’s shoulder, so you could only see the top half of him, he was looking at the camera smiling. Lastly, Yoongi stood much further back, and he was definitely not posing, we had caught him off guard before he could smile so he was half turned to the camera with a bit of a glare. This photo always made me giggle.

“Yeah, it’s the photo we took at the Carolfarm Festival a while back.” I answered him as I had a big smile on my face before I turned the phone around so Hobi could see it. Just as I did, he got up and sat down on the couch, lifting up my legs so he could and sit down before putting them down on his lap.

I adjusted where I pointed my phone so he could also see. I watched his face change into a big smile before he started laughing, no doubt at the photo and how only half of us actually knew it was being taken.

“I love that photo!” He exclaimed while still laughing, his laugh was contagious, causing me and Namjoon to chuckle too.

“I feel so special.” Namjoon said in a joking tone while holding his hand up to his chest.

I giggled more at his words. “I have all of you guys on my phone.” I explained as I opened my phone with my password, swiping a few times until I could get a clear view of my home wallpaper without the apps in the way.

The wallpaper was Jimin in the centre, taking a selfie. I was standing behind him on the left side, right about to whack a pillow into the side of his head from behind, I had a crazy look in my eye. To the right was Taehyung and Jungkook in the background on the bed. Jungkook was blurry as he was moving when we took the photo, but he was crawling across the bed towards Taehyung, who stood on the other side. His mouth was wide open as he was yelling at the time, he was also slightly motion blurred as he was also moving when we took the photo.

The whole background embodied the chaos that was the younger pack members and me when we were trapped in a room together. I couldn't help but burst into laughter as I remember when and how this photo was taken. I moved it so Namjoon could see it better before I turned the phone to Hobi. Both of them immediately burst into laughter alongside me.

“What on earth was Kook doing?” Namjoon asked from above me, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I think...I think he was trying to bite Taehyung.” I said between laughs as I explained the situation to them both. The three of us continued to giggle and laugh. We talked about my backgrounds, eventually I opened up my photos and we went through them as I showed them some of my favourites. I spent most of the afternoon with Namjoon and Hobi, just talking and chatting and enjoying their time and company, and I took a nap because I was incredibly tired.

It was later that night when my peaceful mood had been interrupted, I was sketching and planning ideas for a new cafe. The plans had been put on hold until we settled into a new house, but me and Seoyeon were still planning a new location. Business was booming and we were quickly outgrowing the small corner space that we had.

“Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!” Someone yelled out, repeating my name a few more times, the voice muffled by the walls until it wasn't, and their yelling was as clear as day. “Y/n!” I turned to face the door in a panic, worried something was wrong, Jungkook came bursting into my room, Taehyung following right behind him.

“What? What's wrong? Is everyone okay?” I asked frantically. Jungkook took a second to gain his balance and catch his breath while shaking his head, Taehyung gave me a thumbs up. Knowing that everything was okay my nerves calmed as I waited for Kook to tell me whatever it was that had him running up to my room.

“We’re having a picnic, and Jin said that there’s a meteor shower tonight, so we're all going to go and watch it.”

Excitement filled me as I thought about seeing a meteor shower and shooting stars, something I had never seen before. I nodded my head as I quickly packed up and slipped on some warm clothes, that being a jumper and some winter leggings, and then followed the boys downstairs.

 As I walked around the corner I was still pulling the jumper into place and adjusting it, I watched Jimin rush around like he was looking for something. Clearly, he found it as he bent down and scooped his arms around something.

He turned around, in his grasp dangling, was a very tired, grumpy looking Yoongi cat, his little cat body swayed slightly as Jimin walked around with him. I snorted slightly at them as I watched the duo disappear out the back door, which we soon also went through.

We walked to the middle of our backyard where I saw a large blanket layed on the ground, a few small ones were folded up on top alongside some pillows too, there was a small group of basic snacks piled in the middle too. Jimin plopped down onto the blanket with Yoongi next to him, finally letting go of the kitty. Jungkook and Taehyung joined him as the three of them sat together at the front of the blanket.

I smiled warmly at the three of them even though they were facing away from me, I glanced down at Yoongi who had curled himself up on one of the pillows, I giggled at that before sitting myself down beside him, I gave him a few pats before his attention was briefly stolen away by the rest of the pack joining us, Namjoon sat on the other side of yoongi and starting petting him too.

Jin sat down next to me, even when we were sitting down, he towered over me, he smiled down at me before moving himself on the blanket and laying down, motioning for me to lay down too and explaining that the meteor shower should start soon. I turned to the side before lying down and resting my head on Jin's chest and hanging my legs over Namjoon’s lap.

I moved Yoongi's pillow, much to his dismay, so that he would get a better view of the sky and not be crushed by my legs. He gave me a look before yawning and glancing away. Hobi sat down also, laying his head on my stomach. I laughed internally as we all sat in a puzzle like fashion, but it was comfy so who cares. Jin shifted and a few seconds later a blanket was thrown over me to keep me warm, I thanked him before snuggling into it.

I turned to yoongi whose feline face lined up with mine, so close I couldn't see anything other than his black fur. He opened his mouth and yawned, stretching his little paws out in front of him before pulling them in under himself whilst staring at me. I scrunch my nose up as his cat breath hit my nose from so close.

“Blegh. You have cat breath.” I whispered to the small kitty in front of me. He stared silently at me before slightly opening his mouth.

“Meow?”

The noise that came out from him was cute and it almost seemed as though he was confused at what I said, but I knew damn well he understood everything, so I gave him a sarcastic smile before looking away.

Just in time, as Jin announced and pointed out the first meteor, that it was starting, everyone went quiet as we stared up at the sky. One streak moved across the night sky. 

The sky went back to its stagnant unmoving state before it exploded with streaks shooting across the sky, lighting up the yard. My mouth was open and agape as I had never seen something so pretty.

“It’s beautiful.” I said mesmerised, I heard a few hums of agreement as we all laid back and watched the sky. It was beautiful, the many stars that most had grown used to were now accompanied by flying rocks as they shined and lit up the sky, travelling from far away and coming past our earth, past the moon, before continuing on their journey.

It was gorgeous and magical, I was in awe so I couldn’t turn my eyes away.

“I love that look.”

I turned to face Jin with a confused look on my face.

“The way you look at things that you love.” He said as he looked down at me, his face showed genuine adoration as his eyes scanned over my face and he smiled. “Do you even know how pretty you are?

I wasn't sure what to say to that, I never thought of myself as being exceptionally pretty, I was okay, but there were definitely girls that were prettier. 

“I have you guys to keep reminding me.”

I smiled up at him, finally thinking of an answer. He smiled back at me lovingly before moving a hand to my head and gently playing with my hair as I turned to look up at the sky once again.

We passed around snacks as we all sat out under the moonlight, facing up towards the sky as we watched the stars. As I bit down into my strawberry and watched the meteors I couldn’t help but wish this moment would last forever, I would give anything to be able to experience this moment with the 8 of us every day.

But unfortunately, time stops for no one, and I slowly found myself drifting off, closing my eyes for just a second turned into a few minutes, turned into 20 minutes, and turned into me fully falling asleep. With my head resting on Seokjin's lap and Yoongi’s small cat body curled up on my stomach I fell asleep under the stars.

I woke up in my room, it was dark, the only light being from the moon which illuminated my room in a bluish glow. I raised my hand up to rub my eyes as I tried to remember what had happened. 

I sat up and looked down at my lap as I scratched my head. I was tucked into my own bed, but I didn’t remember falling asleep here. I looked out the window and up at the clear, dark sky, squinting slightly as it started coming back to me. I remembered that we were watching the meteor shower, outside. I must have fallen asleep. I concluded.

Thinking maybe I could get in another hour or two of sleep, I rubbed my face once more. I laid back down in my bed and got comfortable so I could fall asleep again.

My position didn't feel right, so I rolled over. I turned over and gave my feet a little kick. It wasn't right either. In an attempt to make it work, I pulled my knees up closer to my chest and wrapped my arms around myself, hoping that would work. It didn’t. 

I turned over onto my back and huffed out as I pulled the blankets down. I couldn’t sleep. Even lying alone in my bed made me feel strange in a way I couldn't express. 

My body was itching for me to get up, and so I did. I threw my blankets off and swung myself up before I got out of the bed. I stood in the centre of my room, the moonlight shining on me, and I slowly turned in circles, trying to find something to occupy me, something to scratch the itch inside of me. 

I huffed out as I realised that whatever it was that I needed, wasn’t in the room. I wrapped my blanket around my shoulders before I slowly and quietly opened my door and stepped out into the cold and dark hallway. I instinctively wrapped my arms over each other to keep myself warm as I shuffled down the hallway until I could see the door at the end.

I walked up to it until I was standing in front of it, staring down, I could see my own silhouette cast onto it from the moonlight. I took a deep breath, I shouldn’t open it, I really shouldn’t open it.

I reached out and grabbed onto the cool metal handle, biting my lip. Looking down at it, I hesitated because I knew I shouldn't open it, but I couldn't help but listen to the part of me that was yelling at me to do it. 

I took a deep breath before I slowly pushed open the wooden door, a dark abyss awaiting me. I blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the new light levels. The moon light shone in through a window and I could just barely see a silhouette of a very large bed, with many people on it. 

I could hear the light snores and breathing coming from inside the room as I looked at the bed. I couldn’t explain why my body seemed to ache and my heart felt heavy. All I wanted to do was to crawl into the bed. It looked so comfortable and cosy. 

I could see how subtle the bumps in the bed moved, slowly rising up and down as the hybrids beneath breathed peacefully. I could see a tail hanging down the side, the darkness of it being like no other. Taehyung. I could also see a pair of long furry ears that would occasionally twitch. Namjoon.

Was it weird that I ached so badly to join them? Was it wrong? I couldn’t explain it. I wanted to walk over and snuggle into the pile, but I couldn’t, I shouldn’t.

I bit on my lower lip as I stood in the doorway debating with myself while observing the hybrids, who were soundly asleep. Deciding it was best to close the door and go back to my own room I took a step back and began begrudgingly and slowly closing the door in front of me.

But something caught my eye.

A pair of glowing eyes emerged in the shadows as I turned to face the bed, which was lit by the beautiful moon.

Suddenly, someone on the bed sat up. They swayed a little, so even though I couldn't see their face because of the darkness, I could tell they were tired. I just stood there staring at them. I had been discovered. 

I tried to get out of the room and shut the door, but as I went to do so, my blanket got stuck beneath the bottom. I continued to strain and tug on the blanket, shaking the door back and forth in the hopes of freeing it.

“Y/n.”

I froze as I heard my name spoken, my movement stopped as I looked over to the bed. They didn't say anything else, but they opened their arms as an invitation for me to walk over. I hesitated for a moment, questioning whether I was seeing things correctly in the darkness, but when I saw them reach out towards me, beckoning me over to them, I knew I saw correctly.

I dropped the blanket from my shoulders and walked over towards them on the bed. The room was shrouded in darkness, so I was careful where I walked, the only light coming from the moon shining through the window. I still couldn't quite make out their facial features, but based on the shape of their ears and themself, I was pretty sure of who it was. As I stood right in front of them, as close to the bed as I could possibly be without crawling on it. They reached out and wrapped their arms around me before pulling me down into the bed with them.

I gasped quietly from surprise as they shuffled around, moving the blankets, before pulling them over me so I was nice and warm. I snuggled into the blankets and pillows as my body finally felt at ease, that part of me that was longing for them now disappeared and the itch inside me had been scratched.

They pulled me into their chest tightly to keep me warmer, I smiled to myself as I closed my eyes, my body finally being able to give in to the tiredness. I could hear the soft snores and breathing of the other around me, and soon my own soft breaths joined theirs as I fell asleep, my mind finally feeling at peace.

A/n: The next update is here! I honestly couldnt tell you why this took so long, i was having so much trouble writing it for some reason. But anyways, this chapter and the last were just supposed to be more relaxed, a bit of 'slice of life' if you will, just Y/n and the members hanging out together (before the drama comes). Crazy that theres only 11 chapter left. I hope everyone has a great day or night, or wherever you are reading from, Thank you all so much for reading! 💜💜💜

[doctorbunny]

A little speculation about Corpse Disposal and J-horror

But I'm a little bored so sharing a part-theory, part-headcanon on Muu and Rei

So we unfortunately don't see much of Rei in "Its not my fault" but I want to point out three key times we do

The first time we see Rei in the MV, is her wet sleeve (we know its not Muu because Muu wears a pink jumper under her blazer)

Then, after a lot of bug stuff, we're finally back in the real world, where Muu has just killed her Post-After Pain. In INMF, we don't see the surroundings as well, just the dirt track and bushes. But in AP, we see this is right next to a rushing river (Muu's undercover card also features a bridge as a landmark)

The next time we see Rei after her corpse, is a flashback to the start where she turns the hourglass over. Then it cuts just further back to before Rei stood up - as she pulls herself up off the floor She's alive and absolutely soaked after a session of intense bullying (which we saw Muu insert herself into in AP)

However, I want to now switch a little to talk about cinematography and a concept called the Kuleshov effect The video I linked is pretty concise but the gist is that if you put two shots next to each other, even if they were filmed separately, the brain interprets it as a continuous scene (so if you film a character looking off screen, then a picture of an apple on a table, we're going to assume they're looking at the apple)

Therefore while we understand chronologically that the sequence of events is Rei (wet and alive) -> Rei's murder on dry land ↺ Flashback to Rei still wet and alive Which I think everyone understood as a commentary on how this power struggle was a constant cycle of the hourglass being turned over

I think visually, it also implies a sequence like Rei was bullied -> Muu kills her -> Sopping wet, Rei crawls back to the classroom

But wait! That sequence suggests a missing step How did Rei get wet again?

Well, we know Muu killed her next to a river And if you were a scrawny teenage murderer with a body on your hands, would you leave it there where someone could see it while you grab a shovel and stand in broad daylight digging a hole in tough ground??? Or try lighting a fire in public??? Of course not!

It'd be much easier for Muu to, in a panic, just roll her body into the convenient river and let all the evidence wash away!

(Of course, if Muu was panicking, she might not have been very careful. Given she ended up in MILGRAM, there must've been something tying Muu to Rei's death and in T2 Muu seems to have finally remembered losing her left shoe...)

Fun fact: this is the same shoe Cinderella loses in the animated Disney film (and the best known version of that story came into English from France)

Shoe break over, back to the Endless Queen's Game

So, if we assume Rei's corpse was thrown in the river, what does it matter? Its just a pointless headcanon

But I speculate the meaning goes deeper!

So that image of Rei, soaking wet, crawling off the floor reminded me of something: J-horror ghost girls! Specifically the most famous of ghost girls Samara/Sadako Who became a vengeful spirit after being thrown in a well and now crawls out of TVs to kill people who watched her VHS tape

Her story too is a cyclical one (its called 'Ring' for a reason), the only way to break the curse is to copy the tape and have someone else watch it, who will then become the victim unless they can themselves copy the tape and show it to another unsuspecting patsy

The story goes back further because this movie is based on a novel, which is based on the legend of 番町皿屋敷 Banchou Sara Yashiki. There are many versions but generally a maid girl Okiku is proposed to, and when she rejects the proposal, her master breaks one of ten plates and promises to forgive her if she marries him. When she declines again, he beats her to near death then throws her into a well (sometimes it's a jealous mistress instead of a master)

Interestingly, Atrophaneura alcinous (swallowtail butterfly) larvae found in Japanese wells became known as Okikumushi お菊虫 (Okiku bugs), tying back to the whole insect thing...

It's been said a bunch now, but the name 'Rei' can be read as 霊 meaning ghost (seen in words like Yuurei 幽霊, a more common word for ghost than Rei on its own)

We know Muu is afraid of ghosts too (though I must admit she says Obake, not yuurei, but both words refer to ghosts)

Remembers the i/井 in Sakurai/櫻井 can be read as 'well' I'm sure that has nothing to do with anything

Uh, I can't think of a conclusion because its 1 am and I had to look up a bunch of spooky images

TL;DR: I think Muu may have quickly shoved Rei's body into the river next to where the murder happened (maybe forgot her shoe at the scene of the crime) and now she's scared by the cycle continuing and Rei coming back to haunt her

[accio-sriracha]

Essence of Sirius

Sirius tasted like cigarettes and red licorice. He smelled like hairspray and something a little floral. He looked carefree and wild. He sounded like loud laughter and secretive whispers. He felt like smooth skin and rough edges. He walked like he had something to prove.

When Sirius got into a fight he tasted like firewhiskey and a hint of blood. He smelled like leather and smoke. He looked like fierce glares and protective eyes. He sounded like loud arguments and daring words. He felt like bruised skin and bloodied knuckles. He walked like nothing would harm his friends as long as he was around.

When Sirius came back from quidditch practice he tasted like chewing gum and sweat. He smelled like dirt and wind. He looked like victorious smiles and ruffled hair. He sounded like excited cheers and playful banter. He felt like muddy jerseys and scratched skin. He walked like he was on top of the world.

When Sirius first woke up he tasted like toothpaste and pumpkin juice. He smelled like clean soap and coconut shampoo. He looked like sleepy smiles and dragging feet. He sounded like loud yawns and quiet murmurs. He felt like oversized jumpers and soft hair. He walked like he would give anything to sleep a little longer.

When Sirius was with his love he tasted like chocolate and cherry chapstick. He smelled like late night air and the cologne they bought him. He looked like puppy dog eyes and doting smiles. He sounded like kind whispers and constant affection. He felt like warm kisses and gentle touch. He walked like he would never feel this high again.

[the-californicationist]

he doesn’t disappoint

Wrote this fic as I was inspired by the challenge from @sky-is-the-limit that asked for Price getting fed up with hearing his hot neighbor have really terrible sex.

“I came to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

MDNI/18+

AO3 Version here

Four long stories above the people and the pigeons, she sat, legs on the railing of her amazingly small balcony, reading and writing. Always dressed in that huge jumper with the fraying collar, it swallowed her, covering her little spandex shorts that barely managed to keep her thick arse from slipping out of them, and she had her hair in the braid again. It was his favorite. He liked the ponytails, too, but the braid did something to him. When she plaited her hair and let that heavy rope hang limply over her shoulder, she became Repunzel, and he was Gallahad - or whatever muppet was meant to be at the bottom of her tower.

Captain Price knew that, the moment his fingers flipped the lock on his window, he’d disturb her peace. She’d startle, like a doe, and turn to smile at him. He lived for that turn. Every few nights, he’d catch her out here again, and he could make her turn to him. Make her smile at him. Make her laugh and talk with him, until she went to bed. But, that was the problem. Lately, her bed was filled with the one thing that made Price’s body fill with frustrated rage: The Boyfriend.

The Boyfriend was such a typical Yank, it made Price’s eyes roll back in his head. From the boat shoes to the bad fade haircut, the lad looked like an Abercrombie advert had escaped from one of those oversized shopping bags and landed in her apartment. He was small, first of all, despite the gym-made muscles. And he was as smooth as an otter, fully hairless. Price shuddered back to the memory of watching him try to put up the fire escape ladder shirtless, struggling to lift it with those tiny hands of his, making a disgusted face at the dirt on his palms afterward, wiping it on her blanket without her seeing him. Disgusting little gremlin.

She kept giving this wanker chance after chance to figure it out in the bedroom, and Price had heard just about enough of it, and his gut twisted in his belly knowing he’d have to hear it again tonight. He knew The Boyfriend was here because she was doing her work outside. The Boyfriend insisted on playing his Battle Zone videogames on full volume, bothering her, and complaining like a child if she asked him to put on his headphones. Price enjoyed imagining how quickly he’d expire on a real battlefield. That little prick could scream all the obscenities he wanted but he’d be dead in milliseconds against a man like Price.

His darling didn’t know about that, though. She knew he was in the military, but she didn’t know that he was the leader of the deadliest special forces team in the world. He imagined explaining it to her, pictured the fear flooding her face, confusion and shock hanging out of her open mouth. No. He couldn’t tell her about himself. Usually, when they talked together on the balcony, he would smoke long, densely-packed cigars and sip his whisky while she confessed the sins of her day to him. She told him about grad school, about her poetry, maybe showing him a sample or two. It was beautiful. When she was upset, she’d even tap on his window to see if he was home, sometimes tearful, asking for advice on how to handle something The Boyfriend had done. On really bad nights, she’d lean in and hug him, crying on his enormous shoulder, telling him what a good friend he was for listening to her. She smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, and her warmth made his cock swell with furious need.

As the night dragged on, The Boyfriend would eventually remember her and call her inside. He’d croon all sorts of things to her. His little whining “come on, baby” and pathetic “I just really need you to” quips were the opening lines to the worst song on Earth. He’d then spend the next five to ten minutes whimpering away on top of her, the headboard slamming into Price’s wall without rhythm. If the gorgeous woman suffering beneath him ever had the audacity to actually be enjoying his attempt, he’d shush her, shaming her for making noises, telling her “the neighbors don’t need to hear that shit.” Meanwhile, The Neighbor would be plotting his slow, painful death.

The banging started, and Price wanted to burst through the wall and stop this trainwreck from happening to her again. Eventually, a short time after it had begun, the banging stopped. Then, an even shorter time after that, the jingle of keys and the “I have an early day tomorrow” and “I have to go” were the outro to The Boyfriend’s opus.

Enough was enough. Before he even knew what he was doing, Price had his hand, raised in a fist, knocking on her apartment door. 23B. Shadow in the peephole. The click and clatter of a lock chain.

“Oh! John, it’s you. Is everything okay?” Her voice was low and smooth. Her cheeks were flushed. She was standing in her doorway, wearing those shorts, that jumper, still full of her need.

“No,” was all he could manage as he looked at her, his blue eyes blown, mad with desire.

“Oh, okay. Come in, I’ll make us some of that delicious tea you bought me. What are you doing here?”

Price followed her inside, silently relocking the portal, stalking her into the tiny kitchen, a mirror to his own. He came up behind her as she was looking in her cupboard for their mugs. When he put his hands on her hips, she froze, startled, eyeing him over her shoulder. His voice was just above a whisper, gravelly and accented, and he said,

“I came to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

She was on her tiptoes, reaching for the cups, but as she registered what he said, she slowly lowered herself back down to the tile of her floor, turning to face her neighbor with a look of shock on her face.

“What?”

Price played with the end of her braid, turning the end of it over in his hand, wrapping it up along his knuckles like a rope. He snaked the other hand up underneath her sweatshirt, fingers lingering on her warm belly, searching for the smooth swell of her breast. He told her, snarling,

“If I have to hear him continue to use you like a warm fucking towel, leaving you wanting, I will lose my bloody mind. Call him. Tell him he’s done.”

“You could hear us?” She flushed quickly at that, recalling all of the times she’d been punished for her noises.

“And I always hear you afterwards, after he leaves, making up for his…shortcomings. Bit sad, innit? Needing to take care of yourself when he should be the one looking after you. Time for someone new. Get your phone, love.”

It took her a moment to register what he was suggesting, but she was fed up, too. She smiled at his comment, and she reached for her phone on the countertop.

“Put it on speaker, sweetheart,” he commanded her. She obeyed.

One ring.

Two rings.

“Uh, what do you want?” The Boyfriend answered.

“Hey, Dick,” Price snarled, “We got some bad news, lad.”

“I’m breaking up with you, Richard,” she spoke into the phone very clearly, wrapping her free hand around Price’s huge bicep, not able to cover even half of its circumference, exploring him as he fondled her, one fist still holding her plait cruelly.

“What? Why? Who is that?”

“Why?” She scoffed, “Because every time I’ve come, for as long as we’ve been together, has been when you’re not here.”

“Are you serious? Fuck you, bitch. You’re just a -”

“Tha’s enough, Dick,” Price barked into the phone, “Look, no worries, mate. I’ll take it from here.”

Click. Price hung up her phone and turned it off, tossing it back across the counter. It made a loud, plasticky bang as it fell. He pressed his heavy erection against her body, crushing her hips with his, and moved his hand back under her jumper, plucking at her nipple like a soft petal, pinching it to make it stand at attention, watching her watch him.

“John, you… you never said anything,” she looked up into his eyes, begging him to tell her the truth he’d kept locked away for months.

“This isn’t even the half of it, girl,” he started to kiss her neck, sucking at her skin, his body writhing on top of hers, mimicking actions it would soon employ once he could get her out of her clothes, “I’ve wanted you for so. Fucking. Long.”

She moaned at the way he was kissing her throat with his bearded mouth, licking her with his long tongue. She cradled his furry cheek in her hand, enjoying the feel of its coarse hairs, whispering to him,

“When he leaves, you’re the one I picture. In my head.”

She might as well have lit a bomb. That was all he needed to hear.

He was strong enough to hoist her up onto the counter with one of his arms, wrapping it around her waist and setting her on the edge, her thighs spread wide to accommodate his huge body in between them. He tugged on her braid, using it to expose her smooth throat. She gasped, reaching out to steady herself.

The captain stood over her, looming like a dark beast, warning her in his quiet, steady voice,

“If I ever, and I mean ever, hear that little prick banging your headboard on my wall again, it’ll be his last day above ground. Am I crystal clear, love?”

“Yes,” she whispered back, a little uncertain how serious he was.

“Good girl.”

Price let go of her hair and scooped her off of the counter, carrying her with her legs locked behind him, through the small flat, and crashed to the bed where she’d just been disappointed. He vowed to her, silently, that he would do anything but disappoint.

Clothes started coming off in peeled layers; shirts, bras, pants, underwear - everything was shucked away like the rind of a melon, leaving only the soft, sticky inside, ripe and ready to be devoured. Price made his way down her body, biting and sucking whenever he wanted to do so, leaving a trail of teeth marks behind. Eventually, he could feel the heat of her pussy against his cheek, and it made him shudder.

He had pulled her phone into his pocket, and now he wanted to twist the knife. He called The Boyfriend and sent his own number straight to voicemail, preparing to leave a delicious message.

As he began to eat her juices, sucking them off her folds like the drippings from a popsicle, he started to hear little mewlings, soft and sweet, but very reserved. He glanced up at the rest of his meal, wondering why she was holding back. Then, he remembered The Boyfriend’s number one rule.

“Look at me,” Price ordered from beneath her thighs.

She hesitated, trying to hide her shame, putting her face in her hands, breathing heavy and ragged.

He reached both hands up to grab her ribs, coming up and out from his position to let her get a better look at him.

“Look at me, love.” It was a softer, lower tone, and she came out of hiding to obey him. He continued to command her, gently, “I want to hear your pleasure, sweetness. The louder you get, the harder I get. I hope the whole bloody city hears you tonight.”

“Are you sure? You like it?” Fuck if he wasn’t about to hunt that man down and execute him, authority or not.

“God, yes, love. Let me make you scream.”

This voicemail was going to be incredible.

He returned to his duty post between her legs, excited to start his work anew. This time, as his tongue worked her open, fucking liquidly in and out of her pink hole, swirling up around her clit, and exploring every hidden gem between them, he listened to her keening. It was soft at first, but then, when he began to stretch her, pushing down with his two, rough fingers, thrusting them slowly in and out, she started to come. Her cries were incredible. She was screaming for him to fuck her, to take her, to do anything to her, and he loved it.

Crawling back over her, Price used his heavy cockhead to paint drooling precome all over her slick slit, soaking himself so he could more easily fit himself into her core. He didn’t want to hurt her, and other lovers had trained him to know that his was big enough to be a weapon.

“That’s my good girl. Do you feel good, you sweet little thing? You’re a fucking dream. Tell me that you’re ready for this cock in you. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me, love.”

She was shaking from her orgasm, looking at him, bewildered, and she rushed the words out of her mouth like fire,

“I need it, please. John, I need you to fuck me. Fuck me, please, John. Put your cock in me,” and, like magic, Price obliged. Just as good at taking orders as he was at giving them.

Feeding his length inside of her wasn’t the issue, it was the fact that she was coming while he tried to do it. Price had a hand steadily working her clit, wetly pressing it where she needed it, and she was clenching against him so tightly, like a wet, molten fist, that it nearly pushed him out of her. He grabbed her body, looping his enormous arm behind her back, and shoved her down, locking her against his hips, deliciously impaled.

Her face was twisted into the most beautiful kind of agony, and as she came down from her high, he began to move in her. After she bloomed around his cock, opening like a flower, he was able to fuck into her even deeper, groaning with each of his thrusts. She gasped,

“Oh, God. John, you’re so good. You’re not done yet?”

He laughed, out loud and brazenly, holding her tighter,

“Oh, lovely girl, no. No,” he smiled down at his pretty little neighbor, “Those days are gone. I’m going to be inside of you all fucking night.”

[messrsrarchives]

thinking about boxer remus. thinking about boxer remus and trainer sirius. thinking about remus who was told he needed to take up some kind of hobby and trying everythingggg until james convinces him to join the boxing class he goes to. "the instructor is really nice!" james constantly says but remus doesn't believe him because he's had far too many instructors that treat him like dirt when he wears shorts or takes off his jumper

thinking a lot about remus being very demure and all 🫤 about boxing. he doesn't really enjoy it, doesn't think it's for him but yk what? the instructor IS nice and yk what else? he looks quite nice too, so remus keeps going.

thinking about remus being so demure until he's had a bad doctors appointment or a bad grade or something and he comes into class completely different and sirius is there like Oh. Oh.

thinking, potentially too much, about sirius correcting remus' arms whilst standing a bit too close or choosing remus for his demonstrations to the class just to touch him, being the first instructor that doesn't comment on remus' scars in shorts, and sirius essentially just drooling over this lanky, sweater-wearing man that does it so naturally

[arliedraws]

Drabble - Sirius escapes Azkaban at the start of SS/PS and swims to the shack where Harry and the Dursleys are staying.

Just a small exercise I used as a writing warm-up :)

—

Harry had never received a letter in his life.

This was, to Uncle Vernon, the natural order of things. The post came each day, except on Sundays, of course, and over the years, they received plenty of bills, birthday cards for Dudley, and letters from Aunt Marge, but never a single envelope addressed to Harry.

To say that Uncle Vernon was upset that one finally did come to Harry at number four might have been putting it rather mildly, for in his compounding fury, Uncle Vernon had gone to extremes to find a place to which letters were undeliverable. The fury that Harry Potter had received one letter drove Uncle Vernon to hasten them out of Little Whinging and into the car where they spent several days hunting for a hiding place that would restore the natural order of the universe.

Perhaps they had finally found it. The shack was perched atop a small island just off the coast. The Dursleys and Harry had come by boat, braving the freezing waves to land upon the rocks. As Aunt Petunia urged Dudley into the dilapidated shack, Harry halted at the edge of the island, staring off into the distance where mist shrouded the horizon line.

“What’s the hold-up?” barked Uncle Vernon. “What are you looking at?”

“I think there’s another island out there,” said Harry.

Uncle Vernon shot him a nasty look. “There’s nothing out there.”

Harry shrugged as Uncle Vernon followed Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the shack. He could have sworn he saw an outline of something huge, like a tower, in the distance, but the fog was too thick now, and whatever it was had been swallowed up.

Eventually, the chill of the sea battered at his jumper until he was shivering, and Harry felt slightly damp as he resigned himself to joining the others in the shack. By the time he closed the door behind him, Aunt Petunia was already serving their rations which consisted of a packet of crisps and a banana for each of them.

The only boon of the filthy little house was that it seemed to thoroughly depress Dudley who slumped on the sofa and ate his crisps miserably, staring at the spot where he must have been pretending sat a television. Uncle Vernon was quite cheerful, however, pleased that he had brought his family to a place so far removed from society that the postman would never find Harry.

When night fell, Aunt Petunia made up the sofa for Dudley. Harry claimed a threadbare blanket before she could give them all to Dudley, and he found a spot on the floor where he thought the dirt was the softest. Awkwardly, Harry rested his head in the crook of his elbow, trying not to breathe in too deeply the blanket’s stench of seaweed.

The storm outside the shack rattled the wooden walls, and sea spray splattered the windows. This did not concern Uncle Vernon who bid Dudley and Harry goodnight with a slightly deranged smile before disappearing into the second room with Aunt Petunia. Harry, however, couldn’t help imagining a huge wave sweeping the house right into the sea and drowning them all.

Harry tried to settle into his nest on the floor, but he was too cold, the ground was too hard, and Dudley was snoring loudly enough to rival the crashing sea beyond the walls. Harry’s birthday was only a few hours away which might have been something to look forward to, but it seemed too sad to consider that he’d be turning eleven in a place like this. Well, he reasoned, was it any worse than his cupboard?

Harry turned over as lightning flashed through the windows. Dangerous thoughts were occurring to him. Life had never been particularly fair to Harry, which was something he’d come to accept, yet when he really stopped to think about it, Harry wished for a completely different one. Apparently he’d had a different one before because his parents died when he was a baby and left him to his mother’s sister. Uncle Vernon insisted that Harry’s parents were drunkards who died in a car crash, and while this wasn’t particularly pleasing to think about, Harry rather thought he’d prefer loving layabouts to the cold and hostile Dursleys.

Dudley’s stomach growled, startling Harry. Uncle Vernon had forced them all to suffer the depressing meal of crisps and bananas, and it was most certainly not enough for Harry; for Dudley, it must have been merely crumbs. It must not agreed with Dudley either because a foul stench filled the room, and Harry balked, rolling away and stuffing the blanket against his nose. The blanket, however, wasn’t any better. Unable to take it, Harry got up towards the window.

He was expecting to see waves breaking against the rocks, rising with the increasingly swelling storm. He expected to see the rain as it slapped the pane of glass, and perhaps even a jagged bolt of lightning splitting across the black sky. But as Harry looked out the window, he locked gazes with a pair of wide eyes.

At first, Harry thought he was dreaming. A ghastly, emaciated face was looking at him. The thing was horrible—it was a ghost with pale, sunken eyes, gaunt cheeks, and black, lank hair. Harry’s cry was stuck in his throat as the thing stared back. It seemed almost as surprised as Harry.

Then it was gone.

Heart pumping painfully against his ribs, Harry stumbled back from the window.

I’m dreaming, he thought. That wasn’t real. I didn’t see anything.

Harry whipped his gaze to the door. It didn’t have a lock—at least, the one that was on it was broken. He rushed towards it, suddenly terrified. If that thing came in, what would it do? Just because the Dursleys refused to believe that there were supernatural forces in the world didn’t mean they weren’t real and that they couldn’t eat them all.

For several minutes as thunder rumbled and the wind whipping the house, Harry pressed his back against the door. He was hours away from being eleven and he was skinny—a quick meal for a monster. He couldn’t let it get him.

Then, as Harry sat there, he began to feel stupid.

There were no such things as ghosts or specters or vampires. In his exhaustion and hunger, he must’ve invented the vision and convinced himself it was real; when he really thought about it, he was certain he knew he had imagined it.

Eventually, Harry slinked back to his spot on the floor and pulled the ragged blanket over his jeans and jumper, curling into the dirt. If he closed his eyes and squeezed them tightly, sleep would come for him and erase the nightmarish specter from his memory. It would be his birthday, and he would spend it in the middle of the sea.

He thought so, at least.

The door creaked. The crashing of the waves grew louder.

Harry’s eyes snapped open, though he stayed very still, his gaze locked on the empty fireplace. He heard the door close. His heart was pounding so hard now that he could hear it, and he tried to keep the harsh huffing of his breath quiet.

He heard nothing—nothing but the sound of the sea, the howling wind, Dudley’s stomach…

Then, a hand touched his shoulder.

Harry tried to shout; hand clapped over his mouth. A rasping voice was hushing him. Harry tried to shove the creature off of him, screaming into the wet palm. Panic overtook him. He scrabbled for a thin wrist and kicked in his silent, grunting struggle.

“Harry, Harry, please—stop—I’m—I won’t hurt you—” the hoarse voice was whispering. “Shh, please—”

Harry looked up at the creature in terror. Wet, matted hair hung over the specter’s brow, darkening his already shadowed eyes. They stared at each other. It wasn’t a ghost at all, but a man.

“What are you doing here?” whispered the intruder. His gaze flickered to Dudley who was still snoring.

The hand eased from Harry’s mouth. Maybe it would’ve been wisest to scream for help—to bring Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia scrambling into the room, but Harry couldn’t think. This thing—this man knew his name. The man was soaking wet and wearing strange clothing that hung in rags from his skeletal body. His hand stayed clenched on Harry’s shoulder.

“Who—who are you?” breathed Harry.

“Sirius,” he murmured. Harry frowned, not understanding. “That’s my name…” Again, the intruder looked back at Dudley to ensure he was still asleep.

Harry leaned away. The man smelled like seawater, perhaps even more so than the ragged blanket, and he was trembling from the chill. If Harry had not been so terrified, he might have offered the man the blanket, but as it was, he was convinced the intruder was going to do something terrible to him.

“Are you going to kill me?” said Harry so quietly, he was surprised the intruder heard him.

Sirius, so he called himself, shook his head. “No…but I…I shouldn’t have come in… It was only…I can’t…I can’t believe you’re here…” He stopped to cough which he smothered with the crook of his elbow, the veins protruding in his forehead as he tried to keep himself quiet. His eyes were red as they turned to the dilapidated shack, taking in the dirt floor and moldy sofa and the cracked window before they returned to Harry. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, his voice so hoarse, it was hardly more than a hiss of breath. “Are you…safe?”

“I’m fine,” lied Harry.

The intruder frowned. “Are you?”

“You—you should probably go, Mr.—er—Mr. Sirius—”

“Where are your aunt and uncle?”

“They’re just in there—” then Harry lowered the finger he was pointing as he realized what the intruder was asking. Another wave of horror paralyzed him. How did this Sirius person know about Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia?

“Shhh, it’s all right…” said Sirius who must have seen the panic on his face. His hand hovered as though readying it to slap it over Harry’s mouth again. “I’ll leave… I shouldn’t have… I only wanted to…” He swallowed. A bead of water dribbled down his nose as he tilted his face at the ragged blanket. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”

It was the last question Harry expected.

“Er—I—there wasn’t anywhere else to—”

BOOM.

Harry jerked; Sirius’s hand gripped his shoulder painfully. They both stared at the door in bewilderment.

Fear shone in Sirius’s eyes as he turned to Harry, urgently whispering, “Harry, what I’m about to do—don’t tell anyone. Please—I beg you to keep my secret—”

Another boom! shook the shack.

“Secret?” said Harry.

Dudley was stirring behind them. “Where’s the cannon?” he said.

Sirius said nothing more—he couldn’t say more—because when Harry blinked, in his place was no longer a man but an enormous, jet black dog. The dog faced the door, hackles raised, growling softly as the pounding continued. Harry gaped, sputtering at the dog—

“Who’s there?” a voice roared.

Uncle Vernon had rushed into the room clutching a rifle, aiming it at the door. Aunt cowered behind him as he warned the intruder to stay away or he’d shoot, but either the newcomer did not hear or they did not care, because in the next moment, the door flew from its hinges, crashing to the floor as a gigantic man, the largest Harry had ever seen in his life, ducked through the doorway.

The dog shrank away—the dog that was really a man—slinking behind Harry. If he meant to hide, he was far too large to disappear behind Harry…

Uncle Vernon yelled. The giant, however, was unperturbed as he bent and put the door to rights, fitting it back into the frame. He turned to face them, his wild black beard and hair sopping wet and beady black eyes sweeping over the shack.

“Rough seas. Not easy getting’ here in a storm like this. Could yeh make some tea?”

[mp0625]

Pass the Cranberries

Oscar Piastri x reader

Taglist. Masterlist.

A/N: To everyone that voted Oscar you were correct! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate!!

“So I’m meeting your parents today?” Oscar asked, looking at you from the passenger seat.

“Yes, and my brother and sister, my grandparents on both sides, my aunt and uncle from my mom’s side and my great aunt and uncle will be there Thursday.” You list keeping your eyes on the road watching for deer as you wind down the country road.

“How much farther?” He questions after you hit another pothole.

“We are here!” You said as you pull off the larger dirt road onto a smaller one lane dirt road.

“So this is where you grew up?” He looked over at you questionly.

“Yup, born and raised.”

“When was the last time you were here?”

“Weekend before Vegas, while you were at the factory Zac let me go home early, I was able to do most of the work from home.” You said as you go farther up the driveway, as you pass a barn you mention. “That barn is one my great grandpa built, that we used to house cows. But now my mom wants to fix it up and create an air BnB.” As you pull up to the house you put the car in park, and you pop the trunk. As you are getting your suitcases out of the car you hear the front door open.

“Y/N” “Come hear I missed you!” Your mom is now standing on the front porch.

“You saw me two weeks ago.” You said as you walked over to give her a hug.

“Oh, me and your dad saw you on TV, they showed the analysts on the McLaren pit wall and we recognized you.” Your mom said holding you at arm's length. “Come inside, it’s chilly out here. Can I get y’all a drink?” She said opening the front door. As Oscar comes up the stairs behind you carrying your bag.

“Thank you.” Giving him a kiss on the cheek, you grab your bag from him and head inside.

The next morning, as you are drinking your coffee on the front porch. You hear mom call, “Y/N, can you run up to the gas station and grab a couple bags of ice? Please.”

“Yes ma’am.” You said standing up finishing your last sip of coffee. “Oscar, do you want to go with me? It’s about a 20 minute ride there and back.”

“Sure, let me grab my jumper.” He said heading into the house.

Once y’all were on y’all way back Oscar broke the comfortable silence by saying. “I didn’t realize you grew up this far out of town.”

“Yeah it was a little hard to do sports and stuff, but I loved it and wouldn’t have it any other way.” You said with a smile.

Once you pull in and get the ice unloaded. Your mom asks Oscar. “Can you help me with the mashed potatoes by peeling the potatoes? Please.”

“Sure.” He says coming into the kitchen. After a few minutes he asks. “Hey Y/N, am I doing this right?” Showing you a half peeled potatoe.

“Yeah, it looks perfect.” You said.

Thursday morning Oscar woke up to absolute chaos, you and your mom running around putting pots on the stove and turning crock pots on and firing up the smoker, even though y’all did most of the cooking yesterday. As you were putting the green beans on you heard someone pulling up the gravel driveway. You hear your dad shout from the front porch, “They’re here.” After everyone comes in and says hi and gets hugs, y’all settle on the couch and catch up while your aunt puts her food in the oven to keep warm.

In the middle of dinner You and Oscar were talking about one of the races from earlier this year, to your aunt. You hear your sister start up. “They Shouldn’t have done that, that's what caused him to crash!”

“You're just saying that because he’s your favorite.” Your brother shouted back.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

As they continue to get louder you start to call their names but they aren't listening so you have to resort to. “Will you please pass the cranberries?” “Will you please pass the cranberries?” “Please pass the cranberries!” You said hitting your hands on the table after every word.

Taglist: @studioreader @honethatty12 @slafgoalskybaby @swissboyhisch @topguncultleader @wondershells @cixrosie

[chickenkurage]

You’re not you when you’re hungry. Grab a snickers. (Farmer AU)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Where in, DJ’s code is really old, so he gets confused sometimes. In short he loses control and becomes a bit aggressive, luckily Alan and his apple kids is there to fix him up (just some bitch slapping and cuddling, you decide who did what)

Tag: Comedy, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Violence and Fluff.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Red! No!" DJ exclaimed as he knelt beside the red apple, swiftly scooping him up in his arms and shooing away a crow poised to take a bite. "Meep! Meep!" Red cried, squirming in his embrace and nestling against his neck, his tiny form trembling.

"Aww, Red, it's okay. Relax, I've got you," DJ murmured soothingly, giving Red a gentle pat on the head. "Meep," Red chirped again, wriggling toward DJ's neckerchief and seeking refuge beneath it, eliciting giggles from DJ. "Red, that tickles," DJ chuckled, slipping his hand into his neckerchief and retrieving the red apple.

"Meep meep!" Red exclaimed joyfully, bobbing his head happily.

"Hah! You're adorable," DJ remarked as he cradled Red, heading back towards the farmhouse. He caught sight of Cho and Dark lounging in a rocking chair on the front porch, peacefully dozing under the warm sun. 

"Look at them snuggled up," DJ whispered, glancing down at Red, who observed the two pineapples cuddling.

"Wait, I have to take a photo," DJ exclaimed, swiftly reaching into the pocket of his jumper and retrieving his phone. He opened the camera app and snapped multiple pictures of the dozing pineapples. 

"Look at them," DJ remarked, showing the screen to Red, who gleefully waved his arms up and down in agreement.

"DJ? Are you done with work already?" Alan inquired, approaching with dirt-covered legs and arms, holding Sec in his arms, who looks equally dirt-covered as Alan. "Not yet, but Red here had a close call with a crow, so I think he should stay indoors for now," DJ explained, his expression furrowed in concern.

"Oh, that's not good. I should probably bring Cho and Dark inside too," Alan suggested, nibbling on his lip as he glanced at the two pineapples peacefully napping in the rocking chair. "Perhaps we do need a scarecrow," DJ mused, heading towards the front door. He kicked off his dirty boots before stepping inside.

Alan grunted and followed DJ inside, carrying Cho, Dark, and Sec in his arms, he mused, "Maybe." Placing the three pineapples on the couch, he then made his way to his room. "Anyways, I need a bath; I'm covered in dirt," Alan remarked, waving to DJ with a peace sign before ascending the stairs.

"'Kay," DJ replied, letting Red bounce off his arm towards Sec, who joyfully embraced him. "Oh, my heart," DJ chuckled, watching as Sec pulled Red towards Dark and Cho, who appeared to be engaged in a silent exchange.

"Maybe that's their way of communicating?" DJ pondered, tilting his head.

"Hmm, where are the others? Yellow? Blue? Green? Vic?" DJ called out as he strolled towards the kitchen, wearing a puzzled expression.

"There you are! What are you all up to here?" DJ inquired with a laugh, bending over to peer under the table. He spotted Green and Yellow laying over Blue, while Vic stood towering above them all.

The fruits turned to gaze at DJ, who felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead.

"Alright then... I'll let you guys do your thing," DJ said with a grin, rising to his feet and sauntering towards the fridge to retrieve some cold water.

Humming a tune, he fetched a glass, poured the water, and downed it in one go, releasing a contented sigh. He fanned himself lightly before rinsing the glass and leaving it on a drying rack.

"Chip! Chip," Vic chirped, waddling over and tapping DJ's leg with his stubby arms. "What's going on?" DJ inquired, tilting his head as he knelt down to meet Vic's gaze.

Vic simply stared up at DJ before attempting to climb his knees, struggling to hoist himself up by grabbing onto DJ's jumper.

Amused, DJ chuckled and lifted Vic, cradling him in his arms as the gray pineapple clung excitedly to the front of his jumper. "Alright, alright," DJ laughed, bouncing Vic gently as he rose and ambled towards the living room.

Suddenly, a pounding headache gripped DJ, causing him to pause and groan, his hand instinctively reaching for his throbbing head. "Chip?" Vic tilted his head, gazing up at DJ with a perplexed expression.

"H-huh? I'm fine, just a bit of a headache. Probably the heat. Here, sit with Sec and Red," DJ explained as he gently settled Vic on the couch next to the other fruits.

"Chip?" Sec cocked his head, glancing between Vic and DJ, who seemed to be struggling.

"Ugh, perhaps the heat is getting to me," DJ groaned, massaging his temples and removing his glasses to rub his eyes. As he did so, his vision momentarily clouded, a fleeting moment where everything appeared red and distorted. Startled, he shook his head in confusion, rubbing his eyes and focusing on the puzzled gazes of Vic and Sec, who were watching him intently.

DJ staggered towards the stairs, his head still pounding as he weakly called out, "A-Alan?" His hand clung to the wall for support, his vision swirling, prompting another groan of discomfort.

Amidst a cacophony of chirps and meeps, everything around him began to tint red, an overwhelming sensation washing over him, sending his senses into a frenzy.

“Chip?” Cho chirped, gazing up at DJ with concern, hopping off the couch to get a better look at him.

“Chip?!” Cho exclaimed, stepping back in surprise as DJ let out a low growl. "W-what are you? What kind of code are you? Must... clean…" DJ muttered dazedly, his fists clenching tightly.

Sensing the danger, Dark hopped off the couch and swiftly grabbed Cho's arm, yanking him out of harm's way just in time to avoid a powerful stomp that shattered the wooden floorboards.

“Meep!!” Red cried out in panic, flailing his arms as Sec swiftly grabbed him, pulling him to safety.

“G-get back here!” DJ growled, his demeanor unsettling, causing Cho and Dark to emit loud, anxious chirps as they gazed up at him, noticing a strange red hue in his eyes. 

Before they could react, a sudden purple blur intervened, pushing DJ away and causing the dark orange figure to land heavily on his back with a pained grunt.

“DJ! What the hell are you doing?” Alan's voice cut through the tension, water droplets still dripping from his head as he stared at DJ with disbelief. “Chip! Chip!” Dark and Cho scuttled behind Alan's legs, seeking refuge in fear.

“What's going on with you?” Alan demanded, furrowing his brow as DJ struggled to regain his composure, his gaze unfocused. 

Alan's expression shifted, a sense of recognition dawning on him. “Not again. Cho, Dark, go hide somewhere safe. Take the others with you,” Alan instructed, casting a concerned look towards the two pineapples.

Cho nodded in understanding and quickly took Dark's arm, leading him away to find a safe hiding spot.

“Clean... Clean orders,” DJ murmured, his hand pressed against his head, a mix of confusion and pain evident on his face.

“DJ... it's me, Alan. Do you remember?” Alan spoke softly, cautiously approaching the troubled dark orange figure.

“Hnn Alan? Who? Where... orders, I have orders, have to follow,” DJ muttered, his demeanor conflicted as he suddenly lunged towards Alan, a look of determination in his eyes.

“DJ!” Alan exclaimed, moving swiftly to intercept DJ's punch, grabbing his arm just in time.

Growling, DJ raised his other hand, attempting another strike that Alan effortlessly blocked.

“DJ! Snap out of it! It's that damned code, isn't it?” Alan's voice was firm as he pushed back against DJ's relentless assault, his feet sliding on the floor. “Wake up, DJ. I don't want to fight you. We've moved past that,” Alan growled, his fist clenched in frustration.

DJ remained unresponsive, his gaze unfocused and distant, caught in the grip of some unseen force.

“You need to stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself at this po-” Alan's warning was cut short as DJ swiftly closed the distance between them, seizing the front of Alan's shirt and hurling him upwards with such force that the roof shattered, sending Alan crashing back down, in front of the house with a resounding thud.

“Ow! Creators above!” Alan groaned, wincing as he sat up, his hand supporting his aching back.

A hand clenched Alan's shirt once more, compelling him to meet the emotionless gaze of DJ. What caught Alan's attention most were DJ's eyes—devoid of emotion, his pupils flickering and shifting through a spectrum of colors. 

“Damn the code,” Alan muttered under his breath before swiftly taking action, grabbing DJ's wrist and deftly flipping him over, pinning him down with a knee pressed firmly against his back.

“DJ, please, come on, wake the hell up,” Alan urged, applying pressure as DJ clawed at the soil, growling in defiance. “DJ! Snap out of it! Wake the hell up, you idiot!” Alan's voice filled with desperation, he turned DJ onto his back and delivered a sharp slap, knocking DJ's glasses askew.

“Achk! Alan?!” DJ cried out, his hand flying to his stinging cheek.

“DJ? Oh, thank the creators, you’re back,” Alan breathed a sigh of relief, easing off DJ's chest. “What happened? My head is killing me, and my back too,” DJ whimpered, a tear escaping his eye as he sat up, pressing a hand to his throbbing head.

“Your code is acting up again. I really think you should let me fix that,” Alan suggested with a furrowed brow, bending down to retrieve DJ's glasses from the floor and handing them back to him.

“Oh no! Did... Did I hurt the kids?” DJ's voice quivered with panic, his hand trembling as he covered his face, curling into a protective ball.

“What? No, you didn't. I intervened before anything serious happened. Thank goodness when these glitches occur, you never seem to retain your fighting skills, or else the house would've been in shambles,” Alan remarked with a light-hearted tone, kneeling beside DJ.

DJ, overwhelmed with emotions, buried his head under his arms, his remorse palpable in the air.

“I feel like a terrible friend and a terrible dad. I'm sorry, Alan. Did I hurt you?” DJ's voice quivered as he sniffled, seeking reassurance.

“You didn’t even manage to scratch me,” Alan reassured with a smirk, patting DJ's shoulder gently.

“Still... they’re going to be scared of me... this hasn't happened in a while. Usually, I only get migraines at best,” DJ pouted, his guilt weighing heavily on him. Alan then took DJ by the shoulders and pulled him into a comforting hug.

“It's alright. We'll explain it to them. I'm sure they'll understand... and about the roof... you have to fix that,” Alan reminded, prompting a chuckle from DJ as he leaned back, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“What happened? Did I throw you through the roof or something?” DJ asked in disbelief, his memory still hazy from the glitch.

“You did. Now, it's your turn to fix it as payback for tossing me out of my own house,” Alan teased with a grin.

“Now get up and let’s head back inside. I need another bath,” Alan said, eyeing his dirtied shirt from the fall.

With a groan and aching head, DJ struggled to his feet. Alan reached down, offering a helping hand. “Thanks, Alan. If it weren't for you... I might have really hurt them,” DJ admitted, a frown etched on his face as they slowly made their way back into the house, wincing at the sight of the broken roof.

“Meep! Meep!” Red chirped excitedly, bouncing over DJ's feet.

“Oh Red... uhm... I'm sorry,” DJ murmured, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Meep!” Red exclaimed, taken aback by the sudden display of emotion from the normally composed dark orange figure.

“Ah, don't worry, Red. He gets like that when he's feeling really under the weather. Come on, let's get him to his room,” Alan reassured, offering a small smile as he supported DJ, whose legs wobbled slightly. Red followed closely, bouncing along, while Sec trailed behind, looking visibly concerned.

“Hey, Sec,” Alan greeted as he carefully guided DJ to his bed, helping him lie down.

“Nnn,” DJ groaned, his hand pressed against his throbbing head as he turned away, seeking some relief. “Chip?” Sec tilted his head, gazing up at Alan with a worried expression, then pointing towards DJ with a mix of concern and curiosity.

Alan sighed, “He has these moments sometimes where... his code, you're aware of that, right?” Both Red and Sec nodded in understanding. 

“His code is really old, and sometimes it gets confused. Usually, he gets sick or gets migraines from resisting it, but this time it seems like he didn't even get the chance to resist before it completely took over him,” Alan explained, his expression clouded with concern.

“Meep? Meep! Meep!” Red waved his arm up and down in frustration before hopping off the bed's edge, attempting to pull himself up by grabbing the sheets.

Sec hurriedly rushed behind Red, giving him a gentle push to help him climb onto the bed. Red bounced over to DJ, who was still groaning in pain, his face contorted with discomfort. “Meep...” Red chirped softly, placing a comforting hand on DJ's arm, prompting the dark orange to slowly open his tired eyes and gaze at him wearily.

“Hey, Red... I'm sorry you had to witness that,” DJ mumbled, his eyes drooping with fatigue.

Red let out a sad whimper and nestled against DJ's arm. “How about you rest? I'll gather your other kids to watch over you while I whip up something for you,” Alan suggested, picking up Sec from the floor and turning towards DJ.

“Mm, okay,” DJ agreed, curling his arm around Red and closing his eyes, seeking some much-needed rest.

[♡]

“Meep?” Blue tilted his head curiously while Yellow peered over DJ, who was resting peacefully, his breathing slow and steady. “Meep Meep,” Green exclaimed, waving his hands in excitement before breaking into a cheerful tune.

Red perked up, joining in with his own melody. Soon, the room was filled with a soft, harmonious tune, gently rousing DJ from his slumber. He chuckled as he noticed the four apples perched on his pillow, their gazes fixed on him intently.

“You guys are so cute,” DJ remarked, reaching out to tickle Yellow, who let out a small shriek before darting off to the side of the bed with an indignant meep. “Hah,” DJ laughed softly, slowly sitting up. Green and Blue bounded over, settling in his lap and bouncing around with excitement.

“Whoa, what's gotten you guys so thrilled?” DJ inquired with a grin, rubbing the back of his neck. Beside him, Red let out a happy meep before wrapping his stubby arms around DJ's side, eliciting a light giggle. “Aww, you guys,” DJ cooed, as Yellow bounced back towards him, joining Green and Blue in his lap where they now snuggled up together.

“Oh, damn it, where’s my phone?” DJ exclaimed, a hint of panic in his voice, as he watched Red join the small dog pile on his lap. He patted his pockets frantically, letting out a sad whine when he couldn't locate his phone.

“Looking for this?” Alan's voice came from the doorway as he waved DJ’s phone in the air. “Yes!” DJ exclaimed in relief, only to flinch when he felt the apples shift in his lap, before they settled back, already drifting off to sleep. “Here you go,” Alan said, walking over to DJ and handing him his phone.

“Yes, yes!” DJ cheered softly, snapping a few photos of the cozy dog pile before letting out a contented sigh. “I'm actually here to take you out to eat with me, but it seems like you're quite busy with your 'kids,' huh?” Alan remarked with a playful tilt of his head.

“Yeah, I don't want to move just yet,” DJ replied with a grin, glancing back down as he felt Blue shifting around under the pile. “Alright, but before 6 PM rolls around, I'm dragging you out for a meal, okay?” Alan declared.

DJ gave him a thumbs up, still beaming. “Gotcha,”. 

"Good,” Alan said with a small smile, placing a reassuring hand on DJ’s shoulder.

“Uhm, about the roof... I will really fix that!” DJ said with a furrowed brow, rubbing the back of his head. “I-I know we agreed no more fighting between us, so I’m really sorry about earlier. I just—” DJ started, only to be interrupted by Alan's embrace, the latter patting his back gently.

“Relax, man. Why are you so worked up? It's no biggie,” Alan reassured, as DJ pouted and returned the hug tightly. “If you say so, man,” DJ replied, easing back as Alan did the same. “Yeah, totally. I know that wasn't really you,” Alan added, letting out a chuckle.

“What?” DJ tilted his head, puzzled by Alan's laughter.

“You're not you when you're hungry. Grab a Snickers,” Alan quipped again, before covering his mouth to stifle his laughter, while DJ let out a sigh. “Good one, Alan,” DJ mumbled, a faint smile playing on his lips.

[gayeilgeoir]

Right I’m being gay for butches again, surprise surprise, but oh my fucking gods I need a butch girlfriend right the fuck now it’s not even funny I’m actually gonna freak out if I don’t.

The way they look in jumpers, just big enough to make them look so fucking cosy but not big enough it hides them. The way they look in flannels, with the sleeves rolled up and covered in paint or dirt or grease from whatever they’re working on.

Their hands, always messy and covered in rings. Their hair, buzz cut or damn floor length I don’t even care. Their smiles, the way they laugh and smirk, how their mouth crinkles when they smile. The thought of them smirking when they kiss you.

I just want a butch who fights with me over who makes dinner each night because we wanna care for each other. I want a butch who makes stupid shit for me, and lets me make stupid shit for her. I want a butch who cares for me as much as I care for them. I want a butch who understands my masculinity, and knows I understand hers.

I WANT A BUTCHHHHHHH

[calummss]

Perimeters | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

summary: you were only supposed to get thomas shelby’s signature but got his signature one night stand instead

pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby

words: 3.8k

a/n: confident reader!! also i’m sorry but i had to reuse some smut bc i’m simply unable to write good smut atm. please don’t take great offense :/

Small Heath was far from a perfect little town; no greens, no blues, no singing birds, no smiles. Grey skies, dying wilds, only lips pressing together, everyday the same, every day becoming more clouded by the smoke of fire. Industrialised goods being made that half of the town couldn’t even afford.

Your newly bought shoes you only bought a couple of days ago didn’t last long. Dirt and shit on the streets claiming their place on them as soon as you stepped onto the ground. Unfamiliar streets that weren’t used to a member of the Young family to step onto. Claimed territory of the Shelbys. Shelbys were starting to cover every corner of Birmingham like rats. Infesting the city sewers, canals, streets, buildings. Shelbys were starting to take over and your father couldn’t have that.

You were supposed to meet up with Thomas Shelby, go over the drawn up contract and sign the agreement to not take eithers perimeters. Given the shithole you were standing in you doubted if you ever wanted control of a place that looked like it did what it’d please. You only met Thomas briefly a few years back. Back when you still lived with your mother just outside Small Heath. The infamous Peaky Blinders had always piqued your interest. You often caught glances at him, his dark raven hair, blue eyes like the first water, lips so plush. The wave of smoke that lingered long after he’d gone, pervasively invading your head. You were interested in the past. Even now if you were being completely honest.

‘Miss Young.’

You turned around to meet a young boy, a mere ten or nine, the peak of his cap falling below his eyebrow line, propping it up every few seconds. Dark streaks across the bridge of his nose, similar stains smeared on his jumper and shorts.

‘I will take you to Mr. Shelby.’

‘How kind of you.’ You smiled at him, following him as the boy started to walk the direction you had just come from. ‘Lead the way.’

The boy didn’t say anything. He stayed silent for most of the walk, only the crunching of dirt and gravel accompanying your thoughts. You definitely hadn’t missed the stench of Small Heath. The look of it either. You detested the past entangled between the bricks. That was what made it so abhorrent.

Not long after and you both came to a holt, right in front of the Garrison’s doors.

‘He’s inside.’ The boy said, turning away, ready to leave.

‘Thank you and hold on just a moment.’ You replied, rummaging your coat’s pockets.

Pulling out a chocolate treat, you gave it to him.

‘Thank you.’

‘Go home now. Go somewhere safe.’

With that he left.

Opening the door, the familiar squeaking of the floors echoed through the room, a hidden figure behind the glass fixing himself a drink. Your hand reached for the second door, a small jingle of the bell disrupting the silence of flowing liquids and shifting upon the old wooden floorboards.

‘Couldn’t even fetch me yourself, could you.’ Pulling off the gloves you were wearing and held them in one hand, taking in the Garrison interior.

It sure had changed a lot since you last set foot in it. It was very red and very gold, not the typical colours that fit around Small Heath and definitely not the colour palette of Thomas Shelby.

Thomas stopped pouring, bringing his lips to the glass, his deep cough bringing you back. ‘I know you.’

He looked as good as the day you left Small Heath. His dark raven hair now fading to a grey, similar to the smoke he was dragging from his cigarette. Dark suit, dark hair, dark soul.

‘I am not sure you do, Mr. Shelby.’

‘I remember everyone’s faces,’ smoke left his lips. ‘Marianne’s daughter? Hung up washing every other day. Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays.’

‘I prefer not to speak of the past.’ You cleared your throat, sitting down on a bar stool, placing your gloves on the counter.

And just like that your mind thought even more of him. What his hands would feel like on your skin, his lips on yours, what it would feel like to hear your name on the tip of his tongue in amorousity. What would his face feel like in your hands as you pulled him closer, him snaking his firm arms around your torso trying to pull you closer.

‘You look different.’ Thomas took a look at you: hair done, dress, mink fur coat, lips coated a wine red, heels that cost more than a house on Watery Lane.

‘I much prefer this look.’

Thomas stayed silent, grabbing another glass and poured a hefty serving of some whisky that he was sipping himself. The amber liquor left a burning sensation, warming you up, the need of your jacket fading as your temperature rose. Thomas refilled it as soon as you placed it back down.

‘What has your father come up with?’

Reaching for your briefcase you had brought with you, you took out a stack of papers, placing them onto the counter next to the whisky glasses, turning them so he was able to read through it. ‘This contract states that each area that is currently controlled by Peaky men and Youngs will continue to belong to them. Neither party is allowed to take territory,’ you pointed your pen onto the sheet of paper, ‘infiltration of any kind is prohibited as well as causing crimes in each other’s perimeters.’

Another shot fired down his throat. Wetness coating his lips, lips licking the last drops of gold.

‘I will give this a good read before I sign anything. I’m sure you understand, Miss Young.’

‘I understand completely. We were sure this would happen so just have it signed by the end of the week. Mail it. And please, call me Y/n.’

‘What happens if I don’t sign it?’

‘Well I wouldn’t know,’ you chuckled, taking out a cigarette for your own.

Before being able to reach for your pack of matches, Thomas had already burnt a stick, holding it towards you.

Taking a long drag you let the hot smoke fill your lungs. ‘I’m simply acting as an ambassador. I prefer not to get my hands dirty.’

‘But your eyes.’ Thomas tossed his bud into the empty glass, bracing himself against the counter, his darkened eyes staring a hole into you.

‘What about them.’

‘They like to get dirty.’

‘I’m sorry?’ You tapped your cigarette, the corner of your lip curling.

‘Do you want to fuck me, Y/n.’ His eyes went through you like a blast of his, his directness almost causing you to choke on your drink.

Puffing out the smoke you had inhaled you leaned forward, ‘I mean I came for the signature but I wouldn’t resist if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ You tried suppressing a laugh, ‘have you looked in the mirror?’

Thomas turned around to face the Garrison’s mirror, briefly meeting your eyes, staring at his reflection.

‘What do you see?’ You slowly got off your seat, walking along the bar, your hand dragging along the counter to meet him behind the wooden wall that had separated you too many times.

He turned around facing you, raising his eyebrows with an unreadable look on his face, the type of face that let people know that Thomas Shelby was a man to reckon with.

‘Nothing.’

‘I see a good looking man,’ you carefully placed your hand on his cock, covered by the fabric of his trousers, another border you wanted to cross.

His hand shot up to grab your face, pushing you against the bar’s wall, the slam of the wood sending a short wave of tweaking pain down your spine, covered by his thumbs pressing into your jaw, almost hindered you from moving completely, heat rushing down to your cunt as you finally had gotten Thomas’s touch you craved since too long. Remembering too many night you had spent with your hands between your legs, moaning the name of a man you had thought paid no attention to you.

‘Is this some kind of trick?’ He hissed, his torso closing in on you, your chest filling with heavy breaths making your chest move against his, arousal dripping down you like damp hair after a steamy shower.

‘Isn’t a woman ever allowed to simply fuck a man because he’s pretty to look at?’

His eyes held yours, his forehead inching closer as his lips hovered over yours. His hot breathing ricocheting off your red lips, breaths of smoke mixing pervasively.

‘One night.’ He whispered, his lips so close you could almost taste them.

‘One night.’

Barely a sound escaped you before he cupped your face, his lips colliding with yours and his force pressed you even further into the wall. Your bodies pressed together against the wall, breathing heavily as his lips marked their way down your neck. You could taste your shared breath of smoke, feel the pounding of your heartbeat as you fumbled to take off one another's clothes.

Heat arose from your stomach to your chest and spread out your entire body. You waited a few seconds before giving into his touch and parting your lips to kiss him. He deepened the kiss, as if trying to reach the back of your throat. You hungrily kissed him back, tongue pushing past his teeth. The bristles of his stubbles scratched against your flushed cheeks as you gripped his head firmly, as to keep him from escaping.

Tommy’s left hand travelled down your figure to grab a hand full of your ass. A moan escaped your soft lips making him groan in lust.

Tommy’s lips smashed against yours, pushing your body on top of the counter, clearing everything in sight. His arms found themselves to your lower back, your hands tangled in his coal hair.

‘Thomas,’ you mumbled out a concealed moan.

His lips and teeth gently sank into your skin whilst his tongue was rubbing against your delicate skin. Your arm was thrown over his neck, your hands playing with his hair. He moved down to your shoulder removing the strap to gain more access to your body. Your continuous moans filled the room mixing in with the muffled sounds of men fighting just outside the Garrison.

‘If I had known you were this pretty under your bruised body and dirty drapes, I would’ve fucked you sooner.’ he stared into your eyes, before lowering his head to your naked chest.

Tommy's wet tongue made contact with your hard nipple, gently blowing onto it. His tongue glided on the outskirts of your tits, kneading them thoroughly. You hissed at the pleasure you were receiving. His teeth found their way to your nipple gently nibbling, his wetness increasing your arousal..

‘You like the way I touch you, don’t you?’ you could feel his smirk against your skin.

You nodded, feeling his hand make its way down to your cunt. Tommy’s finger went along your slit, earning a twitch from your body. He parted your lips with his index and middle finger and started to explore your already wet pussy.

‘We haven't even started, and you're soaked? Just for me,’ he chuckled. ‘What a good whore you are. You're only this wet for me.’ he pushed his fingers inside of your pussy, making you arch your back.

‘Does this feel good? Do you like my fingers inside of your wet cunt.’ Thomas spoke into your neck.

‘Yes, yes it feels s-so good.’ you moaned.

His lips kept him busy at your neck and collar, leaving dark marks. He began to pump his fingers out of you slowly, too slow for your liking. Your hands grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, trying to ask for more.

‘Such a needy little whore. Aren’t you satisfied?’ he cocked at you.

You barely had time to take another breath, before he attached his mouth to your already aching cunt.

‘Fuck,’ you yelled out, grabbing a fistful of his blond hair. A deep moan escaped Tommy’s lips, sending vibrations through your body.

He added another finger going even faster than his previous pace, curling his fingers, hitting your spot, making you lose it. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, making you cry out in euphoria. With every forceful hit you felt your orgasm draw nearer and nearer. It felt like a knot inside of your stomach was going to explode any second and he took notice of it. Just before you could release your screams, he pulled out his digits and grinned. But before you could argue with him, he re-attached his mouth to your clit and started to swirl his tongue in every possible direction, gathering more moans that left your lips. Your hands were grasping his hair, whilst your toes were crinkling and your back was arched. The sequins of your green mini dress pressed into your skin adding to the pleasure.

‘Please just make me cum,’ you whimpered.

His hand shot up and grabbed your neck tightly, forcing you to look at him. He put pressure onto your throat, leaving you to gape at him, his chest rising with each breath he took.

‘What did you just say to me?’

‘Can you please make me cum.’

‘From the moment I touch that wet little cunt of yours, you are mine. My property. My whore. So I get to decide when you cum. Understood?’ he growled.

You nodded.

‘Speak up when I ask you a question!’ he got up on his feet and towered over you, dark eyes staring into your soul.

‘Yes sir, I understand.’ taking a huge gulp, you watched him take off his pants and jumper.

His chest swelled with air as he trailed his finger down to the base of his cock, twitching under his own touch. Your breath hitched, trying to get as much oxygen into your lungs, as you watched him come towards you. His hand still stroked over his hardened shaft, collecting a small speck of pre cum.

‘On your knees.’ he said, and like a well trained dog, you obliged.

Grabbing your jaw, thumb gently rubbing over your lips. You were at eye level with his cock, and it was bigger than expected. ‘There we go.’

‘Do you want this?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’you answered, feeling your cheeks heat up.

‘Yes, what?...’

‘Yes, Sit, I want your cock.’ you said.

Growling, he pushed the head of the shaft past your lips, hitting the back of your throat.

Tommy tangled his fingers into your messy hair, eager to push in deeper. You swallowed around his throbbing member earning a huffed moan.

‘You like that don't you,’ he thrusted in and out of your aching jaw. ‘You liked being used for my cock don't you.’

You nodded, not being able to speak, but he didn't like the non verbal communication.

He pulled out his cock giving you time to breathe.

‘I said, don't you?’

‘Yes Sir, yes! I love being used for your cock.’ you gasped out for air before he slid back inside of you.

You pressed your tongue against his shaft, trying to satisfy him.

‘So, so eager for me, aren't you, pet.’ he groaned.

His hands found their way to your hair and pulled your head back, allowing him further access to your throat. A mixture of tears, saliva and cum were streaming down your face, but he didn't seem to mind, deep groans continuing to escape his deep-pink lips.

‘Such a nasty whore. Look at you. Pathetic’" he glanced down, staring into your eyes. ‘You look so good taking my cock. Maybe this will teach you something about manners.’

A pool of cum was now dripping below you. You couldn't help it, you were so turned. You needed him. Before you could register, your head was yanked up.

‘Look at me!’

Your eyes shot up and stared into his eyes.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ he moaned loudly before releasing into your mouth, slowly pulling his cock out of your aching mouth.

‘Swallow like the little slut you are.’ he ordered.

You swallowed his load, which tasted bitter and sweet, with a hint of saltiness.You opened your mouth, stuck out your tongue, showing him you obeyed.

‘What a good little fuck toy you are.’ he smirked at you before ordering you to sit back on the bed.

‘Do you deserve to cum?’ he asked.

‘Please Sir, please let me cum.’ you begged him, ‘I need to cum.’

Tommy laughed, tracing his fingers along his cock. ‘And what will you do if I let you cum?’ He snickered, clearly finding the sight of you rather amusing.

‘Anything!’ you breathe out, not realising how bad you needed him.

‘So desperate for me.’ He trailed on. ‘Lets see if I can make an excuse.’

He lowered his body towards the floor and moved to your neck where he started placing wet, sloppy kisses below your earlobe. His tongue drew down to your stomach.

‘Just make me cum.’

Immediately regretting your words, your eyes shot wide as he stopped and retrieved his head from your stomach.

‘Watch that filthy little mouth of yours or do I have to fuck it again!’

A hot sting was burning up on your cheek. He slapped you.

You shook your head smiling. ‘I'm sorry Sir, it won't happen again.’

‘You filthy whore, you like it.’ he narrowed his eyes, gripping your chin. You were silent.

In a matter of seconds, he raised his hand and brought it down to the opposite side of your face, sending your head to the side. You winced in pain, knowing it would leave red marks for at least 48 hours.

‘Fucking whore.’ and in one swift motion he struck you straight in the jaw, making you see tiny black spots.

The taste of liquid metal dripped onto your tongue, and out of your mouth, hitting your chest. Blood. When your eyesight came back to normal, you saw Thomas watching you, chest falling heavily.

‘I hope that taught you some manners, otherwise I'm going to have to continue,’ he gritted through his clenched teeth.

‘Yes sir, I have learnt my lesson.’

‘Now tell me, what do you want me to do?’ he asked, watching your eyes trail to his cock.

‘I want you to fuck me.’ you said, not being able to withstand it. ‘I...I want you to fuck me me.’

‘Of course you do, little whore.’ he pumped his shaft faster, groaning.

Thomas placed you on the counter, brushing the tip of his cock against your opening. You wanted to roll your eyes and swear at him, but you couldn't. Instead you bucked your hips back, trying to give him a better reach. He grinned before placing his knee between your legs, before thrusting into your core, making you yelp out.

‘Fuck!’ you shakily whispered. That one thrust was able to stretch out your wet cunt.

Your face was held in place with Tommy’s hand, forcing you to look at him again.

‘Quiet, pet.’, he said. ‘Or did I say you could talk?’

You shook your head.

‘Then stay quiet.’

He continued to pump in and out of you, moans muffling into his chest. The room filled with the loud slaps of your bodies colliding.

‘You're so fucking tight.’ he grunted into your neck. ‘It's like you were made to make my cock. Look at you, taking my cock like the good, filthy, little whore you are. My pet. My fuck toy.’

Suddenly the door to the Garrison opened.

Arthur and John stepped into the room as Tommy’s cock continued to pound into you.

‘Thomas,’ Arthur coughed, his lips pressed together as he uncomfortably tried to look away, at John, hiding away before slowly turning to witness the sight. ‘Y/n…’

‘Don’t worry we won’t look,’ John said, making his way across the room, both of their eyes not leaving your body.

You glanced at them, having felt their lingering eyes on you.

‘Arthur,’ a soft moan escaped you as you gazed at him, watching make his way to the backdoor.

John snickered, aggressively throwing himself at Arthur.

You took a look at John, the knot in your stomach tightening, ‘John!’ You cried out in euphoria, as Thomas pulled you into a climax, sending your body into shudders. He kept on thrusting, overstimulating you, until moments later, he reached his high as well, filling you up with his cum.

Tommy slid his cock out of you and stared down at the sight of you. ‘What?’ he scoffed. ‘You think I’m done with you? After what you just did?’

Arms steadying your body, you were pulled off the counter in a swift motion, ass against Tommy’s cock as his hand wrapped around your throat pulling you close to him.

‘I’m done with you when I say I am. Understood?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘We will now leave…Sir.’ John snickered.

Before you could think about sneaking a glance at them, Tommy’s cock slipped back into your pussy. You threw your head back in pleasure, biting your bottom lip. Waves of pleasure hit your body like a tsunami ready to destroy everything. Every nerve in your body was on fire and engulfed your entire body.

‘Open your mouth.’

Opening your mouth you stuck out your tongue and stared into his eyes smiling.

‘Such a good fucking slut.’ He hissed in pleasure before spitting in your mouth.

‘Swallow like the good girl you are.’

Swallowing his saliva you stuck your tongue back out, grinning in seduction.

Your orgasm was coming close and washed over your body in no time. Panting, you rested your back against the wall not being able to move just quite yet.

‘Such a good girl.’ he said, as he slid two fingers up your throbbing cunt, collecting your juices. ‘Taste yourself.’

As he commanded, you opened your mouth, letting the fingers slide into your mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits, sucking off all your cum. Pulling his cock out of you, his lips brushed against you once more, the taste of one night fading into addiction.

‘One night.’

‘One night.’ You caught his lips once more before he left, surrounded by your clothes, just as alone when you got there in the first place. Just as alone in your past. Always and inevitably alone.