#girl (but in a fag way) your nails | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pezberrywhoreee · 11 months ago

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Mean girls kink and fetish headcanons!!!

my credentials are: im a kinkster, i practice safe and informed bdsm and i have a sub....hope that's good enough for y'all :D

will i be projecting my kinks onto them? you know itttttt

- i think she's a dom leaning switch. she's not too fussed about positions though, she'll do whatever she wants when she feels like it. i just imagine that she likes to dom more

- that's a hard/mean dom if ive ever seen one. heavy sadist

- i don't think she has a strictly preferred honourific or title but she's open to "mommy", "mistress", "goddess" and "sir". i imagine she gets off on little girls saying her name because she loves herself.

- heavy on impact play as a top. she has a secret stash of a few expensive toys like floggers and crops but it's mainly pervertables. she loves convenience but if she's feeling nice then she'll spoil you and let you choose which expensive one she buys.

- humiliation too as a top. she is almost too good at degradation and mocking. she is at all times perfecting the skill of how to overstimulate you verbally. she's great at picking up on little reactions that she can mock, which brings on more reactions and then all of a sudden you're kneeling in public.

- heavy into worship when she's takes a (brief) break from being mean. she'd make you worship her for hours, head to toe. maybe recite prayers for her about why you don't deserve her.

- breath play but specifically the hand over the mouth choke rather than directly on the throat.

- somno and it's giving "sorry baby, i was just so frustrated and you looked so pretty and open, go back to sleep".

- heavy oral fixation either way. fingers in mouths, strap sucking, eating pussy (obviously!! this bitch loves sitting on faces and hearing mouths fill up beneath her), spit, making out. i'll also group boot licking into here.

- dacryphilia...enough said (that's the paraphilia for crying, dumbasses <3)

- that said, she is definitely trying to be more of a mental dom because she loves playing with minds but she clings to the perceived physicality of bdsm...but she's trying!

- forced submission but not super intense. she wants to train you into not having any walls up so she can get into your head and push you deep into submission.

- she really gets into slurs!!! definitely a 'dyke' and 'fag' every once in a while!

- omg i honestly think she's a secret masochist. she would never outwardly admit it though, but she wants nails digging into her and bleeding scratches.

- first things first, i want to say that i think janis is a really good dom. probably the best and most responsible kinkster out of all of them. she finds the non-sexual element of kink and bdsm just as important.

- i feel that she's more dom leaning but is more than willing to submit in order to experience what she is going to be inflicting or giving to a sub.

- it's giving service dom sun, mommy dom moon and hard dom rising. she's very caring and wants to do anything to please you but she'll do it till you're crying.

- shibari master. this is very obvious. but im talking almost only japanese bondage. she'll make an exception for a western tie if she's doing quick bondage but it's very much an art for her. shibari combines her appreciation of art with her sexually in touch nature and that's why she's so good at it. she's also working up to do suspension which is what drew her to rope bondage in the first place. i think she specialises in floor bondage but she dreams of doing full body suspension. favourite ties - futomomo, overhead harness.

- i know that power dynamic is a given, but she makes sure to reinforce that shit constantly. very much normalising honourifics and them being an everyday thing (she enjoys "mommy" and "sir"), she'd collar you eventually too.

- needles. anything that can be artistic, she does with a lot of effort and care. i think she would love to do wings and other intricate designs. probably not too often, but it would be very special when she did.

- big into temperature play, specifically wax and more burning sensations. again, she considers this as an art, with the plus that it also has the benefits of creating really visceral sensations.

- sensory deprivation. she often likes to do scenes where four of your five senses are taken away, and she can have her way with you <3

- forced submission. she is actively training you to drop at one command, or one look or a certain type of touch. a big goal of hers it to have you brain dead eventually.

- armpits, specifically smothering girls with her pit while she gets them off. janis imi'ike is at all times searching for girls who will deeply sniff her pits and groan while doing so. i know what you are, imi'ike.

- i feel that she's more natural at praise then degradation, but she loves both. she definitely wants to eventually get you off purely verbally.

- hypno. she loves mind fucking, it's her favourite. she has a strong urge to corrupt people from the inside out which is why i think she takes a lot of pride in being more of a "mental" dom.

- not necessarily a kink, but she loves to do scenes where she doms multiple subs at once.

- petplay, but i think she's more down to be a handler or an owner. she loves pups, and kitties and bunnies the most (corruptable)

- the subbiest sub to ever sub in this sub world.

- she would never call herself a brat but she definitely has little brat-isms that her dom's enjoy. but i think she'd do anything for anyone if they had an ounce of dominance. she tries really hard to be obedient and she succeeds most of the time. everyone clap for cady! *claps all around*

- i think she really loves being called "pup", "puppy" or "pet" as an always title. she also gives "girl" and "little girl" vibes since she seeks out mommy's. loves being taken care of omg

- puppy!! this person is a in a consistent (not a 24/7 dynamic but it's definitely an inherent mommy-puppy dynamic) pet dynamic. she goes fully out: collar, toys, bowl, knee pads and mitts, hood, mannerisms!! she's probably a dachshund or a golden lab!

- breath play, not just because of the obvious power exchange but also the compression at the sides of her neck.

- huge praise kink. she'll do anything to get praised. she also needs constant reassurance that's she's a good pup in order for her to get off, so it's almost fetish level. little phrases like "that's it" "that's right" "keep doing that" make her unbelievably whiney.

- size difference. I feel that she really enjoys the power dynamic being reinforced in little ways. so having a taller dom to throw her around is very important to her submission.

- light impact. she's definitely a thuddy type of girl but she'll take anything that you have to give to her. definitely loves face slapping too. loves a paddle. she actually has one that says 'puppy' on it and it leaves a cute little mark.

- marking. she finds the reminder of her submission really vital too, so she enjoys to have bite marks, scratches, bruises, welts on her body. she gets off on power exchange, people!!

- orgasm detail and overstimulation. there is an element of suffering that she really enjoys. maybe not super masochistcly but she likes the suspense of being edged and how overwhelming it is to be overstimulated.

- hand fetish, she loves big, strong, veiny, lesbian hands

- rope bunny (well...puppy). once again, that wider scale compression makes her feel very secure and safe and helpless which puts her into that warm, fuzzy headspace where she can have someone else think for her, for once. favourite ties - armbinder and hip weave harness

- it's pretty obvious that she is the biggest service sub. she is there to do anything you say and more.

- puppy, definitely a dumb pup. names like "puppy", "pup" and "mutt" really do it for her. i feel that she likes to be reminded that she's only there to make her doms feel good and nothing else.

- huge mommy kink!! she actually asks all her doms if she can call them 'mommy' before they even tell her their honourifics (canon). she wants to be mommy-ed and taken care of. she loves the duality of how someone can care of her one minute and then be ruining her the next.

- the puppy in her really loves sniffing pits. she's a little ashamed of this one but she loves doing it nonetheless. i feel that she begs to be buried in mommy's pits very often.

- rope bunny, again similar to cady's love for it. she longs for that physical compression of her muscles and puts her in a good headspace. i can really see her being into mummification and suspension too.

- corruption and dumbification. clearly regina's consistent asshole-ness has rubbed off on her and now she wants to be made dumb and please people until she can't speak. she wants each of her thoughts to be controlled and manipulated.

- degradee...see above. she likes to be slutted out.

- overall loves making her mommy(s) proud and happy and loved.

- i deadass think she doesn't care about positions in the slightest but she tends to sub more just cause of dynamics.

- she loves being called "bun", "bunny" and "girl". she's pretty soft most of the time but she can get edgy depending on the dom and their kinks.

- she's very much into everything anytime. she's flagging orange (if you don't know what im refering to, please look up hanky code and educate yourself. this is basic queer history!!)

- pet regression and age regression. this is very rarely sexual for her. she likes to be in a safe, young headspace when she's around her doms! she's definitely a bunny, has a little tail and and everything. i imagine that her ages are anywhere between four and ten.

- group sex. I feel like she likes showing off to a lot of doms at once. showing them skills that she's been taught. i also get the vibe that she really likes being ordered to put on a show with other subs for their dom.

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thetargaryenbride · 2 years ago

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Nail To The Coffin - S2 - Chapter 9

Warnings: mention of the word fag, some blood and injury description

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 5086

A.N: FINALE of season 2. I hope I did Billy justice. It's hard to imagine someone with his personality having a vulnerable moment and trying to reach out but I hope I did his character justice...before the impending doom that is season 3 :') As always, please do make me know if I’ve written certain characters OOC and if you think there is something that can be corrected within the story. Thank you for reading. Hope you like it! 🖤 🥀

Masterlist || Chapter 8 || S3, Chapter 1

You woke up a few days later when the afternoon sun shone harshly on your face. For a moment there you thought you were back in your room and that it was yet another tiring school day, making you groan as you tried to get up. And then you felt the throbbing pain in your side which elicited a loud whimper.

“Y/N!?” exclaimed Steve as he and Jonathan rushed to your side and began fussing over you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Does it hurt too much?”

“Should we call the doctor?”

“I think we should.”

“Jesus…whoever said that men weren’t emotional?” you drawled jokingly and they looked at you in surprise before bursting into light chuckles.

“She’s alive and kicking, ladies and gentlemen!” exclaimed Steve and you smiled at him.

“How did the doctors even let you and your loud mouth in?” you shook your head.

“I just told them they can’t keep me from seeing my girl, that’s all,” he shrugged as a soft smile graced his features and your cheeks heated up as you stared at him lovingly.

“I’m…still here,” coughed awkwardly Jonathan and you and Steve sputtered.

“Uh, yeah, right!”

“Sorry about that…”

“Yeah, I’m just, uh, gonna get a doctor,” he excused himself before leaving the room which left you and Steve alone.

The boy sat on the edge of the bed, careful to not make contact with your torso, and took your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours while his other hand went to stroke yours. He stared at your two hands, biting the inside of his cheek. You wanted to ask what was eating him up but chose to give him time to speak whenever he felt like it.

“I thought I lost you,” he finally muttered, gulping nervously, and your expression melted into one of guilt and sympathy.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered and he shook his head.

“It’s not your fault…I just…I just wish I was there to protect you,” he finally looked up and you could see the guilt in his eyes.

“Hey, no, you can’t do this to yourself…” you muttered as you lifted your free hand and gently placed it on his cheek. “You couldn’t have known about Will and the lab and the monsters…It all happened too suddenly…Steve, you did more than enough for me and for my family,” you reassured him and he gulped again, nodding hesitantly. “Come here,” your hand slid from his cheek to his neck as you pulled slightly and he understood what you wanted to do, lowering himself closer to your face.

You stared into his deep, brown eyes filled with regret, guilt, worry, and love and you wondered how blind you must have been to not notice that love before. You traced each bruise on his beautiful face, the hand that had been entwined with his now coming to caress his black eye. You grasped both sides of his face and brought him closer, peppering each bruise with soft kisses before halting and looking at his lips.

Before you could move, he pressed his lips against yours and you felt as if dozens of fireworks erupted inside you.

“I love you,” you breathed out in the kiss and you could feel him smiling before deepening the kiss. When you finally parted he looked at you, seeing the way your own eyes were equally as full of love and admiration as were his. He too wondered how he hadn’t noticed earlier. The two of you had been able to put on masks and restrict yourselves from doing things that were deemed inappropriate if a boy and girl weren’t together. But all you really needed to do was look at each other – properly look at each other.

As cheesy as it sounded, it was all in the eyes. They were proclaimed the window to the soul for a reason.

“I love you too,” he said with a smile as he bit his lip and you chuckled breathily. “I can’t believe that Henderson was actually right about something,” he shook his head and you lifted your brows curiously.

“About what?”

“He called us blind idiots,” snorted the boy and you guffawed.

“I mean it hurts my pride to be called out by a thirteen-year-old but…”

“Well…better late than never.”

“Alright, so, here’s the prescription of the antibiotics, probiotics, and other supplements Y/N/N will have to take for the following sixty days until she recovers fully. Uh, the doctor said he wants to keep her for at least a week before discharging her,” your brother explained everything the doctor had told him to your mother who had just arrived after Jonathan had called to tell her you were awake.

While waiting for your mom to arrive and after speaking to the doctor, Jonathan and Steve filled you in about everything that had happened after you had gotten admitted to the hospital.

Apparently, Hopper had done a good job with the stitching but some blood had still managed to seep through and when you had been suddenly jerked and moved around, some of the stitches had torn which had resulted in more blood seeping through the gashes. On top of all, it turned out that the monster had damaged some of your organs when it had slashed at you. It hadn’t been able to tear the tissue or puncture them but it had grazed the surface of the colon and the spleen, breaking some ribs in the process, and when you had been jerked around, those broken ribs had contributed to the graze by making it larger and rupturing the spleen and also digging and tearing more into your flesh which had caused more blood to gush out, hence the blood loss on top of the damaged organ. But the good news was that you hadn’t spent much time in this condition and you were brought to the hospital fairly soon so the doctors had done a blood transfusion and had treated your injuries. You had taken a couple of days to regain consciousness because your body needed lots of rest in order to gather enough energy to heal and adjust to the sudden loss and gain of blood.

A jarring experience it was.

“Ok…ok, we’ll-we’ll do that. We’ll do that and you’ll see how fast you’ll recover, honey,” smiled Joyce as she let out a big breath of relief and squeezed your hand soothingly.

“Don’t worry, mom. I’ll be ok,” you smiled at her reassuringly before your eyes flickered to Steve who was sitting on the chair behind her, legs spread, using them as armrests. He sent you a smile and yours grew even more. Then you turned to look at Will who was quietly sitting on the chair by the bed, looking at his lap and fiddling with his fingers. “I’m more worried about this guy, however. What’s wrong, sweetie? What’s bugging you?” you asked and Will chewed on the inside of his lip before he looked you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry…it’s my fault all of this happened. You got hurt…again…” he muttered and your eyes widened.

“Wha-what are you talking about!? You have no fault in this!” you shifted in your sitting position, straightening up and scooting closer to the edge of the bed so you could grasp his shoulders firmly. “Listen… Listen well. You have no fault for any of this. We’re talking about a monster from another dimension. Do you think a child stands a chance against that kind of thing? Hell, not even grown people like the scientists could handle this…Nobody expected that thing to be so powerful and smart, much less to wreak such havoc. A-and look, even if it wasn’t you, the creature would’ve surely found another victim to use in order to get to our world and do damage. I don’t want to hear you blame yourself ever again…ok?” you asked as you looked into his eyes, searching for some kind of agreement and enlightenment but there was nothing in there but guilt and sadness.

He nodded but you knew he didn’t really believe your words. At least for now. So you just pulled at him, making him sit on the bed, and brought him to your side to hug him tightly while Steve, Joyce, and Jonathan looked on with pained expressions. “We’re going to share this burden…until you realize it’s not your fault, we’re going to share the guilt,” you stated after a while and he pulled away to look at you, confusion written on his face.

“What?”

“Look, if I had brought you to Dr. Owens as soon as I wanted to, things would’ve been completely different. I just know it. We would’ve brainstormed, would’ve come up with the idea of burning this shit out of you sooner. Also? Bob died because of me. Not you,” you told him and his eyebrows furrowed as he went to protest but you beat him to it. “If I hadn’t wasted time standing there and had moved faster, the two of us could’ve escaped the monster. But I didn’t…I just wasn’t fast enough…and Bob died saving me,” you gulped as your eyes watered.

“But I led the Demo-dogs into the lab,” he sniffed.

Joyce shut her eyes, tears escaping the corners, as she listened to her children try to take the burden off each other before she clapped her hands, gaining their attention.

“Enough of this!” she voiced firmly as she looked at you both and closed the distance, placing hands on each of your shoulders. “None of you is to blame. None of you is responsible for either of this... You are not responsible for Bob’s death. The monster would’ve jumped on him b-because he was standing right t-there. You saved him by pushing him away. It was-it was his choice to come back and save you… He chose to be a hero and not a coward,” she told you wobbly as another tear slid down her face and your lip trembled. “And you are not to blame for being possessed by an alien monster and being connected to its army. Your actions weren’t yours. You were just being used,” she sniffed as she spoke to Will.

“Mom’s right…you have no fault for any of this. You were just victims of this creature. You are innocent,” joined Jonathan as he too came to sit on the bed.

You and Will could only look at each other before back at your mother and brother and the four of you got into a big, family hug. Steve smiled as he watched you hug and something akin to longing was filling his heart. He wished that his family was as tight-knit as yours. He felt all alone in the world sometimes.

But then you beckoned him over and he just stood there frozen, not knowing if he should come over but when you sent him another look he hesitantly approached you and joined the hug, being warmly welcomed not only by you but by the others as well.

You didn’t know how long all of you cried and hugged one another but with each passing second, warmth and ease were spreading in you more and more and you hoped that Will felt the same way. It might not be right now. It might take time. But you were going to overcome this together and you would come out stronger as individuals and as a family.

And now you had an additional member too.

You woke up the same night because of a rancid feeling. You felt as if your lungs were bubbling and filling with something and you couldn’t breathe as you shot up in bed and clutched your chest, taking ragged gulps of air. The hustling immediately woke up Steve and your family and they were by your side in seconds.

“W-what is going on?” exclaimed Joyce worriedly. “Jonathan, call a doctor!” she all but shouted and your brother was out of the room in an instant.

“Bathroom,” you gasped out as you struggled to get out of bed and Steve quickly unplugged all and any cables and IVs that were connected to you and helped you get on your feet.

You took ahold of his arm and clutched it tightly as you rushed as much as physically possible to the bathroom and pretty much collapsed against the sink, gripping tightly the white marble as you belched and coughed. Blood came out of your mouth and stained the clean surface, making everyone gasp as their eyes blew open in shock and panic.

And then you coughed out something that landed with a disgusting squelch. It kind of looked like a slug, but not really, and it seemed to be dead because it was unmoving. Saliva and blood dripped from your mouth as you tried regaining your breathing, the horrible feeling in your lungs now gone.

“What the hell,” mumbled Steve and Will gulped as he stared at the creature.

“It almost looks like a smaller version of Dart.”

“Fucker!” you gasped out in disbelief as realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “Now I understand why Dr. Owens said I was marked…but he was wrong. I wasn’t a host and I wasn’t building any connection…I was a goddamn incubator,” you scrunched up your face and the others mirrored your appalled reaction. “That thing used me to grow its spawn inside of me,” you spat out the remaining blood and saliva and glared at the dead creature.

“It probably used Will as well. Maybe that’s how the Demo-dogs came into existence. I mean, there’s no other logical explanation,” offered Steve and you rubbed your forehead in frustration.

“I cannot believe this.”

“Well, at least they all died after El closed the gate. This one here serves as proof that everything is good now. No more monsters,” tried to comfort you Steve as he rubbed your arms up and down and you leaned against him, nuzzling in his shoulder.

You desperately wanted to believe his words.

With the gate closed you were looking forward to peaceful times and no more monsters.

A couple of weeks later

You exited your car and let out an anxious sigh as you stared at the house that stood in front of you. For a moment there it felt much larger than it was in reality, towering over you like a gigantic predator. It was ridiculous to feel scared of approaching this and it seemed much easier when you imagined it in your head but actually coming face to face with the boy you didn’t know how to feel about was intimidating.

You drummed your fingers on the car’s ceiling a couple of times until you finally decided to close the door and march towards the house’s entrance. You rubbed your hands nervously before ringing the doorbell.

“What is it?“

“Billy, hi,” you smiled at the boy who had yanked open the door and he raised his brows.

“Byers? The hell are you doing here?” he asked, tone filled with curiosity, but before you could respond, you lost your voice when your eyes landed on his bruised cheek, split lip, and blackening eye.

“What happened?!” you exclaimed as you took a step closer and he immediately took one back.

“Got into a fight. Nothing of significance.”

“I’ve seen you get into many fights before, including the one when you almost beat my boyfriend into a coma, but you just never seem to get any physical consequences,” you chirped and he let out a huff.

“That’s only ‘cause everyone here is weak as hell.”

“Then how come this one got you that good?” you narrowed your eyes and his lips tightened.

“Billy!” an angry voice sounded from inside the house and you leaned sideways to look from around the boy, noticing an approaching figure. “How many times do I have to repeat myself about-“ the man finally came to the door and his yelling ceased the moment he saw you, angry lines melting into a charming smile. “I didn’t know we had company.”

“Uh, yeah, she was just leaving,” cleared his throat Billy and you looked on with furrowed eyebrows, eyes darting between him and his father, lip twitching and threatening to curl up in a disgusted sneer as you slowly began putting pieces together.

“It’d be rude to just send her off without inviting her, wouldn’t it? Where are your manners, boy?” smiled tightly the man and although he was trying to keep a more light-hearted tone, you could detect the sternness and the bite he was trying to suppress.

“Yeah, sure. Come in, Byers,” he nodded with his head and stepped away, allowing you to enter which you did hesitantly, mindful to not get close to the unpleasant man.

“What’s your name?” he asked as he extended a hand for greeting. “Mine is Neil Hargrove.”

“Y/N Byers,” you grasped his hand but didn’t return his smile, causing his to falter ever so slightly.

“Oh…you’re the girl who got attacked a couple of weeks ago.”

“Indeed, I am. And Billy was the one who brought me to the hospital. Saved my life,” you revealed and Neil looked at the boy in question who only fidgeted in his spot a bit, not used to hearing you speak like this, especially because it was concerning him. He didn’t know you well but to him, it almost felt as if you were subtly trying to put off his father. Tick him off on purpose. “You must be very proud of your son, Mr. Hargrove,” you poked at him, looking him dead in the eyes and he cleared his throat.

“Of course I’m proud.”

“I was wondering if I could speak to him…in private?” you asked and he was quick to agree, telling Billy that he could take you to his room.

The boy obeyed silently and began climbing the stairs with you following slowly, observing the house of the Hargrove family with mild curiosity.

His room was almost exactly as you had thought it would be – with a big bed, vanity full of male cosmetics, cigarette boxes, and half-filled ashtrays, some strewn clothes, and workout equipment.

The moment he closed the door, you were in his face, hands grasping his chin and cheek, moving his head up, down, and sideways so you could inspect the damage and he took ahold of your wrists, prying you away from him.

“Why did you come?” he grit out. He was never going to admit it out loud but he felt threatened and vulnerable at the way you had caught him in such a moment – in the aftermath of his father’s abuse when he felt lower than the grass.

“He did this, didn’t he?” you answered his question with a question of your own and you could see his face heat up. What you couldn’t put your finger on was whether it did so because of anger or embarrassment.

“This is none of your business,” he replied curtly before gently shoving you away so he could go to the bathroom but you didn’t give him the chance to and quickly gripped his shoulder, making him turn around.

“Billy, just talk to me. I’m not exactly a stranger to this,” you stated firmly and his eyes widened as he stared at you for some time before he let out a sharp exhale and took a few steps backward, plopping down on the bed.

You hesitantly took a step forward and wrapped your arms around your torso as you observed the boy and waited for him to say something, hoping that he would decide to open up so you could lend him a hand in this battle and show him that he wasn’t alone.

“My dad’s a grade-A asshole, alright? Yeah…he does shit like that,” admitted the boy after a minute of silence as he aggressively grabbed the Marlboro box from his bedside cabinet and took out a cigarette, lighting it up. You could only look at him with sympathy.

“Is that why you asked me about my dad? Back at the diner?” you asked, already knowing the answer, and he nodded. Another moment of silence passed as you tried to gather the courage to speak candidly about your experience. “You know, he used to torment my brothers a lot,” you began as you took out your own box of cigarettes and popped one into your mouth while dragging your feet towards the bed and plopping down next to the boy. “He’d call them all kinds of bad things. He’d yell at them, belittle them, push them… He wanted to turn them into his, own sick and twisted version of a man by making them do bad things like hunt and hurt animals just for the sake of killing something. He’d say that getting your hands dirty makes you a real man, otherwise, you’re good-for-nothing trash and a…and a fag,” you shuddered at the offensive word as you took a long drag and Billy snorted.

“That’s…familiar,” he drawled with a mocking smile. “Mine would always call me useless, weak, or a fag if I didn’t perform perfectly at whatever bullshit he’d pick for me to do… At one point, seeing the disappointment on his face turned from something scary into a sick, guilty pleasure of mine. So I’d fail or refuse to do shit on purpose,” he shrugged, blowing our smoke.

“Mm, that’s a feeling I know well... Unfortunately in my case if I did that, he’d just go back to tormenting my brothers. So I had to follow through with whatever he wanted and just…try to distract him and keep him away from them,” you took a drag as you looked at the floor, mind flooding with unpleasant memories you were trying so hard to permanently bury. “Mind you, sometimes it’d become too much to handle, you know… Many times I snapped back at him, yelled at him, called him names…and I’d get my punishment for it,” you chuckled dryly and Billy looked at you intensely as if his eyes could penetrate your present-time, clean skin and see the skin of the past, filled with bruises.

“Mine wants to, uh…make me learn respect and discipline,” he spat out. “He doesn’t think of me as a son. He thinks of me as a soldier he has to train,” he drawled and you let out a long exhale through your nose, rubbing your temple with one hand while the other was busy putting out the cigarette.

When you lifted your face and locked eyes with the boy, you smiled sadly. “We’re more alike than I thought,” you muttered and he stared at you before releasing a light snort, the corner of his lips twitching into a knowing smile.

“Surprisingly we are.”

Silence engulfed you for a minute and before he could say anything, you stormed in the bathroom. He could only scrunch up his face in confusion at the sound of you rummaging through cabinets but when you came back and he saw the alcohol and cotton pads in your hands it all became clear to him.

“Look, I don’t want to be pitied or babied, ok? I’m a grown-ass man. I can take care of myself. You’ve said what you wanted to say. You can go now,” he waved his hand dismissively but you refused to listen and sat down next to him, making him groan in frustration.

“Do you remember what I told you that night?” you questioned and he lifted his brows. “That if you stop acting all tough and mighty and like a jerk and begin showing some more kindness to people you’d surround yourself with good friends who’ll do anything for you? Everyone needs good people in their life. Everyone deserves happiness and kindness to be shown to them…So why do you run from it?” you looked him in the eyes and did not let go of the iron hold you had won over him until he finally relented, his scrunched-up features relaxing as he let out a sigh of defeat.

You smiled and poured some alcohol on the cotton pad and gently began dabbing at his bruises.

“Listen, about your father,” he spoke suddenly and you ceased your movements. “I’m sorry you had to go through this shit too,” he muttered and you smiled, taking a hold of his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Hey…I think we’re going to be ok, you and I…we’re tough nuts to crack.”

“Pass me this.”

“Lucas, don’t touch the chicken. Wait for everyone to gather first.”

“One, two, three, four-“

“Another chair right here!”

It was a chaotic December day when you had announced that you, your mother and brothers would be hosting a gathering and the whole party gladly joined you and your family to properly celebrate the end of the horrible events, the closing of Hawkins lab, and the upcoming holidays. Everyone was there – Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Nancy, Steve, and even Hopper and Eleven had come. Speaking of the man, he was responsible for the grill.

“Hey. Hey! Make way for the sausages!” he called out as he marched to the table with two plates full of sausages and Lucas and Dustin hurried to move away.

You had done your part of the helping and cooking already and you were tired so you opted to just watch the scenery from the place by the window you had taken, nursing a mug of hot chocolate. You watched the falling snow and the way some trees swing lightly at the wind and your mind wandered off to deep waters yet again. You almost jumped when you felt arms slither around your waist and a head rest on your shoulder as warm lips kissed the side of your neck and you shifted to get a better look at Steve.

“You looked deep in thought so I came to distract you,” he muttered and you pecked his nose.

“I feel,” uncertain of the future, is what your mind screamed at you, “fine,” you told him and his hold on you tightened, the two of you choosing to stay silent and watch both outside the window and the crowd inside.

You fished out one of the swimming marshmallows and nibbled on it as you chuckled at the bustling going on around you and the multiple cheerful voices, filling the air and creating a joyous atmosphere. Will in particular was having the time of his life, trying to steal some of the fried chicken with Lucas, both of them impatient to try the food, when Hopper slapped their hands away and sent them a scolding look, making them scurry.

Your brother ran to your side and tried using you and Steve as shields which only made you giggle more. You ruffled his hair as you stared at him, eyes filling with hope and heart – with ease.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” asked Will in confusion as his hand immediately flew to his cheek and you chuckled, shaking your head a bit.

“It’s nothing, you’re fine…It’s just good to see you smiling again, sweet boy.”

He gave you a hug and you placed a kiss on his head but just then the doorbell rang and you had to let go and check who was at the door.

“Did you miss your favorite rock star!?” shouted out Eddie as he barged inside and did a typical pose of his, making you snort. Will and Jonathan smiled as they came to greet him and he didn’t hesitate to take Will in his hands and rub his knuckles on his head, making your brother wriggle and groan as his hair got all messed up.

“Guys! I want you to meet one of my best friends,” you announced and everyone turned to look at the boy who suddenly calmed down his erratic behavior and cleared his throat, looking at you uncertainly. You nodded and nudged him with your elbow, urging him to finally take steps forward and go meet the others.

“It was a great idea to invite him. He needs this,” said Jonathan as the two of you observed the way Eddie communicated with the kids and you smiled.

“He deserves to have a big, loving family…And I think we fit the description.”

The doorbell rang again and you and your brother shared a confused look, opening the door.

“You came,” a bright smile graced your features when you came face to face with Billy and Max.

You had told Max of the gathering that you’d be hosting and asked her to invite Billy as well. You just felt that if he was to spend some time with your party, he would begin thinking of some things differently and maybe, just maybe, he would start opening up more and letting actual good people into his life which would definitely be beneficial for his growth. So you were very happy to see the two of them standing at your doorsteps.

“I just came to drop off Max. I’m not staying,” said Billy and your smile fell.

“Well, what if…you stayed just for a while? To warm up and get some food?” you asked hopefully and he just stared at you, pondering on your offer.

“For a while,” he drawled and the smile was back on your face as you stepped aside to let him in.

“I’m sure he’s just playing hard to get. Don’t mind his distant and cold behavior,” smiled Max apologetically and you brought her in for a hug. She was a bit shocked and stood still for a moment before wrapping her arms around you.

“I’m just happy that you two are here.”

She didn’t say anything as the two of you hugged for a while and then you let go and gave her a smile that she returned before you turned to look at the huge group gathering at the table and with a last shared look, the two of you joined them.

It was the most peculiar and miraculous thing – the way your family had expanded.

And because of this outcome a part of you – a more selfish part of you – was grateful for the monsters and the events that you all had to go through. Because it was them that brought you all closer and turned you into this big family.

Life was much more fun with that many friends in it.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #billy hargove x reader #will byers x reader #jonathan byers x reader #reader #reader insert #hopper x reader #Spotify

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angel-gone-dark · 6 months ago

Text

He's Got His Mother's Hips - 1 [Bus Stop Blue]

Self indulgent ass fic where I'm in South Park because... why not. FT. April because she's the hottest bitch in town <3

CW: Slur usage, swearing. You know how these boys are.

He leaned against the sign for the bus stop, sighing in the cold mountain air. The chill was nothing he wasn’t used to, being from New Hampshire originally. Colorado was almost no different- just flatter. He yawned, burying his face in his phone to read fanfiction as he waited, earbuds filling his ears with his favorite tunes.

Cartman stuck his chunky arms out, stopping most of his friend group in their tracks.

“Who the fuck is that??” He scoffed.

“How would we fucking know?” Kyle snapped. “It’s a public bus stop, fatass, he can stand there.”

“He’s in my fucking spot.”

“You can’t own a spot, dipshit.” Kyle huffed, glancing at his phone. They were way too early for the bus, as usual.

The short boy bobbed his head to whatever song was in his ears, his half-up half-down hair moving with him. The boys squinted at the stranger, looking him up and down. He had mostly brunette hair framing his jaw, but the tips were dyed blue. His pale face was round and covered in freckles, red cheeks from the cold hidden under crooked and broken silver wire framed glasses. He was chubby, but not in the same way as Eric. Kyle couldn’t help but think it suited him. He was in ratty clothes- worn jeans and a baggy hoodie with holes in it. His shoes were clearly old, the tips of the toes nearly worn through. He caught their gazes, and he gave a half-hearted wave before looking back downwards. His free hand picked at the skin around his nails.

Stan nearly said something until a surprise hug from Butters knocked the air out of him and Kenny. The bleached boy coughed hard, wheezing.

“Christ almighty, Butters, don’t fucking scare me like that!” He shoved his friend lightly. “I almost hit you.”

“Gee, sorry Stan! Oh, who’s that?” The platinum haired fellow didn’t even wait for an answer, bounding with lanky legs up to the new kid. “Hi there!”

His head slowly raised, eyebrows knit together in concern as the hand that didn’t hold his phone reached up and took out one earbud.

“H-hey..?”

“Heya! I’m Leopold, but everybody jus’ calls me Butters! Good t’ meetya!” He stuck out a hand, jolly. The small guy swallowed thickly with his nerves.

“...L-Leigh.” He shook Butters’s hand gently.

“You’re new here, right?”

“No shit, Butters.” Cartman cut in. “You’re in my spot, fag.”

“My bad.” The brunette, now identified as Leigh, mumbled. He scooted away from the signpost.

“Yeah, your fucking bad, Douchebag.” He huffed, taking ‘his’ spot back. Stan and Kyle rolled their eyes while Kenny attempted to light a cigarette, uncaring.

“Damn lighter.” He grumbled. It was probably out of fluid because of his older brother, Kevin, stealing it for a while. “Huh?”

The strange little guy had, unthinking, lit his own lighter and held it to the cigarette in Kenny’s lips. He briefly noticed that the design was a mouth with bloody fangs, red text spelling out ‘BITE ME’ underneath. He nodded in thanks.

“You smoke?” He asked.

“Absolutely not.” That made Kenny laugh, ending on a wheeze.

“Why do you have a lighter then?” The other boy shrugged.

“Looks cool.” Kenny couldn’t argue with that assessment.

“What else you got in your bag?” He raised his brow.

“Uhhh, TicTacs, chapstick… stuff…” He swallowed. He perked back up when the bus pulled in, waving at them lightly before rushing on.

“Good.” Cartman huffed. “I don’t wanna talk to him ever agai- OH GOD DAMMIT.”

Butters shook his head, grabbing Leigh’s hand and tugging him up.

“That’s Eric’s seat, silly. Come sit with me!” Leigh looked up at him in awe, as the blonde tugged him to nearly sit in his lap as he squished in with Kenny.

The brunette squeaked. A tiny girl a few seats in front of them popped her head up and glared at his kidnapper.

“Stotch, you’re scaring the pants off of him. Come sit up here, hon.” She offered, and he gladly moved with a relieved sigh. “Hi, I’m April.”

He smiled lopsidedly as she shook his hand with delicate grace.

“‘M Leigh. G-good to meet you, thanks for the save.” He expressed, giving her hand a light squeeze, being careful of her nails. They looked good, painted with a practiced precision.

“No worries. Cartman eats every new kid alive, and Leo can be a lil’ suffocating.” Leigh nodded.

“You said it, April.” Having one friend was a relief in this place, at least.

word count: 752

#he's got his mother's hips #south park fanfiction #south park #south park self insert #south park self insert fic #south park oc #south park oc fic #sp-by-april #my beloved

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pinkeoni · 1 month ago

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Helloooooo kind blogger, I appreciate your response, and I hope you don't mind if I take the opportunity to use your response as a leeway into talking about some personal annoyances I have irt this topic in the fandom.

This isn't entirely directed at you, and I apologize that you have to bare the brunt of my rantings, but rather this is aimed at the fandom in a broader sense.

I am aware that this is a rather petty thing to be annoyed/angry with, but hell, this is my fandom blog so I'm gonna talk about petty fandom annoyances dammit!

I think that my general annoyance on this stems from two factors:

1. How the fandom mischaracterizes the Wheeler family

2. How the fandom misconstrues Mike and Will's dynamic irt gender and sexuality

For point one, since season 4 aired two years ago, there's been a concerted effort in the fandom to characterize the Wheelers as an emotionally abusive hell hole in which Mike must escape from. The Wheelers are not perfect, but there is nothing to suggest this.

When it comes to comparing the issues between the Byers and Wheeler households, there is sometimes the claim being made that we are "comparing trauma," but I do think it's fair to say that the Wheelers have a much more stable household than the Byers historically.

Lonnie Byers, the man who called his son a fag, who we saw physically push Jonathan to the wall, who racked up (gambling?) debt and left his family, who did not care about his dead son if only because he could make money off of it, I think is an objectively worse father than Ted Wheeler who, at his worst, is a bit lazy in terms of his fatherly duties.

But okay, I see your reasoning that Byers is also the name of his loving brother and mother.

So now I come to my second point: how the fandom treats Mike and Will's dynamic in terms of gender roles and sexuality.

Historically and culturally, the woman is the one who takes the man's last name. Sure, there are plenty of women who keep their names, or hyphen, or there are even men who take the woman's last name, but that doesn't stop the fact that the woman taking the man's name is a societal norm.

As much as I think Bylers like to claim that they are above these societal norms, or that Byler themselves do not adhere to gender roles, I believe that— at least on a subconscious level— Bylers are assiging Will's last name to Mike because they want him to be the woman of the relationship.

While yes there isn't a "man and woman" in gay relationships, in the case of byler there is certainly a protector (Mike) and the protected (Will) which we understand to be masculine and feminine respectively. And then pair that with their canon characterizations of Mike being your average nerdy guy and Will being sensitive and artsy, and you have a pair where one is more masculine and one is more feminine (at least in a societal sense).

The bylers in the fandom who seem to argue the most loudly against the idea that these two don't need to conform to having a male/female relationship (admittedly I made a post like this in the past) are the ones who are also the loudest fans of the baby girl Mike/Buff Byers dynamic, which is a dynamic entirely predicated on projecting desires on the actors of the characters. Bylers don't want a gendered relationship... unless it is gendered the way they want them to.

There isn't an inherent problem with making Mike more feminine in fanart or fanfic or what have you, but the problem comes when attempts to make Will more girly are met with claims that this is "offensive" and "stereotyping gay men" by the same people who cried when Mike got a haircut.

Mike can have black nail polish and wear dresses and have long hair and swoon when he sees Will's big muscles and be carried bridal style out of his so-called abusive household by his gun-toting badass boyfriend, but when others try to post about Will being girly, we're the ones stereotyping.

So, all this to say, Will Wheeler.

will wheeler sounds odd tho

I'm less concerned about how it sounds and more interested in Will shedding the last name of his abusive-absentee father and taking the name of the man that he loves.

#free ted wheeler from the shackles of fandom interpretation

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damiano-mylove · 4 years ago

Text

How you met them and what dating the members of Måneskin would be like

GN!reader, slight NSFW for Damiano *Masterlist*

Vic

You'd definitely meet Vic at the grocery store

She goes grocery shopping every Saturday at 10 am, and you don't know that because you're creepy, you know that because you do as well (being an adult and such)

Over time, you'd both start to notice seeing each other at the same times and places

Vic would eventually come over, after having traded more than a dozen looks with you

At first, she would give you a random complement (that made your heart soar for reasons unbeknownst to you at the time), and you would immediately compliment her back because there are so many things to complement about the unknown girl at the shops

Those random complements would soon turn into full blown conversations that you both looked forward to, every Saturday at 10 am

Conversations turned into doing your grocery shopping together

Vic would ask you to lunch after one of your grocery shopping adventures, which you gladly accepted given the beautiful woman had stolen your heart at first glance

Lunch would go absolutely swimmingly, and it became the new thing

Your relationship with Vic would evolve from doing your grocery shopping together, then having lunch, to basically spending every Saturday together, then seeing each other other days of the week

One night, having drinks at Vic's place, just the two of you, Vic would join your lips together in a sweet harmony that felt all too right

You brushed off the night as drunken kissing

But she held you hand at lunch that following Saturday, and asked to kiss you before you parted ways

The conversation was bound to happen, and it did. After that, you and Vic were officially an item

She introduced you to her friends, and you did the same - your group loving Vic, and her's loving you

Dating Vic would be full of gentle love bites on your tender neck, fruity red wine, painting your nails matching colours, and late nights

On those late nights, Vic would hold you close, a film playing softly in the back, while her attention laid on you

You, her person, her rock. You made Vic's heart go ablaze and she wouldn't trade you for the world

Nor would you for her

Thomas

Thomas gives off strong Boy-Next-Door vibes

One day, your interest was sparked by moving vans outside your window - someone was moving into the flat above you

It was a very loud day (furniture scraping the floors, heavy boxes being dropped, many feet with much too heavy footsteps) but you were baking

You had a function to attend to the following day, so your day was already planned as a day for baking your famous biscuits that literally everyone loved

Ingredients may have a price tag, but kindness does not. Once all the noise subsided, you brought a plate of cookies up to your new neighbour (hoping to at least buy their friendship so they wouldn't annoy you constantly)

When Thomas opened the door, your stomach immediately turned to static

He looked a little tired, no doubt from freshly moving in, but his beauty was still breathtaking

Thomas smiled at you sweetly and thanked you profusely for the biscuits - he told you about how his grandmother made the same type and he loved them

The next day, right after you'd come back from your function, Thomas brought you back the plate with a bashful smile - 'The biscuits were divine, better than grandmama's'

You giggled at his statement, then invited him in for tea and to finish off the biscuits that were "left over" (you'd actually saved them for yourself, but there was no one else you'd rather share them with)

Happily for the both of you, Thomas accepted the invitation, and he stayed in your flat, drinking tea with you and eating biscuits, till the wee hours of the next day

You and Thomas shared smiles from your balconies and the street below, but when you'd be walking the stairs together, it always turned into an invitation for a drink, or to watch a game, or just a chat

About a month and a half of friendship, Thomas asked you to the cinema

You gladly went with him

In the middle of the film, your hands bumped together, both reaching for the popcorn on your lap - resulting in heated faces and looking away

Thomas walked you back to your flat that night, leaving you with a kiss on the cheek and legs made of jelly

That next day, Thomas asked you to dinner

'Is this a date or just a hang out?'

'It can be whatever you'd like.'

To no one's surprise, you chose the former option

You never officially confirmed your dating status, but you'd figure Thomas introducing you to his family as his partner was confirmation enough

Dating Thomas would include him singing you mellow songs in the evenings, longing glances shared across rooms, lots of tea at all hours of the day, and extremely stupid jokes that turned sickeningly sweet

Those jokes would occupy your mind for days on end, cherishing every single joke shared

Ethan

As cliche as it sounds, you'd meet in a bar

There was a game on between Lazio and Milan - and you both were dragged there by your friends

People clamored around the bar and television screens, screaming and yelling, and everyone decked out in jerseys (the Lazio jerseys outnumbered the Milan jerseys 3:1)

Funnily enough, you met Ethan in the corridor for the toilets

'With a line this long, I might as well piss outside'

For a first impression, Ethan really did make an impression. One that made you laugh and his cheeks tint red at the knowledge that someone heard him say that

It sparked a conversation while you both waited in the long lines

You discovered that neither of you held too much of a love of football, which absolutely tickled you that someone was in the same boat as you

Ethan waited outside the washroom for you, then suggested you both go outside for a smoke

With a drunken smile (the only way to get through a football match is to drink, lets be real), you agreed and told the friends you came with where you'd be disappearing to

Outside, you and Ethan shared three fags each and lots of laughter and conversation

Surprisingly to Ethan's friends, when everyone came pouring out of the bar after the game finished, Ethan had you pressed against the wall in a heated kiss

While being the most shy member of the band, Ethan reacted the most prominently to liquid courage, which you were more than okay with

You traded information, and the next day, you woke up to a sweet text from Ethan, asking you to a cafe to get to know each other in a sober environment

No complaints, you went

Ethan was just as funny as he was last night, and neither of you stopped smiling the entire time you were together

You saw each other quite often after that; sharing the occasional kiss, but full of laughter and stupid faces in silent moments

Eventually, you got brave and asked for Ethan to be your boyfriend

His face and ears went bright red, and he immediately looked to his slender fingers, chuckling nervously - but he happily agreed

Dating Ethan would include a hell of a lot of cuddles, lots of reassurance, few kisses but very meaningful kisses, and more laughter than you've ever shared with anyone else

Ethan will make you one of the happiest people on Earth, and in exchange, he is the happiest, just to have you in his arms in the mornings (even if you drool on him in your sleep)

Damiano

Without a doubt, you'd meet Damiano at a bar

There wouldn't be a game one, it was just a Friday night, and you felt like cutting loose with your idiot friends, whom you very much loved

Damiano would spot you immediately

You, of course, had already spotted him, but your friends were drooling over him, and every single person in the bar was as well, so you just put him out of your mind

That is, until he swaggered right up to you while you were grabbing drinks for your friends who were all on the dance floor

His expensive scent intoxicated you better than any booze behind the bar, making your skin tingle immediately. Damiano radiated heat, but that could've just been how warm it was in the bar from all the people

As the bartender was mixing your drinks, Damiano asked you your name

'A beautiful name for a beautiful person'

You thought he was just looking for a one-night stand, which you were actually quite down for

However, the night was still young, and you still had drinks to deliver to your friends, so you thanked him for the compliment and sauntered off to your friends with the drinks in hand

They called you a myriad of names for you basically turning Damiano down to do what? To dance with people you'd known for years?

Fortunately, walking off hadn't deterred Damiano

His eyes were on you for the entire night, until you built enough nerve to approach him

It didn't take too long for him to offer to bring you back to his place - you didn't need more than a second to accept

That night didn't lead to sex, however. Damiano thought you to be drunk to give him any meaningful consent, so he just left you to sleep in his bed, while he took the couch

When you woke up, you wrote your number with the lipstick in your purse on his bathroom mirror, and you left without a sound to wake him up

He called you that same day and invited you to the bar again

The entire weekend was spent going to the bar, sleeping either with or at Damiano's, which suited you just fine

Unfortunately, you had an actual job that required you to go to work, so when he invited you out on Sunday, you had to decline, then again on Monday

Tuesday, however, you invited him to your place for a couple drinks and you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder on the couch

Damiano woke up with you for your job and stayed with you as you got ready that morning, smiling at you through the mirror of your bathroom

Soon enough, your nightly encounters turned into real dates that changed location and theme constantly

Damiano was spontaneous and you loved it

He'd call you the cutest pet names under the sun, and bring you everywhere you were willing to go with him

Damiano never called you his partner; you were his lover

When you'd be alone, he always referred to you as 'Y/n, the light of my life, the only flower in my field, the cream in my jeans'

Made you blush like mad, but that was Damiano's favourite part

Dating Damiano would include doing each other's eyeliner, lots of PDA, reading side by side on the couch with a record playing softly, never falling asleep alone

Sleeping beside Damiano was like sleeping next to a furnace, so blankets were never needed, but cuddling was required

if it sucks, y’all gotta tell me😩🙏

for @fairyth0rns , i hope you like it

#måneskin #maneskin #damiano david x reader #damiano #damiano maneskin #victoria di angelis x reader #victoria di angelis #victoria maneskin #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #damiano david #thomas maneskin #ethan torchio #ethan torchio x reader #ethan maneskin #x reader #fanfic

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quindolyn · 4 years ago

Note

hi hi i have a req- remus and/or sirius where the reader has like bigger boobs w like stretch marks and stuff (bc theyre natural!!) and shes insecure ab them so the boy(s) make her feel better

Stripes || Wolfstar

A/N: I am not particularly fond of this piece all that much but it is what it is. I tried not to mention breast size too much because I know not everyone has big tits and I want as many people as possible to resonate with my work. Tits of all shapes and sizes can have stretch marks, they are completely natural and beautiful.

Warnings: smoking, it's not too too smutty I'd call it more fluffy smut, tit sucking, mentions of love bites, all acts are consensual and there is an established safe word

Word Count: 1,928

“We could go again,” Sirius offers as he lights his cigarette, leaning up against the headboard, guiding the fag to his lips he inhales deeply and you can’t help but be mesmerized as you watch his lips wrap around it.

Pink and soft, they're swollen from the night's previous activities, thinking about how they got that way sends a shiver down your spine, do yours look the same? Exhaling, you watch the smoke curl out his nose before dissipating into the air.

“Don’t know Pads, you think you could get it up again?” Remus stretches to reach his wand on the bedside table quickly and silently spelling you all clean.

Grey eyes flash with annoyance as he lifts the cigarette back up to his lips, though you must’ve watched him smoke hundreds of times you still can’t manage to tear your eyes away.

Maybe it's the way his fingers manipulate the small object as he plays with it absentmindedly that draws you in, the joints and muscles in his hand shifting under pale skin which looks almost as soft as it actually is.

Every now and again he’ll catch you staring at him, like now for example. His eyes flicker downwards finding your optics already fixed on him, “You want a hit Princess?” He raises his eyebrow, gesturing with the hand holding the smoke.

You nod your head, it’s not every day you’re included in their little smoke breaks post coitus, “Please.”

“Please,” Sirius mocks you as he leans down to hold the cigarette to your lips. You barely have the chance to taste the tobacco before it's being pulled away, this time to your right where Remus takes his time enjoying his smoke.

You can’t help but whine as it departs your lips and you’re met by the shit eating grin on Sirius’ face, clearly taking pleasure in teasing you so mercilessly.

“No whining Princess, smoking isn’t good for pretty girls is it?” Letting his hand cup the side of your face his thumb runs along the soft cushion of your bottom lip, applying just enough pressure to tease you.

In your peripheral vision you catch the cig being handed over your head, exchanging between the two boys as you nod your head once more.

“Good girl,” He coos, before taking another hit.

As the smoke leaves his nostrils he’s dipping down to find your lips. He tastes of smoke and something about it coming from his lips makes it all the more sweet, it’s probably better than the real thing.

It’s intensified as his tongue delves into your mouth, you can practically feel the smoke in your lungs, you’ve never been a match for him and simply let your tongue be manipulated by his before he pulls back, connecting the two of you with a strand of saliva that when it breaks falls onto the side of your face.

“Messy girl,” He murmurs, smug smirk on his lips, as he wipes away the mess, in reality his efforts only work to smear the spit on your cheek rather than clean it up.

“So what do you think baby?” Remus asks, sitting up and pulling you with him so you’re both upright, “You wanna try and go again?”

“I don’t know Rem, you think Siri can get it back up or is my wrist gonna cramp trying to get him hard?”

“You two are cruel,” No matter how hard he tries to hide it you can see the slight smile pulling upwards at his lips, “You’re even hiding your titties from me, mean.”

He gestures towards your chest, he’s right, you’d subconsciously clutched the sheet to your chest, crossing your arms to keep it in place and your breasts covered.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the realization dawns upon you, it wasn’t that you were intentionally guarding them from either boy but you realize that that is how it looks.

“No it's not that Siri I just, I usually keep them covered. They’re… they’re… “ You stumble over your words, only increasing your embarrassment.

“They’re what puppy?” Remus asks, lightly brushing your hair behind your ear so that he has access to your temple, smearing his lips across the soft skin.

“I don’t know,” As you grow shy your voice drops to a mere mumble, “They’ve got all sorts of marks on them.”

This proves worrisome enough for Sirius to set down his fag, letting it sit in the ashtray on the nightstand.

“You mean stretch marks Princess?”

You try your best not to cringe at those words, stretch marks. It's not a dirty word, somewhere inside you, you know that but that has never stopped you from being insecure by them. Deliberately choosing tops that side the ones that sprout from the tops, near your under arm before traveling down the curvature of your tit. Making sure your lingerie always has some sort of extra covering where they’re most visible.

You feel Remus’ hold on you tighten from behind at your pained silence, it's telling enough.

“Just don’t like them.”

Your words have Sirius climbing closer to you, throwing your legs around his hips so the two of you can sit face to face while Remus holds you from behind.

“May we see them, Puppy?” Remus’ elegant fingertips dance along the top of the sheet which resides just a few inches below your collarbone. You shiver at his dainty touch, his fingers are light as feathers, slowly coaxing you into trusting them with this.

“It’s okay,” Sirius’ hand delicately grasps your knee over the soft sheet, “Wanna see our pretty girls but it's alright if you need a moment puppy.”

“No, s’okay.”

Sirius gives you a small smile that only grows as you drop the sheet, letting it pool at your waist.

He spares you a glance before slowly extending his arm, giving you time to tell him to stop or pull the sheet back up, and even though you want to do both those things and more you love Siri. You love Rem. And you know that they’ll be gentle and patient with you.

So instead you steel yourself for his touch relaxing as you feel Remus’ sizable hands wrap around your waist, resting on your tummy.

Your shoulders bunch back up as the tips of Sirius’ fingers, nails having been painted black just a few hours ago. His touch is steady as he finds a particularly predominant mark tracing along the curve of your tit.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous (Y/N), can’t believe I get to touch you.”

“You’re silly Siri.”

“Not silly, you’re just fucking breathtaking. You got the nicest tits.”

“Just all marked up,” You shrug your shoulders, Remus takes the opportunity to smooth his chapped lips along your joint.

“No,” Remus contradicts, “They’re marked up when we sink our teeth into them and leave pretty bruises all over them,” His hands travel from your waist to explore your tit before stopping on the top of your left one where he remembers having sucked rather fervently just an hour before, “Like right here.”

His pressing down on the flesh pulls a squeak from you as a shock of pain shoots up your spine, leaving your body tingly and the specific spot where his fingers rest pulsing.

“These,” He continues, dragging his fingers over the small indents in your skin, “Are your stripes.”

Sirius leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth as his hands go to support the weight of your breast. The angle’s a bit awkward but it seems to do little, if anything, to discourage him.

Gently capturing your nipple with his teeth he sucks harder, nuzzling at your chest as he does so. The pleasure that you derive from such a simple act has your head falling back onto the solidity of Remus’ shoulder, pulling whimpers from your throat as you jutt your chest out.

“So fucking good,” Sirius growls as he regretably lets go of your titty, “Pretty nipples,” He accentuates his point by twisting them each between his fingers, “Pretty stripes.”

Leaning down he drags his tongue along one of your stretch marks, beginning in the valley between your breasts before extending upwards.

“They’re completely natural, Puppy,” Remus’ voice is subdued as he runs his hands up and down your waist, “Lots of people have them on their tits, Siri and I have them in other places too.”

“S different on you , Remmy,” You try to explain, “You two are perfect.”

“Does it bother you when we see them during sex baby?” He asks with genuine curiosity in his voice, the thought of making you uncomfortable when you’re so open and vulnerable leaving his stomach twisting.

“Not always, no,” He remains silent, urging you to continue, “You make me feel beautiful Rem, both of you, I just can’t help but not like them, don’t like the way they look, or the way they feel.”

You hear him suck in a deep breath and you can practically hear the gears in his mind turning as he contemplates just what to say.

His hands move to hold both sides of your face in his palms as his forehead falls to rest against yours.

“Let us show you how beautiful your tits are, will you let us do that?”

“You don’t have to-”

Sirius cuts you off, releasing your tit from his mouth, “We want to (Y/N), let us,” He dips his head back down, delicately kissing the top of one of your breasts, “Please.”

He murmurs the simple, one syllable, word against your skin, the sensation sending shivers through your body. He rolls your hardened nipples between his fingers, it's nearly enough to have you mewling as you kneel at his feet. Maybe another time.

Before you can register what’s happening, strong hands are softly pushing you back so that you’re laying down on the bed.

You feel the steady weight of your breasts bouncing on your chest before they’re being grasped by hands that just by touch you recognize as Remus’. His thumbs run along the insides of your breasts where more faded lines reside, creating swirling patterns that Remus seems to thoroughly enjoy.

“You know why you got these right?” Sirius questions, raising his brow.

You shake your head.

“Because you got big fucking tits Princess, look at them!” Smoothly he replaces Remus’ hands with his own, letting their weight settle in his hands, “Bigger than my hands, bigger than Rem’s, they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He drops onto his bum as he reaches over you to pick up his fag, raising it to his lips as his eyes fixate on your bare tits, a wicked smirk on his lips. Instead of feeling uncomfortable under his eyes the feeling is something equivalent to the sun’s rays shining on you, warming you all the way down to your core.

You can’t help but smile at the sincerity in his voice, the absolution with which he speaks pulling at your heart strings. How did you get so lucky as to deserve his love? Though he’s not as chatty you know Remus believes every word out of Sirius’ mouth, tenderly he takes your hand in his, absentmindedly playing with your fingers while your two hands rest in his lap.

“It’s just hard to believe you guys sometimes, m’your girlfriend, you gotta be nice to me.”

Gently Remus guides your hand to his crotch, you’re met by his aching cock which you’re just now realizing is standing fully erect, aching, weeping red tip smearing precum against his lean belly.

“Believe us now?”

tag list: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @dracofknmalfoy @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @gubleryum @advictedtohim @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter @priii @miraclesoflove @shadesofvelma @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @jamespotterslover @lolooo22 @adrianscumslut @jeannelupinblack @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @remugoodgirl @planet-wolfstar @saintlike78 @i-love-scott-mccall @cedricisnotdead @pretty-pop-princess-hs @sunshinexweasley @saggyb1lls @trashyvicks @sprucewoodlover @slut4drvc0 @1-800-amortentia

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cosmicseafoam · 11 months ago

Text

okay okay fuck uh

Humiliation/degradation. there will be the f-slur in here, but it's loving. Name and pronouns change as this progresses.

I'm putting it under a read more bc part of my little fag heart worries this is too much haha

I imagine that when Aeon and Aurora are summoned, they're twins! So exciting to have two new girls in the den.

Aurora is super bubbly, of course. and Aeon is very shy, very reserved, doesn't want to speak much. Looks upset when draped in a pink summoning blanket while Aurora gets purple but everybody just shrugs it off.

Ifrit comes into the ghoul den the next day to be so annoying as per usual, but sees pretty little Aeon sitting there, chewing on her lip anxiously as Aurora forces her to sit there and get her nails painted.

When aurora goes off to grab something, Ifrit pounces. Can tell from the look in Aeons eyes how uncomfortable she is. Recognizes it from how he was before his own transition. He sidles up behind Aeon who is shaking in the chair, leans in to her ear and whispers "Whats a pretty boy like you doing here?" He can see Aeons whole body tense. "I-I'm not a b-" "No? Sorry, you're right. You're not a boy, you're a man. Aren't you? Aren't you so tired of hiding it? Aren't you tired of being soft?" Aeon tries to hold back a whimper as Aurora makes her way back through the door. "Hey, Rora? You mind if I steal this one? I wanna show 'em some guitar stuff?" Aurora grumbles out a response but Ifrit is already dragging Aeon back through the door.

Hanging out with Ifrit becomes a habit. Aeon is mesmerized by the shape of him. So strong, so buff. It starts out tame, Ifrit peeling the little shirt off of Aeons body, dressing them in his oversized tshirts. Tucking their long hair into a cap to hide it. Taking Aeon out on errands in the public town and watching their face light up when someone calls them "sir". Takes note when he notices that Aeon starts wearing their hair tucked up in a cap all around the abbey.

Wrestling in the den when it's just the two of them, Aeon trying their hardest to overpower Ifrit and losing. every. single. time. Ifrit straddling Aeons hips, pinning their arms above their head. "God you're a fucking weak little boy aren't you. You could be so much stronger. Let me make you strong. You deserve to be a strong man." A whimper escapes Aeons mouth with no way for them to stop it. Ifrit looks down to where they're connected, can feel the wetness in their crotch "Are you... are you hard right now? Holy shit you are, you..." Aeon tries to cut it but Ifrit doesn't give him the time "don't deny it anymore. You're a faggot aren't you? I knew it. You can wear those little dresses Aurora puts you in all you want but it doesn't change the fact that you're a man." Ifrit comforts him as he cries.

Stripping them both off in front of the mirror, comparing their bodies. "Who are you trying to hide from, dude? You think the others can't see it? Your attempts at femininity are shallow at best and they can all see through it. You don't have to beg like a dog for things you want in the silence of your room. You're a man, so be a man"

The first time Ifrit gets Phantom face down in his bed, they both see stars. Phantom whimpering and moaning as Ifrit fucks into his cunt with his strap. Can't stop the moan that comes out of him when Ifrit leans in to whisper "Look at you, so handsome. Taking my dick like the fag you are." He goes wide eyed and has the breath knocked out of him when Ifrit grabs him by the ponytail, pushing his face further into the bed as he takes his scissors and cuts his hair off. Phantom stills as Ifrit flashes him the ponytail before throwing it onto the floor. "Look at you, baby, look so good with your short hair. Doesn't that feel better? You don't have to hide the man you are anymore"

Ifrit stripping Phantom of his clothes every morning, laying him down and rubbing tgel into the soft meat of his thighs. Cooing to him, telling him what a good boy he is. Continuing up to spread open his cunt and check on his tdick growth. Sucks him off to get him hard, teaches him how to jack off like real men do.

Stripping him off in front of the mirror again, comparing their bodies, again. Running fingers across the muscles building up on Phantoms arms and across the scars healing on his chest, kissing along his squared up jaw, running a hand down the hair growing on phantoms chest and stomach, all the way down to where his dick peeks out from his cunt.

"Don't you think it's funny how no one questioned it for even a moment? They all knew what you are, a faggot at heart. Doesn't it feel good to see the you that you created? That you always knew you could be?"

i'm having ifrit forcemascing phantom ghoul thoughts again

#larsposting #shitghosting #lars writes #ifrit ghoul #phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #force masc

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magniloquent-raven · 4 years ago

Text

(pt1 here)

billy grew up afraid of finding his soulmate.

when he was eight his father caught him trying to wash nail polish off with soap and a hand towel.

he’d heard girls at school saying it was what you did when your soulmate was a boy. you were supposed to paint yourself up all pretty and find the person who matched. and it was easy enough to sneak into the vanity and steal a bottle of his mother’s nail polish. but once the paint dried he realized it would be impossible to hide from his father, and he panicked.

his mother showed him the bottle of nail polish remover after neil left. dabbed some on a cotton ball to rub at the thick layer of paint. she was silent, kneeling on the floor in front of him cradling his sprained wrist while he sat on the edge of the tub and cried.

they both had questions, but neither of them got answers.

it took billy months to work up the courage to try again.

he wasn’t sure why he was bothering, at first. he knew he couldn’t look for his soulmate the traditional way. and he was constantly terrified that his father would find the supplies he’d started hoarding. it seemed like more risk than reward, and yet. he couldn’t stop himself.

every time he was allowed to wander off in a store alone he’d slip something into his pocket. a tube of lip gloss. a compact full of shiny powders. he wasn’t even sure what some of it was, he just liked the colours. liked the pictures they hung alongside the displays. he wanted to look like that. beautiful.

and in his heart of hearts, he wanted the boy who was out there waiting for him to know he existed. whether they’d be able to find each other or not.

he’s more careful with this than he was with the nail polish. his father works saturday nights, and his mother always visits their neighbour while he’s at work. despite having the house to himself he locks his bedroom door.

the first thing he tries is the watermelon lip gloss. it’s sticky, and the wand doesn’t fit in his hand comfortably, but once he’s smeared it on he feels...good. he likes the way it catches the light. likes the way it smells. he looks at himself in the mirror and likes seeing something different.

the high doesn’t last long, it inevitably gives way to paranoia, anxiety that has him glancing at the locked door every thirty seconds, heart pounding, wondering if just maybe his father will get home from work early, and he jumps at every sound, hearing boots thudding on the porch and car doors slamming and anything that could be neil coming through the door.

cleaning himself up is hard. panic makes his hands shake, his eyes well up. he drops everything on the floor when he tries to tuck the bag away. and he has to spend twenty minutes with his back to his bedroom door getting his breathing under control when he’s finished.

but he does it again the following saturday. and the one after that.

for five months he does this. locks himself away with his stolen treasures and lets himself live a little. it gets easier as time goes on. and his mind wanders sometimes. to a future where he gets to share this with someone. the boy out there who’s supposed to love him one day.

it’s a small bubble of a dream. one he doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on. not when there’s neil’s voice in his head, telling him that no one could love a fucking freak, ‘cause fags don’t get real soulmates anyways.

he wants and he wishes, but the more he thinks about it the more he doubts. he’s never gotten a mark from his soulmate, and even if he did some day, what if his father’s right, and his “soulmate” doesn’t want him or makes him miserable or...worse.

so he does his makeup for himself.

until, like all good things in his life, his father ruins it.

he never found out what set neil off initially, something going wrong at work maybe, or the martial strife of the week getting to him. whatever it was that started it, neil eventually decided billy should bear the brunt of the fallout.

so he went through his things. said billy’d been acting cagey lately, and he was going to find out why.

and then found the makeup bag stuffed into an old sweater in his closet.

it was ugly. the things neil said that day would play on repeat in billy’s head for years afterwards. the scars his belt left on billy’s back were nothing in comparison.

the next saturday came and went. billy spent the evening curled up under a blanket not bothering to wipe away the tears dripping down his face.

by morning he’s resolved to forget the whole thing. to put it behind him. because it was stupid, and risky and childish and maybe his father was right. he’s almost convinced himself. and then he notices ink on his arm, as he reaches up to rub his eyes. messy scrawl, i bet you looked pretty crookedly written up his forearm.

he didn’t think he was able to cry any more, but he manages it.

for the first time his soulmate isn’t just a concept, or a what-if, he’s...a person. he’s a real person out there somewhere. someone who doesn’t even know billy and still wanted to reach out, to offer comfort. it’s more than he’s gotten from anyone else. even his mother. who he knows loves him, and she does her best to protect him, but when she found out about his makeup stash she just looked sad, and she’s said nothing to him about it.

but his soulmate…

can never, ever meet neil.

the thought hits him right in the chest.

whoever he is, he cares, he’s good. and neil breaks good things.

billy falls asleep that night tracing the empty space where his soulmate’s message used to be, wrapped up in worries and dreams, and terrified for someone he’s never met.

the doodles that come and go over the years are terrifying and exhilarating and billy manages to hide every single one from his father. they only ever show up during the day, and they don’t linger. something billy is both grateful for and resentful of.

sometimes he’ll watch other boys’ hands in class. check them for drawings. he thinks he’s being careful, but a girl in his chem class, becca, catches him. she says it’s only because she knew what to look for. they share a cigarette under the bleachers and she tells him about a girl who likes green eyeshadow and writes homework reminders on her wrists using stars instead of bullet points.

it takes billy six months and a couple shots of tequila to tell her about watermelon lip gloss and bet you’re pretty and they both cry when he starts to wonder if his soulmate will be disappointed that he isn’t a girl.

on a rainy april afternoon she asks him to go to a gay bar with her. he tells his father he’s going on a date. she tells her’s that she had to reschedule a tutoring session and it’ll run pretty late.

they wait til it’s dark and get ready in a dingy gas station bathroom. when she’s smearing on her eyeliner she catches sight of his face in the cloudy mirror. he wasn’t going to ask her for anything. he wouldn’t have brought it up. the twinge in his heart and a hollow feeling of longing aren’t anything new, he can deal.

he feels and empty kind of rage every time old, well-meaning relatives give max girly lip gloss kits and eyeshadow pallets and shit normal preteen girls who care about finding their soulmates actually appreciate. she always rolls her eyes and throws them away. susan will fish them out of the trash sometimes, and leave them under the bathroom sink, like if max just sees them there she’ll suddenly give a shit and start using them. like them being there does anything but taunt billy with what he can’t have.

neil watches him like a fucking hawk every time that shit comes into the house. and max doesn’t fucking care. doesn’t notice.

but becca offers.

and.

he’s not about to say no.

he should’ve said no.

it feels good at first, like it used to, it feels like freedom and he likes what he sees when he looks in the mirror, and he kisses a boy for the first time and it isn’t fireworks but it’s something, and he thinks maybe it’s going to be a good night, but then…

neil is waiting on the curb outside becca’s house. they were heading there first, because her parents wouldn’t notice, she said it would be fine, she has makeup remover he can use, he can clean up and head home and everything was supposed to be okay, except. it wasn’t.

it’s the last time he sees becca. neil tells her parents what was actually going on, and she isn’t allowed to visit him in the hospital.

and then six months of rehab, one rushed wedding and a big ugly sold sign later, neil carts them off to hawkins, indi-fucking-ana. as a “family.”

billy was certain this town would be nothing but a prison. it’d be somewhere he’d never find a place to be himself, neil would make sure of that. there wasn’t a single thing to like about this place and its bullshit small town sensibilities. for all the open space it might as well have been stone walls and steel bars.

except.

except...here was a boy with soft eyes and nimble fingers, who gets a little wrinkle between his brows when he concentrates, and is always moving, fidgeting, fiddling with zippers and touching his elbows and looking at him makes billy itch. to touch, to soothe, to take, and…

things get complicated when aimless blue waves scrawl up billy’s arm. when steve follows him out into the parking lot. calls him pretty to his face. and suddenly billy’s eight years old and realizing this shit is real. terrified of what that could mean. spinning fragile dreams like spider’s silk, hard to shake but easy to destroy.

even entertaining the idea of putting on makeup while he’s still in hawkins is stupid and dangerous, but goddamn if he hasn’t risked more for less.

he’s sure he’ll regret it. like he’s regretted every other desperate bid for freedom. but when faced with steve harrington’s smile, he can’t find it in himself to say no.

(edit: pt3 here)

#harringrove ficlet #harringrove #billy hargrove #stranger things #soulmate au #a raven's writing desk #another part is coming #cuuuz #this was getting way too long kdfljgk #i had to split it up cuz the other stuff i wanted to write is. definitely just gonna be a whole nother post to itself lol

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hartigays · 4 years ago

Note

Rafebarry Prompt for you! So what about some of Barry’s pals being over at the trailer and they’re all just like “Damn Bro” at seeing Rafe (who’s just living his best chaotic life, being Barry’s housewife/partner in crime) and Barry’s just all smug about it like “Yeah. I’m hittin’ that. Be jealous.”

tw: mature themes (drug use, sexual implications) and some homophobic language (just a comment from some loser tho)

rafe’s bike tears through swampy grass and dirt with a vengeance as he pulls into barry’s front yard, leaving tire marks in his wake.

when he pulls off his helmet, the first thing he sees are people spilling in and out of the trailer. people rafe doesn’t recognize - some of them attractive, even.

which is… infuriating, to put it lightly.

barry clearly hadn’t felt the need to keep rafe in the loop, inviting him over without informing him that half of the cut would be in attendance as well.

like, seriously, what the fuck? rafe had thought - well. he’d intended to come here to pick up some blow, and maybe, possibly, perhaps let barry have his way with him while he’s at it.

barry can’t have his way with him if half the population of north carolina is stacked up inside the trailer. and that’s just. frustrating.

rafe kind of wants to drive his bike straight through the trailer, mowing some partygoers down and end this whole shebang right here and now. but, as barry has made explicitly clear time and time again, rafe is Not Allowed to harm and/or kill people on his property.

it’s sometimes irritating, this whole thing they’ve started. this casual fling that’s maybe not-so-casual anymore considering rafe agreed to be exclusive with barry not even two days ago.

there are just. so many rules, like no maiming, or killing, or… actually, that’s about it. but that’s two rules too many. rafe doesn’t like rules, or being told what he can or can’t do.

barry is just lucky rafe likes him. kind of. sort of. somewhat.

otherwise, barry would be drifting along the bottom of the ocean somewhere, flesh being nibbled away at by fish and sharks and the like.

rafe flings his helmet towards his bike, not bothering to see if it landed anywhere convenient, before storming across the yard and shoving himself through a cluster of people to get inside the trailer.

barry is sitting on the couch, all sorts of people surrounding him, looking like he’s already fucked up beyond belief.

which is also annoying, because he was supposed to get fucked up beyond belief with rafe, then mandhandle rafe into bed to have his wicked way with him. like always.

“ayy, country club!” barry practically shouts over the noice, his accent even thicker and more drawn out than usual. “you made it!”

“yeah, barry, i made it,” rafe snaps, then sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

look, he’s not against parties or anything. actually, he’s quite in favor of them. he just… did not plan for his day to go like this.

rafe wanted barry’s full attention, which is now virtually impossible given the amount of bodies that are currently filling the room.

barry just looks at rafe with glazed eyes, leaning back casually against the couch cushions. “aw, don’t you go pouting on me ‘n shit, rafe cameron. ain’t you always down for a party or some shit like that?”

“a little heads up would’ve been nice,” rafe tells him, his temper rearing it’s ugly head again and bleeding into his voice. “look, can i just get my shit so i can get out of here?”

rafe moves around the coffee table, elbowing a few drunk idiots out of his way as he does. barry eyes him as he comes closer, before suddenly swinging one arm out and wrapping it around rafe’s waist. he ropes rafe in close enough that rafe stumbles a bit over barry’s feet, sprawling right into his lap.

“see, ain’t that more like it, country club?” barry purrs, his lips pressed against rafe’s ear.

rafe feels a shiver rocket down his spine, but also a flare of anxiety.

barry is certainly fucked up beyond comprehension, and they haven’t exactly talked about making their relationship public. rafe has no idea if this is something barry will regret in the morning and end up cutting rafe off.

but to be fair, if barry did wake up and decide to tell rafe to fuck off, rafe would probably just kill him. he might just kill him anyway, just because he feels like it.

and since barry’s inevitable death is hurtling towards them at breakneck speed, rafe might as well enjoy barry’s final moments while he can.

so he lets barry kiss him, full on the mouth, on display for the hundred or so other people milling about the room.

rafe, regrettably, makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat when he feels barry’s tongue dip into his mouth, sweeping across his own.

regrettably, because some fucking weird ass next to barry leans in close to watch. rafe can see the movement out of the corner of his eye.

but barry isn’t deterred. he might be a little encouraged, even, because he deepens the kiss even more, pressing in so close that rafe feels like they could crawl inside of each other and form one cohesive nightmare of a person.

“ain’t peg you for a fag, barry,” the guy comments, his words slurring. he burps after he speaks, and barry detaches his lips from rafe to look over at the source of the noise.

“the fuck you just say to me?” barry snaps, digging his fingers into rafe’s hips to keep him in place when rafe moves to get up, ready to just slit this guy’s throat and be done with it. “ain’t you in my damn house, fuckass? who the fuck you think you’re talkin’ to?”

“hey, man, didn’t mean no offense,” the guy says, raising his hands in mock surrender before burping again. “jus’ askin’.”

“getcho’ dumbass out my house, bro,” barry tells him, removing one hand from rafe’s hips for only a moment, just to shove the guy out of his seat.

the still nameless man just shrugs, gulping down the remnants of his beer before getting up and disappearing into the crowd.

“i think you guys are cute,” a girl giggles from where she’s seated, across from the couch rafe and barry are currently planted on.

barry looks up at rafe, and it’s almost fond and god, that’s disgusting. rafe wants to soak himself in it, let it marinate until it’s deeply ingrained in every fiber of his being.

“sho’ are,” barry agrees with her, still looking up at rafe. he’s got one hand beneath rafe’s shirt now, nails raking over his back.

rafe shudders, wishing he could dissolve every person in this room right this very moment so he can curl up inside barry and make a home there.

“gotta say, ‘m a little jealous, man,” some other guy pipes up from barry’s other side.

rafe looks over at him, one brow arched, finding the guy staring right back as he hits some sort of pipe.

probably filled with meth, based on the state of the guy’s teeth.

classy.

“guess you just gon’ have to be jealous, then,” barry tosses back, not bothering to spare the guy a glance before returning his mouth to rafe’s.

the party comes and goes, faster than rafe anticipated, but that maybe can be attributed to the fact that barry keeps rafe glued to him at all times, practically devouring him every chance he can get, and showing him off to every person who happens to look their way.

rafe will admit, it’s a little satisfying, knowing how proud barry is to have staked his claim. he’s surprised that he’s so okay with barry being so possessive of him, too.

rafe cameron normally does not like the idea of being owned by anyone or anything. at least, he hadn’t up until now.

at this point, he’s pretty sure he’d let barry put a dog collar on him that reads property of barry the coke dealer, without complaint.

now, lounging in barry’s bed, sweat-soaked and panting, rafe sparks a blunt. he takes a long hit and passes it to barry.

“you did this on purpose,” rafe says, knowingly.

barry just grins up at the ceiling like a shark, shrugging as he hits the blunt.

“you’re pretty, rafe cameron. and you’re mine,” barry tells him, passing the weed back. “what’s it hurt to show off a little? you ain’t die or nothing.”

“never said it was a bad thing,” rafe snorts. “just maybe give me a little warning next time you plan to parade me around as your trophy wife.”

“like you ain’t get off on all them people talking ‘bout how jealous they are that i get to have you.”

barry has a point, rafe will admit. not out loud, mind you, but still. in the quiet of his mind, where no one else can hear, he agrees with barry wholeheartedly.

“can you blame them? i mean, look at me,” rafe says with a snooty little sniff, running a hand along his jaw. “you landed yourself a masterpiece. people are gonna notice.”

“you so damn full of yourself, country club,” barry snorts. “imma have to knock that ego down a peg. i been too nice to you.”

“says the guy whose ego grew ten times larger just by being a show-off about his boyfriend.”

barry rolls over onto his side, watching rafe hit the blunt with heavily-lidded eyes. “boyfriend, huh? ain’t we a bit old for that?”

“you literally called me your boyfriend like, fifty times today. do not even- ”

barry shuts him up mid-sentence by taking the blunt from rafe’s hand and putting it out on the ashtray next to the bed, tangling his fingers in rafe’s hair, and pulling him in for a kiss that’s all tongues and teeth.

rafe wanted to finish his sentence, had planned on finishing it, but barry doesn’t give him the chance. not with the way he’s kissing him right now.

within a matter of moments, rafe forgets what he was planning to say in the first place. but whatever, he’s fucking tired, barry feels good and smells good and tastes good. so what if he’s a trophy wife, so what if he may or may not get off on people being jealous that barry gets to date him. to own him.

it’s all arbitrary.

instead of figuring out what he was going to say, rafe breaks away from barry’s lips, fastening his mouth to barry’s neck and biting down.

his teeth sink in deep, and he hopes with everything he has left in him that it leaves a scar.

#rafebarry #outer banks #hope u enjoy!#my fics #ask #goodnightandbillyrobicheaux

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fvrxdrm · 4 years ago

Text

I Like the Way - NSFW (Jesse McCree x Reader) {Part 2}

Pairing: Jesse McCree x F!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW

Setting: Post-fall, a bit closer to the recall

*****

Jesse McCree kissing you out of nowhere was one thing that got you feeling so giddy, but having to kiss him with so much anticipation dripping was something you only got to experience in your fantasies.

It was a late summer night when you agreed to have a bit of a shut-eye and pulled over to the side of a road that wasn’t popular amongst the townsfolks. You were fagged out as fuck. But even though you felt like you would just pass out out of nowhere while driving through the empty roadways, you couldn’t fall asleep for some reason. It was like adrenaline was pumpin’ inside you and refused to give you a rest. Something’s bound to happen, you thought. If your body wouldn’t shut the fuck up then something had to happen. And so, there you laid, on the back of your pickup truck with McCree’s flesh and blood arm wrapped around your shoulders and your head resting on his chest.

Well, that was five minutes ago…

I would’ve said the same had you not been making out and literally tearing clothes off.

Jesse had you bare beneath him, vulnerable and quivering at the nip of the biting air. A bright shade of red crept across your cheeks and you couldn’t but smile coyly at the intense stare McCree didn’t even make an effort to hide. “Yer so fuckin’ gorgeous, darlin’,” he candidly whispered, his accent appearing more blatant. Your cheeks burned a bit too much.

You stuttered out, “y-you don’t look so bad yourself.” McCree chuckled at your response but stopped when he felt a cool gush of wind kissing his thick ass cheeks.

“Well,” he grunted, “I ain’t lettin’ that cute li’l butt of yers freeze over.” You chortled at his words as you watched him bury you both in a thick blanket you had stolen from a motel a few towns away from where you were.

“Mmm…you can always warm me up, cowboy,” you said with what you hoped was a seductive and sultry voice – which seemed to work since you saw him turn into a tomato himself - and winked. Jesse shook his head to bring himself out of his daze and cleared his throat before he spoke, his voice dropping a few octaves lower.

“Oh, pumpkin, I ain’t passin’ up on such opportunity,” and without any other words, he began planting kisses on your cheek, lips slithering down your jawline and neck where he pinned a tiny patch of your skin between pearly-white teeth and began nibbling and sucking on it as he got your breathy moans and needy hands by heart. He caught a small bead of perspiration with his tongue and licked it clean while his devil eyes held yours, tempting you with your own emotions.

“Fuck, you really know how to get a woman going, huh?”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

Jesse locked his lips with yours, not even hesitating to greet you with his tongue and letting your wet muscles dance in a smooth tango while the flesh surrounding them closed every now and then. All the while, his hands went on a journey of discovering parts of your body he wouldn’t even dare touch (unless you're really fucking drunk???), though tempting, when he still had no knowledge of what you exactly felt; whether it was merely romantic and fluffy or you had pitched in a spice of lust and ardor. He was a hungry man, packed to the gunnels with needs and wants, and he would like to take in as much of you as possible to stuff his head with such intimate moment until you pull up on the next stop.

You felt McCree’s cock glide deliciously against your sleek pussy, the tip prodding your clit. And before you could stop yourself, you broke away from the kiss and threw your head back with a high-pitched moan, your fingers grasping his biceps tightly as his name escaped your lips.

“You like that, huh?” His hips ground against yours again and you bit your lip to muffle out the sounds that protruded out of your mouth. “C’mon, baby girl, lemme hear those moans. God, you’re already so fuckin’ wet.” He repeated his actions a few more times before whispers of pleas invaded his right ear.

“Please, Jesse, show me…show me how you really feel about me.” Jesse raised his head from where it was nuzzled against your neck, looked down at you with the inner tips of his eyebrows tipped upwards for a moment, and leaned into your touch when your palm rested itself on his cheek and your thumb wiped a single tear that streamed down his face.

He felt like a child all of a sudden. He felt exposed. Nobody in his life had ever considered how he felt and asked him to be open about it, except for you. He was always known as this cocky, smug, and derpy cowboy who knew nothing but flirt around with his head held up high. He was known as this gunslinger who really knew his way around his revolver like how he knew every detail of the back of his hand and a somebody who liked to smoke a lot as a vice to keep himself occupied whenever he did nothing but stand around.

He was in Deadlock a certain amount of percentage of his life and hell, what do you expect from them? Blackwatch? That was just another gang, just with more rules. Faces there were always stoic and everybody barely had interactions unless they were talks about a mission or a job well-done or sometimes even the opposite of that. You and McCree seemed to be the only ones with the softest hearts and you instantly became as thick as thieves the moment you started talking about bad movies.

And though it may seem like it was smallest thing to cry about, his heart swelled with emotions and he silently thanked the gods for having you watch his back, and he yours.

“You’re only human, Jesse. You feel emotions just like me and I want you to show them. Show me how you really feel.” His eyelids pressed together like crumpled paper and he took a moment to press his forehead against yours and take everything you said in, his metal hand finding yours and holding on tightly as if it was the last thing he’ll ever grasp until the world ends. “I love you, McCree.” His breath shuddered.

He knew his words weren’t enough to express himself to you so he made a decision to just show it to you like how those cliché rom-coms always taught him. With his body pressed to yours with such intimate desire, he led his right hand towards his hardened dick and stroked himself a few times before he slowly pushed into you, the prosthetic that grasp your flesh pinning your hand beside your head.

“Jesse!”

You both groaned in the night, the stretch between your thighs sending electricity through your nerves and the velvety walls that surrounded McCree’s cock sending white noises to his brain. He laid on top of you for a moment to steady his breath intake before his hips started moving in a steady pace.

It was unusual for McCree to be that slow with his pacing. He was more of the pin-you-down-and-fuck-you-relentlessly-until-you-come-and-scream-his-name type (you’d already experienced this one time when you two got pissed out of your mind, though you couldn’t really remember it) and sometimes he would legit leave marks all over his partner’s skin to remind them of who fucked them like a god, but tonight, this didn’t seem to be his aim. His aim was different, so different, and it seemed like it was a result of something stirring inside of him. He silently begged to be closer to his partner, you, and he hadn’t done this before. He whispered so many sweet nothings in your ear and he looked as though he enjoyed your warmth. He was telling something, something beautiful and rare to him.

Jesse McCree was making love to you.

His thrusts weren’t as frantic as how they usually were but they were firm and you loved it. The thought of him opening up to you just like how you told him to made you arch your back and dig your nails on his skin, responding to his zephyr-like words with a few of your own until you felt a coil twisting in a gratifying discomfort. You bucked your hips up with the same manner as his own up to the time of the knot in your stomach snapping and your eyes being blinded with something white. The way your walls stuttered around him made him groan and he suddenly grew obsessed with you. And with a last vigorous snap of his hips, he came, growing limp on top of you and pressing a kiss on your sweaty skin.

“I love you, Jesse.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Jesse took a minute to retrieve all air that came out of his lungs and was about to get off of you when your phone suddenly started ringing. You looked at each other, puzzled as to who could’ve gotten your number and called you at such a late hour. You grabbed the buzzing device from the pocket of your shorts and took a glance at the screen to see an unknown number.

“Hello?” You carefully spoke after answering the phone and putting it on speaker. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in mended with its cooler counterpart once you heard the voice of a familiar friend.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s Winston!”

“Hey, monkey!” The cowboy yelled to your phone.

“Oh, hey, McCree. Good to hear you two have been going around together.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better to go around the world with your friend than alone, right?” You smiled.

“Correct. Anyway, I’m just gonna make this quick, I know it’s late there, but um… We’re reforming Overwatch again!” Your eyes widened in surprise and you looked at McCree to see his bulging out too. Overwatch? Starting over?

“Really?”

“Uhuh. Can’t wait to see you two! Oh, and don’t forget to remind me to walk Y/N down the aisle once you two got married. Bye!”

“Wait-“ You exclaimed but the sound of the call ending cut you off. You both were dead silent for a split second until Jesse started laughing out of nowhere.

“Well, we’re gettin’ the band back together.”

“Mhm, and we’re going back together too!”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’.”

#jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree #mccree x reader #mccree

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cardest · 4 years ago

Text

New Orleans playlist

Hungry for some po boys? Feeling the Mardi Gras vibes for this weekend? This is the ultimate NOLA playlist, right here. Play the songs here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC182dTlE-Gii6ZOO5ZrN1Z1T

Louisiana and New Orleans, all in the one awesome playlist. If there are songs I left out, let me know and I can add those. Or come meet me at Le Bon Temps Roulé and we’ll listen to this NOLA playlist together with drinks.

LOUISIANA & NEW ORLEANS

001 Bob James - Take Me To The Mardi Gras 002 Earl King - Ain’t no city like New Orleans 003 John Lee Hooker - goin’ to Louisiana 004 Crowbar - Wrath Of Time By Judgment 005 True Detective - Theme (The Handsome Family - Far From Any Road) 006 EyeHateGod - New Orleans Is The New Vietnam 007 The The Meters - Chicken Strut 008 Paul McCartney - Live And Let Die (from Live And Let Die) 009 The Rolling Stones - Brown Sugar 010 Lucinda Williams - Crescent City 011 King Hobo - New Or-Sa-Leans 012 Concrete Blonde - Bloodletting 013 Down - Underneath Everything 014 True Blood Theme Song (Jace Everett - Bad Things) 015 Corrosion of Conformity - Broken Man 016 The New Orleans Jazz Vipers - I Hope Your Comin' Back To New Orleans 017 Willy DeVille - Jump City 018 Left Side - Gold In New Orleans 017 Necrophagia - Reborn through Black Mass 018 Johnny Horton - The Battle Of New Orleans 019 Dr John - Litanie des Saints 020 Foo Fighters - In the Clear 021 Redbone - The Witch Queen Of New Orleans 022 Jucifer - Lautrichienne 023 Danzig - It's a long way back from hell 024 Harry Connick, Jr. - Oh, My Nola 025 The Gaturs - Gator Bait 026 Jon Bon Jovi - Queen Of New Orleans 027 Cyril Neville - Gossip 028 Carlos Santana - Black Magic Woman 029 Gentleman June Gardner - It's Gonna Rain 030 Eddy G. Giles - Soul Feeling (Part 1) 031 Tool - Swamp Song 032 Beasts of Bourbon - Psycho 033 Seratones - Gotta Get To Know Ya 034 Chuck Berry - You Never Can Tell 035 Grateful Dead - Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodleoo 036 Pale Misery - Hope is a Mistake 037 Exhorder - Homicide 038 King James & the Special Men - Special Man Boogie 039 Chuck Carbo - Can I Be Your Squeeze 040 Amebix - Axeman 041 Tomahawk - Captain Midnight 042 Waylon Jennings - Jambalaya 043 Heavy Lids - Deviate 044 Red Hot Chili Peppers - Apache Rose Peacock 045 Necrophagia - Rue Morgue Disciple 046 Johnny Cash - Big River 047 Albert King - Laundromat Blues 048 Meklit Feat Preservation Hall Horns - You Are My Luck 049 Le Winston Band - En haut de la montagne 050 Dr. john - I Thought I Heard New Orleans Say 051 Down - New Orleans is a dying whore 052 Samhain - To Walk The Night 053 Creedence Clearwater Revival - Green River 054 Southern Culture on the Skids - Voodoo Cadillac 055 Bonnie, Sheila - You Keep Me Hanging On 056 Warren Lee - Funky Bell 057 Elf - Annie New Orleans 058 Cannonball Adderley - New Orleans Strut 059 Doug Kershaw - Louisiana Man - New Orleans Version 060 Willy deVille - Voodoo Charm 061 The Animals - The House of the Rising Sun 062 Porgy Jones - The Dapp 063 Lost Bayou Ramblers - Sabine Turnaround 064 IDRIS MUHAMMAD - New Orleans 065 John Lee Hooker - Boogie Chillen No. 2 066 Hank 3 - Hillbilly Joker 067 Nine Inch Nails - Heresy 068 Talking Heads - Swamp 069 Irma Thomas - I'd Rather Go Blind 070 Mississippi Fred McDowell - I'm Going Down the River 071 Dee Dee Bridgewater - Big Chief 072 Dr. John - Creole Moon 073 Agents of Oblivion - Slave Riot 074 Steve Vai - Voodoo Acid 075 Saviours - Slave To The Hex 076 Kris Kristofferson - Casey's Last Ride 077 JJ Cale - Louisiana Women 078 Cher - Dark Lady of New Orleans 079 LE ROUX - Take A Ride On A Riverboat 080 The Melvins - A History Of Bad Men 081 Floodgate - Through My Days Into My Nights 082 Opprobium - voices from the grave 083 Quintron & Miss Pussycat - Swamp Buggy Badass 084 Child Bite - ancestral ooze 085 Sammi Smith - The City Of New Orleans 086 The Explosions - Garden Of Four Trees 087 Bobby Boyd - straight ahead 088 Bobby Charles - Street People 089 Wall of Voodoo - Far Side of Crazy 090 Rhiannon Giddens - Freedom Highway (feat. Bhi Bhiman) 091 Elton John - Honky Cat 092 Serge Gainsbourg - Bonnie and Clyde 093 Fats Domino - I'm Walking To New Orleans 094 Cruel Sea - Orleans Stomp 095 Down - On March The Saints 096 Danzig - Ju Ju Bone 097 The Neville Brothers ~ Voodoo 098 Megadeth - The Conjuring 099 Miles Davis - Miles runs the voodoo down 100 Elvis Presley - King Creole 101 Led Zeppelin - Royal Orleans 102 The Lime Spiders - Slave Girl 103 BIG BILL BROONZY -'Mississippi River Blues' 104 Kreeps - Bad Voodoo 105 Dirty Dozen Brass Band - Caravan 106 Kirk Windstein - Dream In Motion 107 Eletric Prunes - Kyrie Eleison - Mardi Gras 108 Merle Haggard - The Legend Of Bonnie And Clyde 109 Corrosion of Conformity - River of Stone 110 THE ADVENTURES OF HUCK FINN (MAIN TITLE) 111 Zigaboo Modeliste - Guns 112 ReBirth Brass Band - Let's Go Get 'Em 113 Inell Young - What Do You See In Her? 114 Jimi Hendrix - If 6 as 9 (Studio Version) Easy Rider Soundtrack 115 Deep Purple - Speed King 116 Exhorder - The Law 117 Crowbar - The Cemetery Angels 118 A Streetcar Named Desire OST - Main Title 119 WOORMS - Take His Fucking Leg 120 steely dan - pearl of the quarter 121 Tabby Thomas - Hoodoo Party 122 Black Label Society - Parade of the Dead 123 Dwight James & The Royals - Need Your Loving 124 Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter (2012) The Rampant Hunter (Soundtrack OST) 125 PanterA - The Great Southern Trendkill 126 Ween - WHO DAT? 127 Earl King - Street Parade 128 Ernie K-Doe - Here Come The Girls 129 Dejan's Olympia Brass Band ~ Mardi Gras In New Orleans 130 Body Count - KKK Bitch 131 Goatwhore - Apocalyptic Havoc 132 C.C. Adcock - Y'all d Think She Be Good To Me (from True Blood S01E01) 133 The Meters - Fire On The Bayou 134 Dr. John - I Walk On Guilded Splinters 135 Balfa Brothers - J'ai Passe Devant ta Porte 136 Ween - Voodoo Lady 137 King Diamond - 'LOA' House 138 Creedence Clearwater Revival - Born On The Bayou 139 Dax Riggs - See You All In Hell Or New Orleans 140 Professor Longhair - Go to the Mardi Gras 141 Dixie Witch - Shoot The Moon 142 Ramones - The KKK Took My Baby Away 143 Fats Waller - There's Going To Be The Devil To Pay 144 Mississippi Fred McDowell - When the Train Comes Along with Sidney Carter & Rose Hemphill 145 Treme Song (Main Title Version) 146 Tony Joe White - Even Trolls Love Rock and Roll 147 Nine Inch Nails - Sin 148 Exodus - Cajun Hell 149 NEIL DIAMOND - New Orleans 150 James Brown - Call Me Super Bad 151 Jimi Hendrix - Voodoo Child ( Slight Return ) 152 Allen Toussaint - Chokin Kind 153 Dash Rip Rock - Meet Me at the River 154 Hawg Jaw- 4 Lo 155 Hot 8 Brass Band - Keepin It Funky 156 Hank Williams III - Rebel Within 157 Dejan's Original Olympia Brass Band - Shake It And Break It 158 Jelly Roll Morton - Finger Buster 159 The Royal Pendletons - (Im a) Sore Loser 160 Little Bob & The Lollipops - Nobody But You 161 Gregg Allman - Floating Bridge (True Detective Soundtrack) 162 Michael Doucel with Beausoleil - Valse de Grand Meche 163 Dolly Parton - My Blue Ridge Mountain Boy 164 Othar Turner & the Afrossippi Allstars – Shimmy She Wobble 165 Jucifer - Fleur De Lis 166 Soilent Green - Leaves Of Three 167 Ides Of Gemini - Queen of New Orleans 168 Betty Harris - Trouble with My Lover 169 Lead Belly - Pick A Bale Of Cotton 170 Candyman Opening Theme 171 Goatwhore - When Steel and Bone Meet 172 Acid Bath - Bleed Me An Ocean 173 Pere Ubu - Louisiana Train Wreck 174 Walter -Wolfman- Washington - You Can Stay But the Noise Must Go 175 Alice in Chains - Hate To Feel 176 Body Count - Voodoo 177 Live and Let Die - Jazz Funeral 178 Smoky Babe - Cotton Field Blues 179 Professor Longhair - Big Chief Part 2 180 Lewis Boogie - Walk the Line 181 James Black - Theres a Storm in the Gulf 182 The Balfa Brothers - Parlez Nous A Boire 183 The Jambalaya Cajun Band - Bayou Teche Two Step 184 The Deacons - Fagged Out 185 Thou - The Changeling Prince 186 Black Sabbath - Voodoo 187 King Diamond - Louisiana Darkness 188 Doyle - Cemeterysexxx 189 KINGDOM OF SORROW - Grieve a Lifetime 190 Hank Williams III - Louisiana Stripes 191 FORMING THE VOID - On We Sail 192 BUCK BILOXI AND THE FUCKS - fuck you 193 Down in New Orleans - The Princess and the Frog Soundtrack 194 Trombone Shorty & James Andrews - oh Poo Pah Doo 195 Whitesnake - Ain't No Love In The Heart Of The City 196 The Dirty Dozen Brass band - Voodoo 197 Joe Simon - The Chokin' Kind 198 Down - Ghosts along the Mississippi 199 AEROSMITH - Voodoo Medicine Man 200 Nine Inch Nails - The Perfect Drug 201 The Byrds - [Sanctuary III] Ballad Of Easy Rider 202 The Iguauas - Boom Boom Boom 203 PJ Harvey - Down By The Water 204 Louis Armstrong - Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans 205 Dr John - Right Place Wrong Time 206 ESTHER ROSE - handyman 207 Lightnin Slim - It's Mighty Crazy 208 Slim Harpo - Blues Hangover 209 Irma Thomas - Ruler Of My Heart 210 WEATHER WARLOCK - Fukk the Plan-0 211 Superjoint Ritual - The Alcoholik (Use Once And Destroy) 212 Stressball - dust 213 Trampoline Team - Kill You On The Streetcar 214 Xander Harris - Where’s your Villain? 215 Dukes of Dixieland - When The Saints Go Marching In 216 Kid Congo & The Pink Monkey Birds - Su Su 217 Danzig - I'm the one 218 EyeHatteGod - Pigs 219 Hank Williams Jr - Amos Moses 220 The Cramps - Alligator Stomp 221 Crowbar - The Serpent Only Lies 222 Shrüm - drip 223 Thou - The Only Law 224 DR. JOHN - Babylon 225 Garth Brooks - Callin' Baton Rouge 226 Wild Magnolias - All On A Mardi Gras Day 227 NCIS New Orleans TV Show theme 228 Skull Duggery - Big Easy 229 Harry Connick Jr. - City beaneath the sea 230 Elvis Presley - Dixieland Rock 231 Tom Waits - I Wish I Was In New Orleans (In The Ninth Ward) 232 Neil Young - Everybody's Rockin 233 Philip H. Anselmo & The Illegals - Delinquent 234 CORROSION OF CONFORMITY - Wolf Named Crow 235 Widespread Panic - Fishwater 236 Lillian Boutté - Why Don't You Go Down to New Orleans 237 Bryan Ferry - Limbo 238 Scream - Mardi Gras 239 EyeHateGod - Shoplift 240 Better Than Ezra - good 241 Duke Ellington - Perdido (1960 Version) 242 Bob Dylan - Rambling, Gambling Willie 243 Big Bad Voodoo Daddy - sAve my soul 244 Le Roux - So Fired Up 245 Concrete Blonde - The Vampire song 246 Boozoo Chavis - Zydeco Mardi Gras 247 Idris Muhammad - Piece of mind 248 Les Hooper - Back in Blue Orleans 249 Doug Kershaw - Cajun stripper 250 DOWN - Witchtripper 251 Soilent Green - So hatred 252 Professional Longhair - Big chief 253 Willie Nelson - City Of New Orleans 254 Tom Waits - Whistlin' Past The Graveyard 255 Brian Fallon - sleepwalkers 256 Patsy - Count It On Down 257 Into the Moat - The Siege Of Orleans 258 Bruce Cockburn - Down To The Delta 259 Jello Biafra · the Raunch and Soul All-Stars - Fannie Mae 260 Exhorder - Asunder 261 Cane Hill - Too Far Gone 262 The Slackers - peculiar 263 Crowbar - A Breed Apart 264 COC - Wiseblood 265 Necrophagia - Embalmed Yet I Breathe 266 EYEHATEGOD - Fake What's Yours 333 Alan Vega - Bye Bye Bayou 666 DOWN - Stone the crow

I don’t beads by the way! Hit play here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC182dTlE-Gii6ZOO5ZrN1Z1T

#new orleans #New Orleans playlist #NOLA #NOLA playlist #Louisiana #corrosion of conformity #Alan Vega #necrophagia #New Orleans songs #mardi gras #Mardi Gras songs #crowbar #eyehategod

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aroaceslytherin · 4 years ago

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A03 AU HP Fanfic (Finally Here!)

Chapter 1: Karma Killed Her (https://archiveofourown.org/works/31582727/chapters/78143753) (mention of abuse and homophobia, some transphobia)

QUITE LONG

1953 Walburga winced as the maids pulled tighter on her corset. Her nails dug into her palms. Her arms hanging loosely at her sides. Today was her wedding day. Yesterday was the day she had been practicing her posture. Her mother hit her quite a number of times whilst screaming; ‘Upright! Left, right, forward, back. Let him lead! Your wedding must be perfect or else it will surely lead you to a life of solitude!’ For as long as Walburga could remember, she had been a little unsteady on her feet. She would chase her brothers down the hall and clip a corner to close which resulted in bruises on her shoulders, falling on her arse and limping for a week, or that one time she stained her mothers floorboards with a broken nose. That was a day she would never forget. FLASHBACK She could already hear the furious steps of her mother’s heels as they climbed the winding stairs of their manor. “CAMELIA WALBURGA BLACK!” Walburga groaned internally as the witches mended her nose. “Mother, I have told you. I cannot help it that I stumble!” Irma growled, hitting her daughter over the head with her palm. “You need to listen to the etiquette teachers! Practice makes perfect after all, and you are to be the perfect heiress someday! We already have your husband chosen, and I am not having you ruin anything with your clumsy nature! I will see to it you go twice every-day from here on out!” Walburga opened her mouth to protest. Her mother clamped her mouth shut, pushing the medi-witches out of the washroom. “Enough, ladies!” She knelt in front of Walburga, tilting her daughter’s head up so grey eyes met hers. “You are growing up, dear. I cannot have you muddying up your dresses anymore as you chase your brothers ‘round this house! It is unladylike! You are soon to be eleven! Tis’ time you act like a grown woman!” Irma pulled her daughter up and shoved her to the door. “Dinner is downstairs getting cold, I suggest you eat before you get none. AND CLEAN UP YOUR BLOOD BEFORE BED OR YOU GO HUNGRY FOR A WEEK!” END FLASHBACK Walburga tousled her curls through her fingers and admired her dress in the floor-length mirror before she headed out of her bedroom and into the halls. Her heels tapped softly on the hardwood floor as she made her way downstairs. She tripped once she got to the bottom. Though not over herself. “ALPHARD!” She screamed, picking up the two-year-old dressed in a black ruffled dress. She hoisted her on her hip, supporting her with one hand under the baby's bum. Walburga stormed through the house looking for her younger brother just shy of one year. She found him outside in the greenhouse, taking a drag. She groaned, shifting the squirmy brat to her other side.

“Alphard Roland Black!” She yelled through gritted teeth, pushing through the greenhouse doors.

He hadn’t noticed her until she grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and threw it on the ground, stomping on it with her heeled boot; putting it out.

“Fuck’s sake, what?!” Alphard yelled, hands to the side. Walburga thrust the baby into his arms. He took her with a groan of protest and disgust. “I don’t want this.”

“You are on baby duty!” Walburga huffed, crossing her arms and scowling at him. “We expected you to be keeping these kids from being in our way, and you are out here smoking fags?!”

“Why are we doing this? They are Cygnus’ after all! Besides, this whole cousin marrying cousin thing is absurd!” He waved his hand in a circle, rolling his sharp grey eyes.

“Mother is against people knowing he had kids out of wedlock and in his teens. Why are you so against everything she teaches?”

“So is Cygnus!”

“NOT!” Walburga screamed. “He merely broke one rule, you go against everything!” She swiped her hand through the air firmly to signify her point.

“WALBURGA!” Their mother screamed from the porch. “Get back in this house this instant!”

Walburga poked her brother in the chest with her sharp nail painted black. "Watch the brats or I will have your head.” She growled as she hiked up her dress with a huff before heading back to her mother. “Heaven forbid my kids act like him.” She murmured under her breath.

Upon approaching her mother, Irma cast cleaning charms on her then pushed her inside. “I thought I told you to stop going after Alphard, you are twenty-five for crying out loud.”

“He was smoking again and was not watching Bellatrix like you asked. I tripped over her.” She felt her mother’s grip tighten on her shoulder at the mention of her brother with cigarettes again. Walburga shrugged her off and headed to the front parlour with a huff.

***

Hours later everything had gone well. Walburga was proud of herself she had not made a fool of herself as the new Lady Black. There was laughter and chatter between the whole of the Pureblood society and, as suspected, no mud-bloods, half-bloods, or traitors had attended.

Walburga greeted everyone by name; to be polite. She danced gracefully this time (as the bruises, cuts, and welts from her mother had reminded her) with the various partners she had taken up as they moved throughout the ballroom. She felt confident, proud, and more-so like a lady than she had when she woke up that morning.

Walburga jumped in her skin when her brother surprisingly came out of nowhere then grabbed her by the wrist.

Alphard spun his sister into his embrace. She grimaced at his breath.

“You smell like you had gone and drunk all of our liquor." She took his hand and placed a hand on his shoulder as they began to waltz. "Where are the children, brother mine?”

“Sleeping, darling. Don’t you worry.” He smirked that notorious Black lineage smile that most everyone in their family wore proudly. “Congratulations, sis.” He kissed her on the cheek, spinning her twice before dipping her. “I am afraid I may have to leave permanently.”

“What?!” She hissed quietly, pulling herself up before darting her grey eyes around the vast room to make sure no one around her heard. “You cannot! Must you?”

Alphard brought the rhythm back before they tripped over each other. “I cannot handle mother any longer. You ratted me out, it was worse than last. I am an outcast here and you know it.”

“Who will help with Bella and Andie?” Walburga asked, politely declining another dance as her brother spun her again.

“Mother said you are to take them until he is of age. By then, though, he may just not be a suitable father.” Alphard bowed to her as the next symphony started. He grabbed her two hands in his, pulling her to him before kissing her forehead. “I love you.” Alphard handed her off to the male that had asked her for her hand last time before fleeing and never looking back.

____________

As the evening drew on, Walburga grew tired and tipsy. Several people had left or retired to the hallway to have a proper chat. As she danced with Orion, she noticed William Lestrange and her mother talking in a corner.

“Pass me to him, please. I need to get closer to my mother.”

Orion obeyed and took the next lady into his arms. Walburga heard her congratulate him as she moved through the sea of people before landing in the arms of a man that was close to her mother.

“...such a beautiful bride. People will talk for years to come. You must be satisfied.”

Walburga’s heart filled with warmth. She worked hard for tonight and was glad she could stay focused on being poised and graceful all night; careful to not trip during the dances. Walburga focused her grey eyes on her mother to listen on what she was going to say. She waited all night to hear a good thing from the person who gave her life. All she wanted was approval. To make her mother proud by being the best lady. It seemed all throughout childhood her mother nagged on her for not being the best. Finally she could be accepted!

“That girl is a lost cause!” Her mother bit out at William. Irma’s face twisted into a sneer as she gripped her wine glass tight. “No grace, frighteningly terrifying, always muddying her dresses and chasing after her brothers! I should curse her to having a son just like Alphard with mannerisms like her so she at least knows the pain I went through! Months of work and she still can’t sit upright, walk poised, or stand with dignity! Forgets proper etiquette and table manners! Was troublesome until she went off to Hogwarts, I was glad to be rid of her! Now she’s off troubling someone else and for that I couldn’t be happier!”

Walburga felt like someone had just stabbed her in the heart.

William bowed down and kissed Irma’s hand. “I am all the more impressed by what you have achieved.”

Her mother smiled sweetly. “Thank you dear, I do what I can. No matter how ungrateful that little brat can be.” Irma ended bitterly.

Walburga thought that her mother. No, Irma. Had always put family first, no matter what.

Toujor Pur, after all.

It was like something had lifted and now all that stood before her was a wicked bitter hag full of jealousy.

I don't need her after all.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered to the man, biting back her tears as she let go. “Thank you, but I-I can’t, can’t be here right now.” She hiked up her dress and fled the ballroom. Toujour Por meant something to her.

I will teach the true meaning behind being pure, keeping the family pure, having magic coursing in our veins, Dark Arts, and family first always- no matter what! None of this behaviour my mother engages in any longer!

***

A few years later Walburga fell pregnant. All she wished for was to give her husband a healthy son to be their heir to stop the gossip, ridicule, and outcasting on how people noticed how hard it was on her. How they thought she actually could not fit the role. Her wishes had not come true. Her first pregnancy had been twin girls; Syfrin Ophelia - later to be Sirius Orion - and Rosier Azalea II. However, she had some faith to her first born...

Walburga held her daughters close to her as Orion stood beside her. "No heir, yet, Camelia."

"Syfrin is a boy."

"That is clearly a girl. Well, Camelia?" Orion started, taking their first-born in his arms. "What odd things run in our family?"

Walburga smiled. "I am not sure, why?"

Within two years, she had two more kids. One boy; Alastair Rigel, later to become Alice Fleur. One girl; Regina Adelene, later to be Regulus Arcturus. All four of them tested her nerves just as much as the first four. She never got a full night’s rest again, but she never lost her patience.

Syfrin/Sirius was lively, clumsy, challenging, and loud like Bellatrix, Rosier, and Alastair/Alice where as Regina/Regulus was patient, quiet, obedient, and carefree like Andromeda, Pandora, and Narcissa.

It was too much; her brothers drank themselves to death, Alphard disowned for being gay, Cygnus only having kids because of their family and then her having to adopt them. People within their circle ridiculed them because there were no boys and that Cygnus murdered Druella just hours after Pandora and Narcissa’s birth. They then ridiculed her for having no suitable heir and taking in his daughters.

As her children grew, she repeated ‘Toujour Pur’ and provided constant reminders that muggles were mud-bloods and they were to stay away from them for they were filthy. Walburga would tell them the world was hurtful and cruel. That family came first always.

Her first-born never seemed to understand. They pestered and tested Walburga with inappropriate questions. They seemed unable to sit in a chair right, refused to sit up straight or hold a fork correctly and ate everything with their hands. No matter what Walburga did; this kid was just as clumsy as she used to be. They were a challenge.

She would never hit, she would never yell. Before she lost her temper, she would walk away then come back and talk to her kids about the problem and what she expected. She promised herself she would never become her mother. She would cry herself to sleep at night thinking Syfrin/Sirius would never pick up on her teachings. She was afraid Regulus would follow in their footsteps even though he was currently following hers. Her adopted daughters also did better than Sirius.

*1971

Walburga was glad when she sent Sirius and Rosier off to Hogwarts. Their prefects could finally show them the right way. Andromeda, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Pandora would be there for a few years and they would listen to them. When the first owls arrived from Bellatrix, that is when Walburga knew something was up.

Orion stood beside her, sipping his wine. Watching as she picked up the letter. Her hands shook as she looked at Bellatrix's handwriting.

Everything she had built, everything she had taught him… it all went up in ashes.

Walburga slammed the letter down as she stormed off to the kitchen.

“Not a word.” She said sternly at the cooks as she approached the cupboards and retrieved the plates. She took them to the cellar where she smashed them against the grey brick wall until there weren’t any left. As she looked at the damage, she sank to her knees and screamed with tears streaming down her face.

Walburga wanted to die, or even murder her daughters when they were born. All they had done since they conceived them was make her life burdensome and painful. Ever since the day they were born, they were a traitors to the bloodline. She was ashamed they were even hers. They had sorted her son and only chance of a good male heir into Gryffindor.

Walburga saw it was coming.

She had one chance left to make things right; Regina.

Her youngest. Obedient, calm, collected, and poised. Never clumsy, boisterous, or rude. A proud Slytherin. Top marks in Dark Arts. She even became a Death Eater after Bellatrix. She understood it was pro-muggle activism keeping knowledge from proper witches and wizards and supported it. Regina never disappointed her even though she was not a suitable heir. She could give a suitable heir, though. Walburga still worried when she hung with her sisters and continued to look up to them.

*1976 September

It was another Summer with the kids home from Hogwarts. Walburga dreaded going to the ball with her dysfunctional family but she couldn’t afford to stay away.

Where Regina/Regulus accepted dance requests and focused on finding a suitable heir, Sirius had not and smoked cigarettes in a corner.

Regina/Regulus had worn a black sparkling ball gown despite the arguing that had followed when Walburga presented it to her; "Why won't you wear this dress?" Walburga asked, hands on her hips as she stood in the middle of Regina's room. Regina/Regulus shrugged. "I do not feel comfortable with them, mother." Walburga folded her arms. "I have come to terms that you are not a suitable heir but that you can give me one, and now you are telling me you would rather wear a suit over a dress? Do not tell me you are like your sister and want to be a man!" Regina/Regulus hung her head, toying with the tulle fabric of the ball gowns skirt. In the end, Walburga won. Whereas Sirius wore a suit with a leather jacket. Which had also ended in a fight. She wasn’t even trying to look for a dance partner or suitable future husband. People made jokes that she was a wizard interested in wizards or even a witch interested in witches. *sometimes they could not tell which gender Sirius wanted to be* Walburga knew who her friends were though; mudbloods and traitors. She didn’t even try to keep his interests or relations with all those harlots and men a secret. For reasons unknown to her, she had recently just stopped doing that in the past year.

I need answers.

Because of her children, Walburga was an outcast. No one talked to her. It forced her to interact with the only people she could; her brothers and her husband. That is where she currently stood, with her family, waving away her brother’s smoke clouds as she tried her hardest to ignore the nausea that clawed at her throat as her husband and brother just kept drinking.

She knew the three of them were trying to forget about Syfrin/Sirius.

Alphard, however, was not. He was proud of Sirius for being himself and acting like him; looking up to the "cool" Uncle.

Walburga had hated her brother ever since the day she had dug into him before he had left her house…

FLASHBACK 1961

Walburga was holding two month old Regina/Regulus as she stormed downstairs to the servants’ quarters where her brother slept in the extra room spending his days drowning in whiskey, smoke, and stupid muggle painting.

“I will not have my children raised around a smoker! What is all this?!” She gestured to his canvases and paintings, kicking one down and stomping on it. “I want you out of this house by sundown! You don’t belong here anymore, you fag! My son does not need this kind of influence! He will marry a weathful, beautiful, young dame and give us wonderful heirs for years to come! In order for that, you must leave!”

“I will still be at the dances and family gatherings as mother insisted when she disowned me and sent me to you, but fine! I’ll leave this bloody house for all I fucking care! Have fun raising eight kids on your own!”

END FLASHBACK

When Alphard glanced at Sirius, it ignited something in Walburga. She grabbed him by the collar and dragged him off to a nearby powder room. She threw out the girls giggling inside and locked them out before putting up a silencing charm and glared at her brother.

“Have you been seeing my daughter!?” Walburga seethed, crossing her arms.

Alphard took another drag.

She pulled it from his hand, throwing it in the ashtray before pushing her brother toward the counter with her hands around his neck.

He winced as she pushed him further into the countertop; the smooth edges pushing painfully against his spine. Alphard watched her eyes turn almost black. There was no more grey colouring or happiness in Walburga. She had turned cold, like their mother. There was no turning back from that for a Black…

Once you go black, you never go back.

“I will ask again.” She growled. “Have… you… been… visiting… my… child?!”

“They have been coming to me.” Alphard choked out. His throat was on fire and his wrists were hurting from squeezing the counter. “They had questions.” He choked out. “I answered.” She squeezed tighter. His vision blurred. “Stop!”

Orion ran in and yanked her backwards. “Honey, stop!” He yelled, squeezing his hands into her shoulders. “You are going to kill somebody!”

Walburga shoved Orion away. “What do you fucking care?! You are just drinking away your life with my brother, ignoring your children like always! I’m stuck taking care of eight kids, one of which wants nothing to do with our family and our traditions!” She grabbed her husband’s wrists, her voice gone dark as she spoke her next words. “You do anything you can to stop her from burrowing further into this rabbit hole of hers!”

“You have been making him hurt your son already! He has bruises, scars, and told me a complete list of spells yo-”

“SHUT UP!” Walburga screamed, slapping her brother. “YOU did this to her! I told you to stay away from her, no matter how persistent she got!”

“He is fifteen!” Alphard argued.

“AND DOING EVERYTHING YOU AND CYGNUS DID WHEN YOU TWO WERE YOUNGER!” Walburga screamed even louder. Alphard was right… Walburga was too far gone now. “She is a disgrace. An outcast, a traitor, a freak! I should have just killed all of them.” She glared at her husband. “I am taking the children home.”

*nine at night*

Walburga was quiet the rest of the evening as she dragged her children home.

Sirius was laughing, Regina was glaring at him, and Bellatrix was complaining.

Why is this my life?

Once they got home Regina/Regulus went up to bed, the girls went outside to giggle about boys. Walburga grabbed her wand and aimed it at Sirius’ back.

Petrificus Totalus!

“You are the worst thing that has ever happened in my life!” She circled her then gripped her chin and tilted it up so their grey eyes met. “Your father has done enough, it’s my turn! I cannot save it any longer, I-” she swallowed thickly.

Say it, you cannot stand loving someone like this anymore. He is not your son. Never has been. Sirius stared at her as she tripped over her words.

Her leather jacket angered her, the long hair she insisted on wearing as a boy, his tattoos she knew she had *very unladylike*, her piercings, her “friends”, her choice in being Sirius over Syfrin, ending up in Gryffindor and being portrayed as a boy by the castle, teachers, and students. She slapped Sirius after letting go of their face.

“I hate you.” She spit it out; literally.

Walburga grabbed the broom from the kitchen and went back to the entrance between kitchen and living room. Her heart pounded, ached in her chest, she did not want to do this to her baby but she had hurt her. She needed to be shown not from her father how much pain she put to her mother, but by Walburga herself… the person she hurt.

“I hate you.” She repeated, tears stinging her eyes.

She could not take it anymore. Sixteen years of humiliation, pain, disobedience, talking back, shouting, screaming, yelling, smashed family heirlooms and antiques, broken books, smashed walls, knives through the tables and walls, fork marks in the table. Walburga’s blood ran cold as she brought the broom up and brought it down hard on her child.

Sirius fell to her knees, biting her tongue to keep from screaming out. Walburga picked her up from under her armpits and brought the broom down on her back once more. “I hate you, you are a disgrace!”

“A faggot like your bastard Uncle!” The broom came down on Sirius' shoulder blade with a deafening crack.

“Hanging out with Mudbloods!” Walburga swung the broom again.

“How dare the fates let you become a bloody Gryffindor! You can have suitable heirs as a girl!” She hit Sirius with the broom three more times with the last sentence.

Again and again, the broom came down on her child. With every hit, Sirius winced. Sirius had disrespected her with everything she was. Walburga had done her best to never hit or yell. She now had enough and could not take it anymore. She poured all her anger and disappointment out on her child. The one person who should have been her heir!

“I hate you! Is that through your skull yet?!” She screamed, pointing her wand at Sirius. “Crucio!” Sirius arched her back, screaming vociferously. Walburga could feel the strength grow within her as she punished her kid.

She struck again… her neck, her hands. Walburga smiled as she watched Syfrin draw away from the sting as she trembled. Walburga could only guess it was from the crying.

She grabbed his long curly hair and pulled her head back to meet her dark eyes. “I… hate… you…” Walburga seethed.

Sirius squeezed her eyes shut, warm tears trailing down her face.

Walburga smiled the Black lineage smile as she threw her forwards at the coffee table.

Sirius' body landed on the top of the table with a hard thud and a pained moan.

“For so long I have had to deal with you… keep up with you… I had your father do my dirty work because I could not go through with it but I have had quite enough! You simply could not have told how much I hated you through your father, but you figured out how much he hated you. It is my turn. You needed to see how much I truly detested you and I did it all in one go.”

Images of all the times Syfrin acted out, disobeyed, stumbled, fallen, talked back. It fuelled her anger. Syfrin deserve no one… not those friends… not her sisters… nor whoever she was seeing.

“You deserve no one!” She continued beating and cursing at her child until she was tired. Walburga had been waiting to punish them. Now that she was finally doing it, she felt like she couldn’t stop.

Walburga watched her daughter turned potential heir turned to a disgrace weep on the table. Blood seeped through her clothing and onto the floor.

I’ll deal with that later.

Her long hair had become plastered to her sweaty tear-stained face. For the first time in sixteen years, Walburga felt content.

“You can drown in your misery for all I care. Just get up to bed before your father gets home or you will deal with him as well. Might as well stay there so he can do more damage anyway, you deserve it.”

She leant over Sirius as the front door opened.

“Too late.”

Walburga gripped her daughter's hair, pulling at the nape of her neck.

“Did I say you are a faggot? I found letters from your so-called friend. Everything you are doing and have done is amoral! You have always been an outcast, a blood traitor, and disowned. You haven’t been my son for years.”

She looked up to find Orion looming over them. He had heard everything she just said.

Sirius whined as she tried moving away but Walburga pulled her up by her elbows and held her back against her own body. “I’m going to enjoy watching your drunk father do the same things I just did to you.” She growled into Sirius' ear.

*eleven thirty*

Sirius climbed the stairs in weak agony.

His parents were downstairs cleaning up the blood, the evidence, and the smashed plates from earlier.

His sisters had gone up to bed through the basement cellar to avoid the scenery of him getting beaten.

He stood on shaking legs in front of the bathroom mirror, locked inside until he left.

Sirius inspected himself; his left eye was purple and swollen, his lips had cuts and dried blood, some blood was still coming out of his mouth, his hands were bleeding, his back was killing him.

His father had beat him harder than he had in the past. Sirius had two assumptions; he was drunker than usual… or, since his mother had not given his father any instructions, then he had done what he wanted to do.

Sirius hung his head and gripped the porcelain sink as more tears escaped his body. How he even deserved this he hadn’t known. Who was he to stop himself from being clumsy, gay, a boy ninety percent of the time, or uninterested in dark magic?! It was who he was!

Without even looking up, he brought his fist up and smashed the mirror to bits. He spun on his heels and punched the wall above the toilet paper holder; leaving a vast hole in the plaster and wallpaper. It left him feeling elated.

He took out his pocket knife from his slacks and added a few more cuts to his wrists before pocketing it again. Sirius became nauseous and threw himself over the toilet where he threw up blood, his dinner, and some bile. He growled as he flushed it down.

About twenty minutes later, he went to his youngest siblings room. He knocked on the door as he entered. Regulus ran up to their brother and wrapped their arms tightly around his middle. Sirius hugged Regulus tight, kissing their head.

“I love you.” Sirius whispered.

“I love you, too.” Regulus replied. “But you can’t leave.”

“I have to! Did you not hear what was going on downstairs?!” Sirius yelled, gesturing to the staircase outside the room leading to the living room he just left. “Do you not see the condition my body is in?!” He gestured to himself.

“YOU FUCKING PROMISED! YOU WERE THERE TO PROTECT ME!” Regulus had hot tears stinging their grey eyes. “You should not have come in. You should have just left!”

“I wanted to say something before I left.”

“Bullshit.” Regulus growled, grabbing a photo album and throwing it at Sirius’ head. Sirius ducked. “You promised! All you do is hurt us!”

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut. “It's not me.” He choked out, the last thing he wanted was for his brother to hate him.

“NO!” Regulus yelled, punching the wall beside Sirius’ head, baring their teeth. “If you want to leave, then leave!” They whispered through their teeth. Regulus' body shook with adrenaline.

Sirius watched Regulus’ cheeks turn from pink to a burning red. Their sad grey eyes were like daggers to his heart, much more so than his mothers. He had been close to his brother. Sirius shoved Regulus away, causing the youngest heir to stumble back.

“FINE!” Sirius growled through clenched teeth. “I thought I could protect you and get you to follow me.”

“They need me!” Regulus whispered, grey eyes searching the grey carpet below them.

“You do not have to do this. Just tell them.” Sirius pleaded. Regulus glared up at him. Sirius nodded. “Alright. Do not tell me I didn’t try. I love you.” He turned out into the hallway and headed to his room as his heart shattered. No one in this house loved him anymore, so he would just go to someone who did.

“I love you. I’m sorry.” Regulus whispered after him.

Sirius heard them.

***midnight***

Walburga sat happily at the table in the sitting room. Humming, she stirred her tea with a small silver spoon and ignored the loud noises from upstairs. Walburga didn’t care about what was going on. If there was damage, she would have someone fix it later. She knew Saiph would outlash at his punishments. Someone trampled down the stairs. Bumping against something every few moments.

“I’m leaving,” Sirius barked, “And you will not be seeing me anymore. I will not be coming back.”

“I would not want you back anyway.”

Walburga didn’t bother getting up. She sat and watched her son/daughter as he stormed out the front doors. With the slam of the front door, everything felt lighter. It should not have felt nice but it had. Sirius was a Gryffindor, he always had been. He never fit in with their Slytherin house, their Dark Arts, the Death Eaters. That was Regina's job.

Walburga was confused when she heard someone else come running. She stood and entered the living room. “Regina.” She said calmly. Regulus stopped in his tracks, looking up at his mother. “She disappointed us. You know that, right?”

Regulus nodded. “But-”

“You will not disappoint us too, Regina. Got it?” Walburga warned.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Regulus/Regina answered sadly. Walburga didn’t catch her tone as she was too busy pulling out her wand and changing the wards.

“She is an ungrateful brat. I did my best, she still had not listened. Then Hogwarts went and sorted her into the wrong house!” She whirled on Regina, taking wide steps until she gripped her chin, locking their eyes together. “You are still focused on finding a suitable heir, yes?”

Regulus/Regina nodded. Though she was just fourteen, she knew how important marrying wealthy pure-blood men was to her mother. She just could not help how he felt towards a certain someone at Hogwarts or how he felt to his own body. She needed to be on her mother’s good side, no matter how hard it got at times. She could have her fun without her finding out, do her duties as a Death Eater on the side, and still have everything be completely alright when she graduates.

Right?

“I know how much it means to you that this family stays together, but unfortunately Syfrin had other plans.” Walburga would see to it that she would not suffer from her older sisters. She would be seen as the one and only suitable heiress of the House of Black who would hopefully bring up suitable heirs in the future.

Regulus followed her to the tapestry and watched as she pointed her wand at Sirius' name; in which the tapestry and every pure-blood paper had re-wrote istelf to suit who Sirius was when he changed who he was in the family. Regulus intended to do that someday as he watched an intense beam come from Walburga's wand.

With satisfaction, Walburga watched the name of what she thought to be her last rotten spawn become burnt off the family tree.

**1977**

Walburga took a trip to Hogsmeade a week after the kids had gone back to school. She did her best to keep herself out of sight from prying eyes as people would surely talk. She had just wanted to see if she could spot Regulus having a bit of enjoyment for once before she headed to Knockturn Alley to find the ingredients she needed to ward the house from Boggarts and Dementors once again.

She had found Regina/Regulus just moments before she turned toward the alley.

Her blood boiled.

She was with her brother, laughing at whatever Potter was saying! Walburga pulled her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

How dare she!

Yet she could not do anything for fear of exposing herself.

Moving on from her disgrace of children, she turned toward Knockturn Alley and right into ‘Cobb & Webb’s’ where she had bumped into…

“Peter?” She questioned. His blue eyes darted around the alley.

What is a sixteen year old doing down here? Isn’t this one of Sirius’ friends?

“Why are you here?”

“I, uh, I’m…” he stuttered. “Sirius doesn’t know.”

“Death Eater, are you?” Walburga thought aloud. Peter nodded.

Why in the whole bloody world did Syfrin become friends with the shyest, drawn-back people? SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SLYTHERIN! At least she would have proper friends that…

Walburga stopped herself and looked at the timid Pettigrew with a sinister smile. She pulled them off to the side and sat him on a bench.

“What are they having you do?”

*1978*

When Regina/Regulus was eighteen, the house became empty and quiet.

Walburga had not heard from her baby in weeks.

She had gotten no letters from her about how Hogwarts was going.

No letters from the Death Eater headquarters.

Walburga had waited for Regina to return for months but she knew by now that she was dead.

The tapestry gave it away.

Regina had been a good girl, she did not deserve the cold hands of death.

*1981*

Now here Walburga was, getting ready for the trial of her firstborn.

She had not seen Syfrin in five years. Walburga refused to attend her wedding to Remus Lupin; the monster, the tainted half-blood. He was just another faggot to deal with. She hated that Sirius had the ability to conceive and bear a daughter with that monster. It left a bitter taste in her mouth that he had even considered the blood-traitor and the mudblood half-blood girl as the child’s Uncle and Aunt alongside her brother. She destroyed Sirius' room when Regulus had become a Godfather to those two’s tainted spawn.

Walburga sensed deep inside she was not getting the full story… that someone was lying to her. If she found out that one of her children lied to her, they would feel her wrath. She could handle punishing Syfrin again, but punishing Regina or Narcissa would crush her spirit even more than it had five years ago when she hurt her eldest son. Narcissa and Regina were the ones who followed their footsteps religiously. Cygnus and some boy named Tom had caused Bellatrix to become too far gone. Andromeda went and married a mudblood Hufflepuff; getting herself disowned.

Entering the courtroom, Walburga sat in the front row. She needed to see everything. A sinister smile crept onto her face as she muttered spells that made them not hear Sirius' cries, as well as whatever she said turn to lies. They deserved this. She had murdered her friends in cold blood and that monster of a husband hated them. Peter was out of the picture, her friends were dead, Remus was hated, outcast, and alone. As soon as Sirius was behind bars in Azkaban,

Walburga was free.

Two Aurors dragged Syfrin/Sirius into the courtroom.

It had only been a few months since she had been arrested and time was not nice to her. Walburga could tell she had not slept, that she had been crying and inflicting pain on himself. It made Walburga happy.

If you had just been in Slytherin, none of this would be happening.

Sirius struggled against the restraints, growling menacingly at the Aurors as they struggled to get him in more restraints. He screamed as they threw Crucio spells at him. “I did not do it! It was not me! Are any of you daft bastards listening to me?! You are all full of bullshit and this is fucking… you all need to burn in fucking hell!”

I used to wash your mouth out with soap for that mouth of yours. Can’t believe someone actually kisses your ashtray, liquor filled, vile mouth and those kids of yours are not terrified of their so called parent; a drunk, smoke and drug addicted, vile parent.

Walburga sat there smirking, her eyes trained on her screaming traitor daughter.

Her cries fell on mute ears.

No one was listening.

She put this on himself.

The more she struggled, the happier Walburga was.

He abandoned his families, his brothers, his friends, lovers, and more.

There truly was no one on her side…

There never had been.

The Wizengamont found Sirius guilty and he was dragged out of the courtroom screaming vile curses and laughing maniacally.

Even if you had complied nicely in a calm manner… impossible in this family… they still would have hauled you off. Glad to be rid of you.

Walburga was still smiling as she got home.

It was unsettlingly quiet with all her children gone, her husband, heiress, and brother dead, and her other brother living off on his own. She put her veiled hat down on her bed.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw something that made her skin crawl.

It could not be real…She despised her! Everything about her mother made her skin crawl and her blood boil.

I refused to turn into her! I did everything in my power to be different!

She turned slowly towards the mirror on her vanity dresser pushed toward the far end of the room.

“No.” She whispered.

She approached the mirror slowly, locking eyes with her own reflection. “No.” She repeated, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no!” She was smiling back at herself with the same malicious smile her mother had when she had beaten her. The smile she knew was plastered on her face when she beat her first-born. She screamed as she punched the mirror; shards of glass rained down on her, the vanity, and the green carpet below.

Walburga found herself on her knees screaming through her tears. She blindly reached for her wand, finding it on her vanity in a pile of glass. She let the shards cut her as she picked up her wand and herself then stormed off to Sirius’ room.

She kicked his door open then stood staring at his destroyed Gryffindor decorated room for a moment. Walburga could feel the tears flowing down her cheeks as she ripped photos of Sirius’ friends and himself off the walls…

“TRAITOR!” She screamed.

She tore posters and banners down, destroyed his bed further and wiped all the makeup and ink pots off his vanity. She ripped his clothes from his closet, wanting to burn the dresses he had stolen from his sisters.

“Faggot.” She growled, storming off to Regulus' bedroom.

Her heart shattered when she opened the door to her youngests' room. There was nothing out of place in the room and everything was neatly in its place, yet there was a weird feeling emitting off the walls of the room. Regulus had kept everything straight and tidy, but something still felt off. Walburga tore through the room as the front doors slammed open. Walburga looked up from where she knelt on her daughter's floor.

“Dementors.” She whispered to herself. Walburga shook her head and continued searching through her child's clothes, journals, and closet. She pried open a hide-away door that hadn’t been shut all the way.

“Lumos.”

Her heart broke.

“Alphard!” She growled.

She stood up from the small painting room Regina/Regulus had made, coming face to face with a painting that was full of emotion. It was gold, green, silver, and orange with streaks of black weaving through the colours.

“No.” She whispered, thinking back to her daughter smiling at James in the pub.

She backed up into her hanging suits. A Gryffindor tie fell from one of the hangers. ‘J.P’ was embroidered on the bottom. She picked it up in shaking hands as she bit her bottom lip. Tears threatened to spill. She could hear the Dementors and Death Eaters below tear through her house but she did not care anymore.

Walburga let the tie slip from her hands as she exited the closet and fell to Regulus’ bed in body wracking sobs.

“When did this happen?” She asked herself as her muscles tensed and her body became numb.

No one heard from Walburga Black after the trial.

Dementors and Death Eaters raiding her house for the locket was all over the newspapers.

They had killed her…

Karma killed her.

***

read here

Feel free to comment your thoughts or questions! I am sorry if it does not make a lot of sense or things are confusing, I just wrote what felt right. Hopefully future chapters will help connect some puzzles.

(Updates might be slow and out of place... bear with me, I work an overnight job)

Next up? Lyall Lupin and Hope Howell.

#marauders era #walburga black #sirius black #sirius azkaban #sirius x lupin #regulus black #remus x sirius

9 notes · View notes

stargir1z · 4 years ago

Text

SHE GRABS MY WRIST WHILE SHE’S LAUGHING

A WAVE OF PINK AS HER NAILS MAKE AN INDENT ON MY SKIN

FOOL’S SKIN

SHE’S ONE OF THOSE THAT TURNS ME HARD AND HOLLOW

SHE’S ONE OF THOSE THAT MAKES ME WANT TO BE LESS LIKE WATER

SO SHE COULD WEIGH ME IN HER SMALL HANDS

WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE TO TO LIVE WITHOUT TRYING TO MAKE A PICTURE OF IT TO NOT WANT TO CONGEAL AND CURDLE INTO SOMETHING YOU CAN HOLD CAUSE LIFE IS STARTING TO FEEL LIKE SOMEONE ALWAYS LOOKING A LITTLE LEFT OF MY EYES WHEN THEY’RE TALKING TO ME I MEAN LIKE HOW CAN YOU LOVE SOMETHING THAT’S ALWAYS DRIPPING OUT OF YOUR CLUTCH AND INTO THE KITCHEN SINK UNTIL ITS REMNANTS FEEL LIKE A NUISANCE I JUST WISH YOU WOULD LOOK AT ME I’VE NEVER BEEN LOOKED AT IN ALL OF MY LIFE I KEEP LOOKING AT YOU WON’T YOU LOOK AT ME SEE THE

WAY I GRIND MY JAW WHEN I KNOW I LOVE SOMEBODY JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH WON’T YOU

SEE HOW I FORGIVE ANYTHING THAT MOVES WON’T YOU

KISS MY QUIETNESSES

HIS VACANCY’S TURNED ME INTO A BEGGAR OR THE EMPTY SOUP CAN CARRIED FOR A CHANCE AT A PACKET OF FAGS I’M LOOKING FOR

SOMEONE WHO PLAYS WITH THEIR FINGERS TO FIND THE BEST WAY TO HOLD ALL OF ME BUT FOR NOW TEACH ME HOW TO STOP THE TAP I LEAK INTO DESERTS AND EXPECT THE BIRTH OF A PARADISE ONLY TO GET MY MOUTH DRY AND EYES GLUED TO THE FLOOR

I KILL IT OVER AND OVER AND STILL IT RISES A TIDE OF SICKLINESS YOU’RE SO CUTE I SAY MY KNEES BENT TOWARDS EACH OTHER

I FORGIVE YOU BUT I KEEP CRASHING INTO YOU I SAY I JUST WANNA BE

FULL OF MYSELF

AGAIN BUT NOW I’M

FULL OF YOU

HIM HER YOU YOU YOU

I WANNA BE YOUR COOL GIRL AND YOUR SEX SHOP

YOUR SMOKE BREAK AND YOUR COFFEE POT

BUT BOY WHEN THE DAY COMES FOR ME TO STOP LEAVING THE DOOR AJAR

I WILL WASH MY FACE AND GO TO BED.

#i will post my escaprils here when i do them #mine

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years ago

Text

(A/N- Not my gif. Found this lovely one on Google and have no idea who it belongs to. Let me know if it's yours and I'll credit you.💕)

Warning(s) - ANGST, WAR & mentions of violence, character death.

Quick links- For those who haven't read the Prologue & Part 1, you will find all of them here.

Trip Mines & Broken Hearts [Tommy Shelby x Reader]

Part 2

It wasn't until weeks after that day you saw that blue eyed boy again.

It would have been a lie to say he didn't cross your mind once since then—

When you weren't treating casualties or you were curled in your bunker, your reading glasses plastered to your eyes and an old , tattered book that belonged to your elder brother rested against your thigh, you found yourself thinking of him, wondering if he was doing okay, if he was alive —

A part of you felt guilty— you should have thought of your brothers, prayed for their safety, prayed for the war to get over so you could all go back home, but you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if Thomas Shelby had made it so far, since the last time you saw him.

A few miles away, in a basement of an almost crumbling building, the soldiers of the 8th Service Battalion were trapped. The only exit was blocked by piles of rocks that had come crashing down when a trip mine had exploded, taking the life of a fellow comrade. Tommy stood by the stone wall, leaning against it, holding his body for support, a lit fag in his fingers, his lips belting out smoke as he exhaled. Right in front of his eyes, three of his comrades, which included his brother John, were digging with their bare hands, trying to burrow a hole into the ground so they could get into the other side and get out of this godforsaken place.

Tommy's fingernails were soaked with blood and dust, his nails almost broken for he had been the one trying to dig with his bare hands an hour back and had only taken a break to take a little rest. His observant eyes scanned through the men that were tumbling in and out of his vision, yelling amongst themselves, talking or trying to come up with a plan but his eyes were fixed on one person— Jasper.

He looked just like you, his raven black hair was just the same shade as yours, only shorter. If you decided to one day chop off your locks, you'd pass as his twin. Tommy dumped the cigarette butt to the ground and at the same time, his hand flew to his neck, clasping his fingers against the locket that you had given him. It felt warm against his palm and he knew he should have given it back to the black haired boy in front of his eyes.

Maybe this was meant to be his lucky charm, a token of love from his sister, something that was meant to protect his life. Although he wanted to go and talk to the black haired boy, a part of him did not want to part with the memory he had of you— a part of you that was now clinging to his neck.

Maybe it was his selfishness, or it was just his thoughts of you, the fact that you occupied a corner of his mind more than anyone these days, he bit on his lip hard and kept his mouth shut. He will talk to Jasper, but later — once they were out of this place.

And they did.

Only how—

It was almost twelve hours; the men were hungry, starving beyond their wits and the basement smelt of piss, sweat and blood. Finally, a yell rang through the lads' ears. A hole had finally been dug. They were free— they could go to the other side now. One by one, the men started crawling through the hole and their heads emerged on the other side of the basement, where bright moonlight shone though the glass windows, providing them with respite. There the door was, right in front of their eyes; all they had to do was get out and breathe the fresh air. Anything was better than the stale, bloody air in this place.

Tommy was speaking to his brother when from the corner of his eye, he saw three boys, one of them (Y/N)'s brother. They walked up to the front door, placing their hand on the doorknob, they pulled it open when suddenly, there was a click.

"DUCK!" Tommy screamed at the top of his lungs, as loud as he could, jumping to the ground, shielding himself underneath a table when a loud explosion happened and the screams of the three men in front of him drowned into his ears. His palm flew to the locket that dangled from his neck and a sudden guilt hit him.

"Jasper, no! Fuck, fuck. No." Tommy slid out of his hiding spot, cowering slightly just in case there was any more explosion to happen, making his way through the furniture that was lit on fire around him. There, in front of his eyes, lay the young man, covered in blood and soot, coughing.

Tommy fell on his knees, sliding his hand underneath Jasper's head to lift it up as he could see that he was still breathing, although very faintly.

"Jasper, hold on. We're going to get you to a bloody hospital, you know?"

Breath by breath, Tommy could see life sliding out of the young boy's body and it hurt him.

"Listen, mate, I met your sister, she's at the camp, she's a nurse, a fuckin' good nurse and she will —"

"She has no - no one except m-me and Johnny—" Jasper's breathless voice cut him off, whispering, his voice cracking, his chest heaving up and down.

"Come on, don't you fucking die on me here. I promised her I'll take you to the camp the next time I need fuckin' stitches."

Tommy placed his hands on the young boy's chest, pumping his heart, trying to get him to open his eyes.

"Tommy—" John's voice called out to him but he ignored him.

"Tommy" This time John's voice was loud, causing Tommy to sharply turn his neck towards him. Underneath the layers of blood and soot covering his face, he could see the sadness in John's eyes. "He's gone, Tommy. He's dead." John whispered, his voice barely a whisper.

The darkness surrounded you, but it wasn't peaceful; you could hear the sounds of occasional grenades and trip Mines somewhere at a distance and you could sometimes hear a cry of pain. You had to force yourself to clench your eyes shut and press the pillow tight against your ears to block out any sound. You wondered if life could get any worse than what it already was—

Letting out a frustrated groan, you sat up in bed, rubbing your tired, sleep deprived eyes as you snaked out of bed, your feet touching the floor. Without making any noise, you sneaked out of the bunker, not wanting to wake up anyone inside as you walked out. You looked up at the sky, the moon was shining bright — it was a beautiful full moon; a lovely starry night, but it was ironical how no one could see beauty in it. All we could see was blood, death and cries of pain.

Your arms wrapped around your body instinctively as a chilly breeze hit you, causing a shiver run down your spine. It was then when you heard the sound of the crunching of leaves somewhere across you, causing you to sharply look forward, until the familiar silhouette of the blue eyed boy came in your view.

"Tommy!" You exclaimed, your voice expressing a sudden joy you didn't know you could even feel.

You didn't know why; what connection you had with him but it felt like someone you'd known for ages had finally come back back to you. You ran in his direction, wanting to embrace him.

"You're back! You—" Words stopped from your mouth when you saw him up close. He wasn't happy. His face looked worse than how you'd seen him the last time— yes, physically too but more so, emotionally. You could see a scar in his eyes; you knew something had happened. His eyes were sunken, hollow, his face devoid of any emotion.

"Tommy—" You whispered his name, your words dripping with pain; it was strange to say that you felt it, genuinely, whatever it was that was bothering him. There was a connection and you could feel a pain building inside you as well, looking at him— so distraught.

"Say it," you pleaded with him.You knew he knew that you were in no mood to play games; that you knew that something had happened and you weren't the type of a girl to beat around the bush.

Your eyes moved along with Tommy's hand as he slid it into his pant pocket and pulled something out. Within the next second, you felt his fingers brush against your hand, his hand finally taking a hold of your hand and turning it so your palm was wide open. He then placed something cold against it and you looked down, the silver glistening against your now tear clouded eyes.

Your locket—

You bit your lip.

He was dead, of course he was.

You didn't cry or break down. You looked up at the sky and your lips curled into a weak smile. He was finally free; free of the torture, of watching countless people die and he had died a martyr. You were proud, needless to say. But your heart felt heavy. It didn't matter if he'd died a martyr's death, what mattered was that he was gone— your baby brother was gone and he was never coming back.The next minute you knew, you were on your knees, your face buried against Tommy's chest, his arm holding you gently as he let you whimper against his chest, his hand stroking the back of your head.

"I'm sorry, I'm fucking sorry. It should've been me maybe. I didn't give him the locket, I thought—"

You kept listening, all the while you had your face buried in his chest, a stabbing pain rising in your chest.

"I wanted to keep it for myself. I should've given it to him."

It didn't matter anymore. He was dead.

You don't remember how long you cried for—

It was probably minutes—

But once you were done, you wiped any traces of tears left in your eyes and put on a brave face. You were still sitting on the ground but Tommy was now standing, wondering, if there was anything he could say to you; to comfort you.

You didn't need it—

No amount of words can comfort you, and he knew it.

So he slid his hands into his pocket and turned away, slowly walking away from you.

"Tommy, wait." You weakly called out, and he froze, not turning towards you. You stood up and with slow, dragged steps, you walked up to him and placed your hand on his shoulder, nudging him to turn towards you and face you. He had to fucking face you, you deserved that much. "Look at me, for fucks sake." You hissed, your voice harsh, his body immediately stiffening in response to it. But he did what you asked him to do. Slowly, he turned around and your eyes met his icy blue ones.

He had expected you to slap him, scream at him and curse him but he had least expected you to do what you did then. You swallowed the bile forming in your throat and brought up the locket to his neck, clasping it around, letting it hang from it.

"Although it didn't protect him, I always hope it protects you."

You took a step away from him but this time, he caught your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

"Y-you don't hate me?" His voice was filled with anguish.

"It wasn't your fault. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. If there's anyone to blame, it's me. Instead of praying for them to be safe, I hoped and wondered if you were okay—" You softly whispered, looking down at the floor.

Tommy left the wrist he was holding reluctantly and this time, you gave him a weak smile and turned away. Watching you leave tore through his heart but your words providing his aching heart with a medicine, your words which he'd heard, the fact that you had thought of him, the fact that you'd wanted him to be safe. The fact that you cared for him. You wanted to be alone; to grieve. So he let you be. But he kept standing there, watching you with awe in his eyes. He wondered what he'd done good in life, to meet a woman as pure as you were. And now, a sudden selfish desire filled him up completely.

He wanted you. He needed you now. And he had to have you.

A/N: thank you for all the love I've received so far. And thank you to the creators of the lovely GIFs. 💕

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader fanfiction

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