#grab that man lily

[jennarations]

How is no one talking about alex’s phone case just being a shitty drawing of a car with CAR literally written on it?? 😭😭

[angelicsoka]

THE HAT RULE, t. owens

word count | 1.7k words

pairings | tyler owens x meteorologist!fem!reader

summary | where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is. 

warnings | MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY!! HEAVY smut! reader doesn’t know the hat rule. not proofread. lowercase intended. 

a/n | first of all, sorry for disappearing, i've had NO motivation to write on here, but i saw twisters yesterday and seeing glen powell in a cowboy hat changed me as a person, and also gave me motivation to write. i’ve never written a full smut so i apologize if this sucks, i've stepped out of my comfort zone for this one.

the first time you had ever encountered a tornado was a memory you were sure to never forget. growing up in new york meant rain and snow but no tornadoes. so when traveling to nebraska on a field trip in high school, you were unprepared when the sirens sounded, sending everyone into a frenzy. you had watched as the rain pelted from the sky, a funnel forming up above. you were mesmerized as your teacher pulled you to safety, a sort of thrill tearing through  your body. from that moment on, you knew what you wanted to do. you went to college for meteorology, graduating near top of your class before going onto to work at a local news station. but it never quite settled the feeling that something was missing, until you stumbled across tyler owens’ youtube channel. 

tyler owens had become a sensation, a daredevil who did more than just chase the storms, he rode into them. and that seemed to heighten that need of a thrill. so, you hit him up and to your surprise, he replied. and what had started out as a week off of work to storm chase with the daredevil, turned to going part time at your job and joining him on the road.

that was a season ago, and now you were sat at a dingy bar, sipping a beer with tyler and the team. the man himself was sat on the stool next to you, nursing his own beer and listening to lily speak. you ignored the slight butterflies that entered your stomach as he laughed. you had learned to never mix work and love, but something about tyler had you questioning that lesson. he looked mighty fine in his blue jeans and button up, supporting a cowboy’s hat on his head. you noticed your beer was gone, standing up you turned to your crew.

“i'm gonna get another beer, can i get anyone anything?” no’s were murmured around the group except for one.

“i could use another, how ‘bout i come with ya?” you shrugged, tyler getting up to walk with you. lily let out a low whistle, stopping at your glare. 

“be my guest.” you two walked over to the bar top, signaling the busy bartender. “can we get two more, when you get a sec?” the bartender nodded, going to make a few drinks before he could grab their bottles. 

“so, miss city girl, how you likin’ riding with us? ready to go back to the big apple yet?” tyler questioned, turning to look down at you slightly. damn the height difference.

“don’t think you’re getting rid of me that quick, i have a lot more storm chasing left in me, cowboy.” you winked, tyler laughing. you debated for just a moment before reaching up and taking the cowboy hat from his head.

“the hell you think you’re doing?” tyler questioned as you placed the hat on your own head, admiring your reflection on your phone.

“you wear this hat all the damn time, i just wanted to see if there was something special about it? maybe it has some magical powers or something.” the bartender came back around, beer bottles in hand. you thanked him, handing him some cash before turning back to tyler, who had an odd look in his eye. you quickly took off the hat, worried you had pissed him. you went to hand it back to him, when tyler shook his head:

“keep it on, it suits you.” tyler picked up his beer, beginning back to the table. the comment caused a light blush to dust your cheeks. shaking your head, you hoped it didn't show too much as you followed him back. you sat in your seat, confused by the odd looks you received from the crew. nobody said anything about the hat as the night went on, but that didn’t stop the odd looks.

by last call, it was you and tyler left of the crew. thankfully the bar was across the street from the motel, tyler paying the tab much to your protest, before setting off back to the motel. you had forgotten you still wore tyler’s hat upon your head, only remembering when you went to brush your hair from your eyes, your hand bumping the rim. “hey, do you know why everyone kept giving me weird looks after i put your hat on? and why boone and dani wouldn’t stop snickering?” tyler looked over to you as you climbed the stairs of the motel.

“you don't know?” you shook your head in response, tyler holding a bewildered look. “you don't know the hat rule?”

“there’s a hat rule?” tyler stopped at his door, which neighbors your’s and lily’s. “what?”

“you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” he deadpanned, your eyes widening and a heavy blush coating your cheeks. 

“oh my god! i promise i wasn’t trying to imply that or anything. not there’s anything wrong with you, because you’re– well you’re you, and–”  you fumbled over your words, stopping mid sentence when tyler laughed.

“hey, it's fine. if you weren’t trying to insinuate that, that’s fine. but if you were, well, now's your chance. and i’d be more than happy to show you how that rule works.” tyler walked closer, a minimal amount of space between you, just enough to allow you to choose whether you close that gap or leave. 

you stood there for a moment, stunned at his offer. and without much thought, you closed the gap, hands going to grip his face and pull him closer to you. his hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts. the kiss was feverish, all unspoken feelings surfacing. tyler began to pull away much to your dismay, one hand leaving your hip to fish out his keys from his pocket as he moved his other arm to hold your waist. he unlocked the door with ease, pulling you inside and shutting the door before pushing you up against it, the hat falling as he did so. he went to town on your neck, enticing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. the way he sucked at your neck and how he had previously handled you had conjured up a pool of wetness in your panties. 

your arm wrapped around his neck, holding him to your throat, as your fingers tugged at his hair. he groaned against your skin, biting down ever so softly when you tugged on his hair. he gripped at your leg, pulling it up to give him better access to your cunt. he rubbed his clothed cock along you covered cunt, pleased with the moans that escaped your mouth.

“god, keep moaning like that and i might have to take you right here.” you blushed once more, pulling tyler to meet your lips once more. you pushed off the door, lips still connected to tyler’s as you blindly pushed him back to the bed. his legs hit the edge of the bed, tyler breaking the kiss as he pulled off your shirt, both of you kicking off your shoes and socks before lips were reattached once more. 

you pulled back, tyler unbutton his shirt as you began to work on his belt buckle. “woah, easy, pretty girl. you’ll get a taste, don’t worry. the night’s still young. but for now, i gotta show ya what happens when ya wear the hat.” tyler pulled off his shirt, walking to pick up the forgotten hat, placing it on your head. “this stays on.” you nodded, eyes hooded as tyler pulled your shorts and panties down. “you’re even more perfect than i had imagined.” before you could question him, tyler pulled his jeans off, his boxers next as his cock sprung up. tossing them to the side tyler pulled you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure ‘bout this? i don’t have any condoms.” tyler asked, different from how he just was. you nodded, kissing him softly.

“i’m on the pill, and i trust you.” tyler nodded, holding over his cock as he slowly guided it along your pussy. you held yourself up as tyler’s thumb rubbing your clit, enjoying your whimpers. “please, tyler.” you begged, tyler aligning his cock with your entrance before guiding you down. you hand went your hat as your head rested on tyler’s shoulder, almost pornographic moans escaping from your lips. “oh my god.” he slowly eased himself into you, whispering praises as he did so.

“god, feels like you were made for me.” your cunt hugged his cock beautifully. when his cock was fully in, he allowed you to get used to the stretch, “tell me when you're ready.” you stilled for a moment, adjusting to his size. you kissed and sucked on his neck, slowly beginning to rock your hips. “fuck, let’s get this off of ya.” tyler’s hands skillfully unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, fingers ghosting over your perky nipples. you pulled off his shoulder, giving him better access to your tits. “you’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.” tyler attached his mouth to one of your nipples, enticing a soft moan. you continued to ride him, hips moving faster as you chased your incoming orgasm. your left hand gripped tyler’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his bare skin as your right hand held onto the hat that adorned your head. 

as your orgasm inched closer and closer, your movements became more erratic, chasing your high. tyler moaned, whispering praises as your walls clenched around his cock. he knew you were close, mouth moving to your pulse point as he pounded into you, taking over. tyler clapped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit, muffling your screams so you didn't wake up your neighbors. his movements however did not slow as he worked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. your legs trembled as he continued to pound into you, your second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. “fuck! fuck, ty-” you cut yourself off, body shaking as you hit your climax once more. tyler began to huff and moan, pulling you impossibly closer as he reached his own high. you blubbered, unable to form actual words as tyler’s hands roamed your body. you pulled back, kissing him roughly.

“goddamn,” he helped you off his cock, helping guide you onto the bed, “think you’ll be able to handle a round two?”

“don’t go thinking you can get rid of me that easily.” 

[lalunanymph]

THE CHAMPION'S PRIZE

✧₊⁺ SUMMARY the crow wins against kane and decides he wants to claim his most precious prize—you.

✧₊⁺ WARNINGS first time, mention of injuries, mention of blood, size kink, cunninglingus, big dick sylus!, sylus king of consent, semi-public sex, brief mention of handjob, oral sex, possessive, pet names (sweetie, little dove, kitten, little one, baby), voice kink, sweat kink, nipple play, girl on top, missionary, sex on the floor, unprotected sex, creampies, mc and sylus are both idiots in yearning, mild angst if you squint, 18+, mdni

✧₊⁺ DAWN SAYS if you know me... you know i love my ufc aus.... the second i saw boxer!sylus in his new card i ran to my google docs and birthed this not so h0rny piece

✧₊⁺ A03 | x/twt

The cheers of the crowds erupting from the stands vibrated through the soles of your boots.

Formidable and cocky, Sylus approaches the side of the ring, shouts and boos from the spectators gathering today, lending to the erratic yet eclectic atmosphere of this surreal championship fight. Before he enters, he takes something in his hand and kisses it, dropping it back into the safety of his short’s pocket. It’s the pouch you gave him weeks ago, the blessing of a grassland warrior’s lover bestowed onto him for this momentous night.

You’re my lucky charm, sweetie, he had texted you a few days ago when he told you to come meet him for a boxing showcase. And I want my lucky charm right there in the stands where I can see her. 

Your grip tightens on the bouquet of flowers you were holding, heart right in your throat as Sylus’s opponent enters the ring, too, and much to your consternation, he receives a bigger round of screams. He’s stocky and broad, the same height as the red-eyed menace who invited you to visit his boxing showcase right in the heart of the N109 Zone. As the bell rings, you hold your breath with the crowd. Sylus is fast and sure, his movements fluid and punches almost mesmerizing.

He moves like poetry in motion—if poetry could leave a man with a black eye and bruises, lying face down on the ring, unconscious before the second timer could go off, that is. The referee cards his win and blows the whistle. The crowd shakes and moves, their cheers and sounds reaching to the highest point of the domed ring.

It’s chaos out in the front, and you have to protect your bouquet from getting squashed by the numerous bodies thronging in the front. Suddenly, a hand shoots out to grab your arm and you find yourself right at the corner of the ring, a smug and sweaty Sylus grinning at you. You hesitate to step closer, aware of the numerous eyes on him and you. Word could get back to the Association and your return to Linkon could be sabotaged—there’s too much at stake to be seen with Sylus in broad daylight. 

But, the notorious leader couldn’t care less, gesturing for you to come closer. There's a bit of dirt on his face and you take it upon yourself to rub it off, shooting him a grin. 

“Congratulations, champion!” You enthuse, shoving the bouquet right in his face. Sylus grins and takes the arrangement of lilies, tulips and datura from your hand, tossing you a cocky smirk.

“Is that all a champion should get?” he teases, and you shake your head in mirth, crossing your arms right in front of you. 

“What else would the champion want, pray tell?”

In answer, Sylus takes your hand in his, his palm much larger and scarred compared to yours. His knuckles are red raw, and you take it upon yourself to lift them to your lips, kissing the contused flesh softly. “Are you hurt?”

“If you keep that up, kitten, I won't be,” he laughs, and you roll your eyes, smacking his chest lightly. 

Cad, you tease and he smirks again, wrapping an arm around your waist. The championship ring on his finger shines under the blinding lights, and Sylus notices how overwhelmed you're getting. The way you fidget and shift your eyes, and how you're clinging tightly to the rope of the ring, makes him think he needs to distract you for a bit.

“The flowers. How thoughtful. I feel like I should give you something in return.” He notices the way your eyes linger on the ring, and he grins wider. “Do you like the champion's ring? It's yours now.” 

He removes the bulky circle and gently takes your hand, thumb softly brushing the rise of your ring finger knuckle. He slides the ring onto your finger, taking his time to admire how sweet the circlet looks contrasting with your skin. 

“There. The Champion's ring for the champion's lover.”

Your ears heat up at his words and you toss him a quick scoff, trying hard to keep the embarrassed delight from showing too apparently on your face. “You're a tease.”

“Am I now?” He takes your hand in his again, and tugs you closer to him. Close enough you have to stumble past the boxing ring ropes. Sylus is decisive when he tugs you closer to him, almost leading you right into his Champion's Box, where the world and the strobing lights fade away. Inside the VIP room, the bruises and cuts become more apparent. 

“Sylus—”

Panic consumes you, and he lets your distress marinate, playfully not reminding you how easily he could heal himself; loving how sweetly you fret on him. 

“You're hurt.” Tersely, you pick up the first aid kit by the side of the door, rummaging inside for antiseptic and bandages. 

“You're cute when you're worried about me, kitten.” He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, touch tender despite the violence you just witnessed a few minutes ago. You ignore his jab, focusing on dabbing the freely flowing blood from a cut on his face. Sylus staves off his body loudly blaring at him to use his healing tendencies. But, despite how badly his skin is itching to close the wound, he still wants you to treat him. 

You notice him staring at you and chuckle, a playful gleam in your eye. “What?” 

“Nothing. You’re beautiful.”

You pause from swiping on antiseptic onto a cotton roll, wondering if the punches he sustained in the ring were finally starting to manifest in the form of his boldness.

“And you… have been hit in the head one too many times.”

Not one to be deterred, Sylus chuckles and snakes his arm around your waist, dragging you right onto his lap where you fall forward in a huff, eyes growing wide at how close his lips are to yours. 

“Sweetie,” he speaks and you can practically feel him breathing on you. “I might have sustained a few injuries, but none of them severe enough to not give you credit where credit is due.” He lifts his hand to a loose lock of your hair, his smirk deepening. “And you, my little dove, were an absolute vision on the stands. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” 

His thumb touches your lower lip, and you instinctively part your mouth. Sylus’s eyes darken with desire at your little subconscious tick, his mind pumping full of lewd thoughts which he tries to put off. Not wanting to scare you too soon.

Instead, he tilts his head closer, waiting for you to make the first move. The tantalizing sight of his lips is too much for you to resist, and you take his bait, closing in to where your breaths meet as one. 

Sylus groans into the heat of your mouth, the taste of you after so many years of yearning rendering him speechless and needy. He’d imagine this exact scenario a million times, yet the reality of it happening makes it that much sweeter. You taste like pomegranates and sin, a heady combination which makes his blood sing, body tensing at the onslaught of arousal flooding his veins.

You pull back slightly, the red string of fate manifesting as a single strand of saliva connecting you two together. Sylus greedily snapped it with a flick of his tongue, tasting your growing desire.

“Kitten…?”

He was usually more glib than this. But, the way you stare at him, eyes warm and melting with affection, makes any smart remark he has left in his arsenal shrivel up and die. Sylus swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and your eyes trail to that subtle movement. 

Without thinking, you touch the base of his neck, gingerly thumbing the swell of his throat. Sylus isn’t in the least concerned to hide his shiver from you, those ruby eyes seeming to glow with restraint as he lets you have your fill of exploring him. The sweat beading down his chest trickles past his red tank top, and your eyes follow the droplet’s motion; wondering what was waiting for you underneath… if he would let you explore him again like you did that night in his shower.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” His voice, deep enough to be a rumble, vibrates against your chest. He lifts your head to meet his eyes, and in those ruby hues, a devastating hunger was waiting for permission to gorge on you. “That night in the shower… how I had to restrain myself from taking you right there and then. You really are a tease, kitten.”

Sylus traces the outline of your lips with his thumb as his voice turns rougher. 

“Imagining what it would be like to have this soft mouth on mine… how you would sound… the look on your face when I finally claim you as mine… all… mine…”

Lower, and deeper. His voice hypnotizes you to give into your full desire, and you knew in the deepest recesses of your soul, that his Aether eye didn’t need to gouge the truth from you.

You want Sylus, in his entirety and totality. You want him like you want to quench your thirst. 

The collision of your lips together brought sparks flying from the deepest roots of your mind, connecting to your fingertips which tangle right in his hair, drawing him closer. Sylus is always careful to never scare you off with his brute strength, and in this moment, he couldn’t resist hoisting you up into his arms, pressing you right against the wall like he did the first time the two of you showered together.

Devouring your lips with a slow sensuality he reserves only for playing with his prey, Sylus teases your tongue with his, tasting the ridges of your mouth and unearthing more delightful, soft mewls and moans from you. 

“Do you feel this, kitten?” He whispers, and to your surprise, grabs your hand, placing it right on the bulge of his crotch. “This is all my desire for you—all of my wanting for you. I need you, kitten. I will never get enough of you.”

Yearning encroaches his admission, and you glance up into his love sick eyes, feeling a wave of desire surmounting your need to be cautious. There is nothing in this moment you want than to give all of you to him, but the fear of being found out—of being hunted—takes precedence in your wavering mind.

As if reading your thoughts, Sylus removes your hand from the throbbing heat of the tent in his shorts and brings it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles reverently. “I know this is a lot to consider, little dove, but take your time. I’ll be here waiting for you—always.”

The truth is, you didn’t want him to wait. Sylus has been nothing but patient in his endeavors to court you. It’s about time you return the favor. 

The moonlight shines through the blooms hanging from the edge of the table, highlighting the two figures entangled on the floor, their lips pressing insistently onto one another, bodies and breaths twining as one. 

He tastes like sin and danger, a hint of whiskey on his breath. But, you drink him up, growing drunker on his unceasing devotion. Sylus feels you tugging on the edge of his tank top, and obeys you without a word, lifting it off his toned torso and tossing it to the other side of the room. You touch the dips and divots of his chest, committing the shape of him to your memory.

Sylus thinks it’s time for you to return the favor and smirks, sliding his hand underneath your blouse. He runs warm, his touch drawing goosebumps down your arms. It’s a strain for you to hold back when you nod, the urge to take it slow yet have him completely rendering you paralyzed with inaction.

But, Sylus has got you. He takes your consent inch by inch, letting your skin appear to him in a slow creep of growing anticipation. 

Once you’re down to your bra, Sylus takes the chance to plant soft and warm kisses on your chest and shoulders, his touch gentle yet clear with his intention to take you.

“Can I look at you, sweetie?” He tugs on the cup, crimson eyes never leaving your expression. You nod, flushing when he unhooks your bra, letting the bothersome material slide down your arms, revealing your bare breasts to him.

For a man who’s used to getting what he wants, Sylus’s touches are colored with hesitation as he slowly drags his fingertips down your shoulder, sliding closer to your heaving mounds.

“May I?” His voice, a deep, reassuring rumble, instantly puts your fears at ease. 

“Yes,” you whisper, and it’s the consent he needs to run the edge of his nails over the swell of your tits, finding how they move with each breath mesmerizing.

“Can I… suck on them?” 

Your breathing catches, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly you nod. “Yes… please,” you add politely. He smiles at the touch of submission in your tone, loving how you’re trusting him explicitly with this first experience. Sylus takes care to taste you like you’re a rare, exotic fruit in his lap, his tongue running across the soft flesh of your most sensitive areas, leaving behind little hickies for you to find tomorrow like a reminder of this moment you shared with each other.

You moan when he slowly explores the shape of your turgid bud with his tongue, sucking with enough pressure to get you grinding down on his bulge. “Mhm,” he releases your nipple with a soft pop, “Doll… you’re driving me crazy.”

He takes his time with your other nipple, pinching and rolling the other one with his free hand.

“Sylus… yes…” your whispers incite him to give you more; needing to hear his name rolling from your tongue. 

The heat is simmering, building to an unbearable crescendo. This time, you lick a droplet of sweat running down his jaw, inciting a deep chuckle to rumble against your throat.

“You naughty, naughty kitten.”

He trails one long, nimble finger to the heart of your arousal, gently parting your folds to find the treasure he wants to tease. You’re so wet, your body doesn’t need much coaxing to accept his finger, the tight opening of your muscles relenting to allow him to sink his middle digit knuckle-deep inside of you. With his thumb, he rubs your clit in unbroken circles, enjoying your puffs of hot breath against his neck. You feel him growing harder, his desire to claim you unmistakable. 

To his surprise, you tug the band of his shorts down, revealing his throbbing need for you. The sight of your smaller hand grasping his thick base shoots a bolt of desire through his entire body, the cool metal of the ring he gave you sliding up and down his shaft enough to make him hiss and wince.

“Kitten… you’re playing a dangerous game.”

His chest heaves with unabashed yearning, and he licks his lips when he sees the glassy look in your eyes, your mouth wet with want as you slowly lower your head to his cock. Sylus has no choice but to retract his fingers from your loving depths as he sinks his hand in your hair, cursing under his breath when you stretch your mouth around his tip. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, running his free hand through his messy mop of silver hair. God… you were much too tempting, ready for the picking.

The sight of your cherry red lips wrapped lovingly around his cock is enough to send his mind into a dizzying spiral of lust, blood pumping rapidly south. He grows and thickens in your mouth, the taste of him almost musky and sweet with a hint of salt from his sweat. Sylus groans when you run your tongue over his balls, his entire body tensing in anticipation when you bring one soft globe into your mouth. 

He takes a few moments to enjoy the feel of your warm mouth on him, before he switches up the game and puts you on your back this time.

“As much as I love the thought, kitten, I think you’d taste better,” he murmurs as he trails his obscenely long fingers up your thighs, unbuttoning your jeans in one swift movement. 

“Sylus,” you gasp when he tugs it down, revealing the captivating lace hugging your hips almost lovingly. He takes his time to admire you, cock throbbing and aching to sink right into you. But, he has to warm you up to him first. It won’t be an easy fit.

He shushes you, hooking his thumb under the band of your panties, dragging down the last barrier protecting your modesty from him.

“Trust me, kitten.” The sight of him kneeling right in between your thighs, kissing the plush flesh reverently, burns through you with desire. “I would rather make you feel good instead.”

And his mouth was on you. His tongue parting through your folds, teasing your clit, drives you wild with desire, sparks running down your spine. 

You taste so good… he murmurs. You’re doing so well for me, doll. So well. His voice is deep enough to vibrate through your cunt. His tongue moves inside of you, deep enough to touch a special spot which makes your toes curl. 

Mhm… Sylus… more… 

Who was he to say no to you? Sylus is putty in your hands, willing to give you everything and anything. 

He delves deeper, taking his sweet time to sample your wetness and submission. He curls his tongue, latching on your clit to suckle on the tight bud which makes your toes curl, heels digging deeper into the back. 

Maybe for your next trinket, I should get an anklet with my name, he mumbles, planting a brief kiss on your ankle, the thought exciting him. The image of his name sparkling off your skin, glinting with his claim on you, makes him hard enough to cut through steel. 

You nod, mouth parting to pant out his name. Yes… please…

You’re so good for him. Sylus wants to reward you, and he does so with a tender kiss to your clit. 

“Please, Sylus,” you whimper, clipping your hips against his. “Want more… need more…”

So eager, he chuckles under his breath, but he could never deny what you need. He slips off his boxer shorts and his underwear, tossing it to the floor. It’s not everyday the great Onychinus leader would bare himself for anyone’s eyes. But, you weren’t just anyone.

You were his beloved, his love, his shivanika. 

The only one who is allowed to see him like this.

Your eyes widen at how much bigger he is up close, weighing heavily on your thigh.

Is that all…?

“Why?” He teases. “Can’t take it all?” 

You swallow. Part of you thinks you can’t, but the other part—the stubborn one—knows you would do anything for him.

“I’ll go slow,” he says, as if he can read your mind. “I won’t hurt you, sweetie.”

He’s so incredibly big, you wonder how you’ve never noticed it before. The thick trunk of his forearm braces beside your head, his powerful thighs planted on either side of you. In the circle of his embrace, you feel small and delicate like a flower waiting to be uprooted by a great tree.

It enthralls you. It scares you. 

His kisses soothe you, taking your mind off his great, hulking physique. 

You dig your nails into his biceps, hanging for dear life as he preps himself to enter you. He runs his tip through your folds, smearing your juices with his pre-cum. Slapping the weight of him on your clit, again and again, each jolt driving your hips up to meet his.

Sylus… you mewl his name. Need it… need it inside…

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs sweetly, “I’ll give it to you.”

You see a sliver of his smile as he cranes his head down, kissing your jaw reverently. You weren’t joking when you said you were terrified of his cock, but Sylus took his sweet time to prepare you for him.

The first stretch always hurts the most, and he makes sure to deepen his kiss as a distraction.

It works. Sort of. 

You tighten involuntarily around him, and he hisses under his breath, brows knitted together. “You’re still tense… relax, sweetie. Or else, I can’t get in.”

To help you, he sucks on the tip of his index and middle finger, drawing them slickly towards your core. He massages your clit with feathery soft circles, stimulating you over and over again until you’re whimpering and shaking.

“Does it feel good?” He hums into the crook of your neck and you nod, embarrassed at how easily it is for him to slip deeper inside. “Mhm… you’re loosening up just nice for me, kitten.”

It’s insane how much his voice vibrating against your throat is driving you wild. 

Desire coats your begging—Please, Sylus. I need more… more…

Deciding you’re ready enough, he nods, crimson eyes softening at the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

No need to cry, sweetie. I’ve got you.

The smell of him, musk and sweat, envelopes you as he curves his body over yours, intent on driving you crazy with how close he is. But, he’s never close enough.

Until, finally, he’s pressed inside you, skin-to-skin, breath-to-breath, buried right to the hilt. It’s a mess between your thighs, slick and pre-cum staining your thighs, drawing a lewd symphony of wet squelches when he finally begins to move. 

Thrusts so deep, you feel it right in the heart of your desire. It turns you on, to have him invading your senses like this. The scent of him burning your nose, the taste of his tongue heavy in your mouth. Staining you with the very essence of him till your pores are heavy with his presence; your entire body marked with him. 

Sylus doesn’t hold back any longer, the beast inside of him unleashed the second you murmured your assent for him to have you in every way possible.

So good for me, baby. You feel like a dream, he whispers. Good girl—letting your lover have you like this. You’re so good for me, aren’t you, little one? 

Your eyes flicker to where he’s stretching you out and he chuckles, noticing your minute gestures.

You like watching me, huh? As he speaks, his cock sinks deeper inside of your warm depths, the both of you hissing at the same time. Mhm, fuck… dirty little girl. 

The spark of degradation reminds you again who exactly is fucking you. A dark man, wanted for his misdeeds, and yet here he was with you on the floor, entangled with your body and taking the last of your innocence away. You force the thoughts away, focusing on the now.

The now of having Sylus in your arms, feeling his devotion marking the delicate skin of your neck, leaving his claim on your skin. 

That’s it… you’re doing so well for me…

You always had an inkling of how good Sylus is at talking, but you never expected for him to be this glib while balls-deep in you.

Feels like a dream, kitten. I love you.

Your breath catches right in your throat.

Did he just…?

Sylus’s ruby eyes warm at the confused look on your face, and he slows his thrusts, nuzzling your jaw.

“Yes. You heard right—I love you. I love you. Is that so hard to believe?” 

He doesn’t wait for you to reply, focusing on giving himself to you. A part of him holds no hope for your response, but he’s taken aback when you tip his face closer, drawing his mouth to yours like a moth to a flame.

Your kiss burns through him, and he moans when you taste his lower lip, your honeyed whisper of reciprocation enough to bring him to his knees.

“I love you, too.”

Sylus groans, letting his head fall on your shoulder, the protective arch of his body drawing you closer into his arms. 

Kiss me, kitten… kiss me and never regret me again.

You behave so well for him, following his every instruction. Even ones you don’t exactly understand. 

Your lips seal on his like a covenant, and his blessing is given in the form of his seed pumping hotly into your depths; the feeling of your walls squeezing him tightly enough to bring him to the pearly white gates.

Fuck, kitten—he gasps and it’s all mounting again. Getting hotter and better.

His voice is tinged with desire, breathy and deep as he noses your hair. 

You’ll be the death of me, Y/N. 

Of all the names he loves calling you, your own name would forever be the sweetest utterance on his lips.

Please… you gasp, needing to feel more. 

You’re so greedy, it’s almost unlike you. But, you know Sylus is a giver. He will always give you what you need. 

I got you, he rumbles, and the mixture of slick and his cum spills down to the ground, staining your thighs. He doesn’t let up, fully needing to have you cream on him till you’re spent. 

He feels how close you are from the tensing of your thighs, your body poised at the edge again. Ready to take him. 

And he can’t hold back. You were like the sweetest addiction he would always relent to.

Come for me, you murmur and it shocks him—this unexpected boldness. Come inside me, Sylus… make me yours.

Yours… yours… you were always his. And this confirms it. You and him were tied together in a red string of fate, packaged neatly as soulmates in this life and for every life that would come.

No matter if it kills him. No matter if he would lose his heart again.

It was always yours in the first place.

Sylus leaves you with his burgeoning warmth, ropes of it shooting inside of you as you come for him again—fully, completely and wholly his.

Beginning till end, from time immemorial. You would always have his heart. 

He stays deep inside you until it’s done, leaving lazy kisses on your face, on your chest and lips. The crowds have long disappeared, this room cordoned off by his organization to give him space.

His men know better than to barge in, and the organizers are wise enough to stay out of the champion’s way if they know what’s good for them. 

“I’m so… full,” you whisper, twitching your hips. “Full of you.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, and leans down on his bruising elbows to plant a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Is that a complaint I hear, kitten?” 

You shake your head, the movement setting dull sparks of desire shooting into his lower body when he feels your walls tensing around his softening cock. 

Good, he swipes his thumb over your cheek, catching a stray sweat droplet before it could fall to the ground. Because I’m far from done with you, kitten.

When he kisses you this time, it tastes of a promise already fulfilled.

feedback and reblogs are much loved!! thank you for your support <3

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or claim as your own. do not feed my works to AI.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Too Much Like Me

Potter!Reader tells her dad she's been asked on a date.

Summary: James finds out Lily's type in men is apparently genetic.

Wc: ~1.7k

CW: Just chaotic fluffy hijinks - a jab about Americans

“Dad.” You trailed James into the kitchen, fighting to keep your voice calm despite the storm brewing ahead.

But James Potter, in all his dramatic glory, had gone entirely deaf. Arms flailing like a prophet warning of doom, he roared, “Family meeting!”

“No! No family meeting!” you yelped, lunging for his arm. You barely stifled a laugh as he flailed harder, like a fish trying to escape the net.

James spun around, courtroom-drama style, and gasped at you with the intensity of someone catching their child red-handed with a cursed artifact. “Fred Weasley? Our Fred Weasley? That Fred Weasley?”

“Yes, that Fred Weasley,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “Merlin’s saggy balls, I regret telling you already.”

James slammed his hand on the counter for emphasis, pivoting toward the sitting room like a man possessed. “Lily!” he thundered, shaking the walls. “Lily, get in here! Your daughter’s lost her mind!”

“Dad, for Merlin’s sake!” You tried to grab him again, but James had started pacing now, looking like a wizard unjustly accused of crimes against decorum.

“Not in my house! Not under my roof!” He spun around, hazel eyes bulging with a level of betrayal that deserved an award. “Fred Weasley doesn’t know the meaning of curfew! Or- Merlin help us- a respectable bedtime! Do you think I’m letting that chaos into my family? After all I’ve sacrificed? For you?”

“James,” came Lily’s voice, calm but laced with amusement. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, her lips twitching. “What are you yelling about this time?”

James turned to her, a man on the brink. “Fred Weasley! He asked her out! Our daughter! On a date! Alone! With no chaperone!”

Lily blinked, then turned to you with a grin brighter than a Patronus. “Oh!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up. “He finally asked?”

James froze mid-tirade, pointing an accusatory finger at his wife. “Finally? What do you mean, finally? Have you been... supporting this? Encouraging it?”

Lily shrugged, her grin widening as she pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the kitchen. “He’s a lovely boy, James. Polite, clever, charming. He reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“Don’t you dare—” James began, his tone low and dangerous.

“You,” Lily finished brightly, jabbing him in the chest. “Fred’s just like you were. All mischief and charm. No wonder she likes him.”

James gawked at her like she’d suggested selling their house to a pack of trolls. “That’s exactly why she can’t date him! I was Fred Weasley, Lily! Do you know what I would’ve done if someone let me date their daughter?”

“You married her,” Lily said sweetly, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, winking at you as it effectively stunned the red mess that was your father.

James froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, completely derailed by Lily’s well-placed jab and affectionate kiss. He finally managed to sputter, “That’s- That’s completely different!”

“How, exactly?” Lily teased, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms again. “Because if I recall correctly, you were a menace, Potter. A charming menace, but a menace nonetheless. Fred’s cut from the same cloth, and you turned out all right.”

James spluttered, gesturing wildly at you. “Because this is my daughter! She’s not supposed to fall for charmers like Fred Weasley! I can’t just let this happen! Where’s the fatherly dignity in that?”

“Oh, James,” Lily sighed, patting his shoulder with exaggerated pity. “I hate to break it to you, but you lost your ‘fatherly dignity’ the day you wore those matching Christmas jumpers with Sirius.”

“That was solidarity!” James barked, his ears reddening as he straightened his posture in a futile attempt at reclaiming authority. “And anyway, this is different. I’m supposed to protect her! Shield her from the heartbreakers and mischief-makers of the world.”

“Fred’s not a heartbreaker, Dad,” you said, exasperated but amused. “He’s actually- dare I say- nice? And maybe even mature? A little bit?”

James looked like he might faint. “Mature?! You’re telling me Fred Weasley- the bloke who turned all the Quidditch goalposts into giant marshmallows- is mature?! What next? He’s taken up knitting?”

“Knitting would be a good look for him,” Lily quipped, clearly enjoying herself. “Very soothing hobby. He could knit you a jumper, James, to match that dignity you’ve misplaced.”

You couldn’t help but snort at the visual, and James threw his hands up, pacing the kitchen again. “I can’t believe this. I’m being outnumbered in my own home.”

“It’s called democracy- like the Americans,” Lily said, smirking as she leaned against the counter. “And right now, you’re the losing party.”

James stopped pacing to glare at her. “Fred acts like a damned American..” He mumbled before he raised his voice. “This is treason. Pure, unadulterated treason.”

“James,” Lily replied patiently, though her lips twitched with amusement. “You’ll survive.”

At that moment, Harry wandered into the kitchen, his face set in curious confusion as he surveyed the scene. He held a plate of leftover treacle tart, chewing leisurely. “What’s with all the shouting, then?” He asked, his tone disinterested but his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

James immediately pounced, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Your sister has decided to go on a date with Fred Weasley, Harry! Fred Weasley! What do you have to say about that?”

Harry blinked at him, clearly trying to piece together the situation. Then his gaze slid to you, and his smirk grew as he swallowed a bite of tart. “Fred, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Nice. Bold choice. Never a dull moment with a Weasley.”

“Bold-? Harry!” James looked genuinely wounded. “This is a betrayal! Your own sister-"

“Is an adult,” Harry interrupted, shrugging. “And you’re acting like she’s run off to marry Voldemort’s ghost.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” you muttered under your breath, earning a snort from Harry.

“Not helping, Harry!” James barked, looking thoroughly frazzled now. He pointed at you again. “Fine! Go on your date! But I’m watching him. One toe out of line, and-”

���And what?” you challenged, grinning now as Lily watched on, clearly entertained. “You’ll duel him? Turn him into a marshmallow like his Quidditch goalposts?”

James opened his mouth, floundering for a retort, but Lily stepped in, tugging him gently away from the center of the chaos. “Come on, love,” she cooed soothingly. “Why don’t we sit down, have a cuppa, and let the kids handle their own lives for once?”

James sighed, finally deflating. “Fine,” he grumbled, shooting you one last suspicious look. “But mark my words- an eye for an eye! Harry, date his younger sister!”

Harry froze, the bite of treacle tart halfway to his mouth as the words sunk in. His eyes darted between you, Lily, and James, clearly trying to figure out if this was his moment to fess up or quietly Disapparate.

“What?” James demanded, noticing Harry’s hesitation. “What’s with that face? Don’t tell me you’ve already thought about it!”

Lily covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You, on the other hand, burst out laughing immediately, doubling over as the image of James putting two and two together hit you.

“Why are you laughing?” James barked, looking between the two of you like he was missing the punchline to a joke everyone else got. “What’s so funny? Harry, explain yourself!”

Harry, clearly seeing no way out, sighed and placed his plate of treacle tart on the counter. “Dad,” he started, bracing himself, “I’m already dating Ginny.”

James froze. Completely, utterly froze. His jaw hung slack, his hands hovering mid-air like a malfunctioning automaton.

“You’re what?” He whispered, his voice teetering on the edge of shock and betrayal.

You howled with laughter, tears forming in your eyes. “Oh, Merlin, this is priceless!” You gasped. “Dad, your face- your face!"

“James, breathe,” Lily advised through her own laughter, leaning against the counter for support. “You’re going to give yourself a stroke.”

James finally snapped out of his trance, his eyes narrowing into sharp points of indignation. “Ginny?! Ginny Weasley?! First her with Fred, and now you- how long has this been going on?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to make himself look smaller. “A while.”

“A while?" James repeated, his voice cracking. “Define ��a while.’ A few days? Weeks?”

Harry hesitated. “Since... fifth year?”

“Fifth year?!" James bellowed, looking like he might explode. “That’s years! Years, Harry! And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

“What was I supposed to say?” Harry shot back, clearly frustrated now. “‘Hey, Dad, by the way, I’m snogging Ron’s little sister’? That would’ve gone over well.”

“Well, it’s certainly better than me finding out like this!” James cried, gesturing wildly at nothing in particular. “My own son! Betraying me! I raised you better than this, Harry!”

Lily wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, James. They’re clearly happy, and Ginny’s a wonderful girl. You love her.”

“That’s not the point, Lily!” James snapped, his hands flying to his hair. “It’s- this is-!Fred! Ginny! My children and their Weasleys! What’s next? Ron’s going to marry into the family, too?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Well... technically, Hermione-"

“No! They got her too!?" James cut him off, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t even tell me! I won’t survive it! This is it- this is how I go. Betrayed by my own family and buried in a sea of Weasleys.”

You leaned against the counter, wheezing with laughter. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” James turned to you, his face a picture of righteous indignation. “You don’t understand. I fought a war for this family- for this! And now my legacy is going to be a house full of Weasleys!”

“Sounds cozy,” Lily teased, patting his arm. “You’ll come around, James. You always do.”

James groaned, sinking into a chair as if all the fight had been drained out of him. “Fine,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Fine. Date your Weasleys. Marry them. Name your kids Fred and Ginny Jr. for all I care.”

You patted his shoulder, grinning. “Love you, Dad.”

He shot you a glare but muttered, “Love you, too. But don’t think for one second I’m not watching Fred like a hawk.”

“And Ginny?” Harry asked, daring to push his luck.

James pointed a warning finger at him. “You, young man, are on thin bloody ice."

Lily hushed James as she patted his back, leading him out of the kitchen. He continued to blabber on, muttering something along the lines of;

“Is this my fault?”

“Merlin, does Molly know?”

“Bloody redheads- OW!”

[robynlilyblack]

But you’re over here

Fred Weasley x fem! shy! Potter! Reader

Summary: During the final game of the season, a certain redhead couldn’t care less about the trophy

Warnings/tags: swearing, friends to lovers, first kiss, getting together, mutual pining, Hufflepuff reader, potter reader, James being a good dad, Cedric being the best wing and hype man, Jess, Timothy and Joey OCs, marauders being parents

A/n: 4.4k words, ngl the alchemy plays in my head during this kiss scene, apologies for any mistakes I'm a bit ill right now, as always reader can be the bio or adopted older daughter of James and Lily, based on this and this requests ♡

Navigation | Fred Weasley Masterlist

“Oh boy, oh boy!” James claps his hands, rubbing them together in excitement as he, Lily, Remus, and Sirius reach the top of the stands 

Lily giggles at her husband's enthusiasm, following him to the front row, while Remus and Sirius brace themselves at the top, catching their breaths after a quite frankly atrocious number of stairs

Today was the big game, not only was it the old rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but it was the final, and the first year Harry was serving as captain after Oliver passed the torch to him two years ago. It was safe to say as fun as the Triwizard tournament was the previous year, quidditch was still the marauders and co’s favourite pastime. Hell, the whole school was buzzing

“Were they always that high?” Sirius whispers, rubbing his chest “Fuck me” he breathes heavily

“I think we’re just old now my love” Remus chuckles, after all these years he still can’t help but wind up his husband just a little bit

Sirius makes a face “Fuck you! I’m not old…you’re old!” he childishly argues, wearing a grumpy pout that twitches everyone once and again, revealing the smile beneath

“And when is your birthday?” 

Sirius’ mouth opens to reply but alas the man has nothing and is caught looking like a fish, though he’s a very cute fish in Remus’ mind

“We might be old…but you’re still as pretty as you were last time we were up here” Remus compliments, leaning down to peck Sirius’ tinting cheeks “Pretty boy” he whispers one last blow before pushing off the beam and joining his friends leaving Sirius flustered 

“Pads? You comin?” James calls out, head shooting over “Ohhhh” James barks a knowing laugh, whispering something to Remus and patting his back as he sits down

Sirius can’t help but let out a small smile as they turn away “He thinks I’m pretty” he mutters all giddy to himself before joining his friends, taking a seat between Remus and James, with Lily on James’ other side

“See! I told you we were smart coming early, it’s already beginning to fill up” Lily points out, smiling to herself as she shrugs off her jacket, grabbing the others as well, before laying them on the seats behind them to save room for when the McKinnon’s made their fashionably late appearance

James smiles, hand finding the top of Lily's head “That we were, hun” he agrees, patting her head and soaking up her proud little smile as she smooths out the rest of the coats

“Who are you looking for?” Remus asks, pulling James’ attention back to find Sirius squinting off into the distance

“Our goddaughter, I haven’t seen her in ages” Sirius pouts, squinting harder

“You saw her at Easter break” James chuckles 

“Oh yeah” Sirius nods, remembering “Still, I miss her” he confesses, warming the men's hearts

Sirius and Remus decided against children, not that they didn’t want them per se, more they couldn’t confirm the child's safety with Remus’ furry little problem. As such, they filled that hole with you and Harry. Sirius took an extra shine to you though, maybe it was your shy yet cheeky nature that reminded him of Remus, or maybe it’s the little bit of himself he saw in you, watching you get sorted into Hufflepuff when everyone else in your big, wonderfully weird family was Gryffindor. Whatever it was, though today was Harry’s day, he still had to make sure you were alright

“Do you want your glasses?” Remus offers, sighing as he watches his husbands sorry display and reaches for his bag

Sirius swats his hand away “I don’t need glasses moony, I’m fine. It’s just the wind, it’s blowing stuff in my eyes” he gestures around his face, scrunching his nose before attempting to subtly squint again

Remus’ eyes meet James’, shaking his head as he mouths ‘why can’t he admit defeat?’

James smirks, shrugging as he turns away, now interested in where you were, as is Lily after overhearing the debacle. The four searched for you as the student body make their way to the stands. Glancing around Remus’ spots a wild Weasley, smiling as he watches Ron attempt to hold back his blushes as Hermione fixes the red paint on his cheeks. Lily spots Neville, Ginny and Luna in another stand wearing their handmade lion mains. Sirius spots well…nothing, but your father on the other hand is the one to finally find you. 

He watches as you enter the stand diagonal to them with Cedric, Jess and two other boys he doesn’t quite recognise but based on their green scarfs must be Timothy and Joey, which would be two out of the four very few Slytherins in this world he accepted were good, the others being his best friends’ brother and the one and only Dorcas Meadows

“Found her” he points with joy “There she is, ain’t our little fawn beautiful” he shines, causing all their eyes to fall on you as you all worm your way to the front of your own stand

“It’s funny seeing them in red and gold” Remus notes, an amused look as he observes yours, Cedric, and Jess’s Gryffindor scarves, most likely stolen from your brother and his friends…or perhaps secretly gifted from one particular Weasley

Lily nods, but her head tilts to the side as your head taps the taller of the other boy's shoulders “They seem close, which one is he again, Tim or Joe?” she ponders trying to remember

“Tim, she said he was tall in the letters” James confirms “They aren’t together” he says with confidence

“And how would you know that Captain Oblivious?” Remus’ laughs, eyeing his friend but then his gaze drifts to peak at his husband, who's been unusually quiet, realising he’s still very much struggling to see you

Remus slowly collects the glasses from his bag again and holds them up in offering

“Dammit” Sirius sighs accepting the truth and putting them on, looking grumpy until his eyes widen, like he’s seeing a brand-new world

“Better love?” Remus teases while pointing you out again

“Shut up moo…aww there she is, beautiful as ever” he adjusts them smiling “Wait…whoa” he looks at James doing a double take as everything is now in high definition “You’ve aged so well” he notes

James’ smirks “Why thank you, I steal Lily’s muggles products” he admits unapologetically, not that it’s much of a surprise to the girl next to him who just rolls her eyes, accepting the fact she now buys two of every product just for him

“It’s the one with lighter hair, not Cedric, the taller one” Remus points out to Sirius

“Oh…” Sirius eyes the boy, judging “...nah”

“What do you mean nah?” everyone jumps a little at first turning around to see Marlene, Dorcas and the cutest little lion there had ever been joining them “Holy shi… sugar those specks are something” Marlene laughs, catching herself before glancing at her wife, mouthing an apology while their daughter looks up at them confused

“Suu’gar” the little cub repeats before pointing at Sirius “Specky!” she says excitedly “Unkie Jams t‘win” she claps, pointing between James and Sirius before jumping and clapping again all happy with herself

Sirius’ quickly pulls the glasses off, cheeks heating while the others struggle to hold in their giggles 

“I don’t need them” he looks straight at Marlene, trying his best to be convincing

She just gives him a ‘really’ look in return before smiling softly 

Sirius half chuckles, half sighs as he admits defeat, flashing the women a genuine smile “It’s good to see you Marls, you too Dorca darlin” he then looks down at little Lacy “Hello little cub” he coos 

“Rwah!” Lacy holds up her hands in a claw motion, doing her best lion impression 

It was well known the Marauders had one brain cell between them, but when that cell fired it was magical, all including her mothers and godmother pretended she was the most fearsome thing they’d ever beheld, even a couple other parents who had taken seats little ways down joined in. After some pleas and chocolate offered to calm the beast, the group settled in again, catching up as they waited for the game to start.

You rocked on your feet, eyes continually flicking to the players entrance in anticipation

“You good sunshine?” you feel a soft pat to the top of your head, looking up you’re greeted with Timothy's soft smile, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he checked in, worried the ruckus and busyness of the stand was a bit overwhelming for you

You gently tap your head into his shoulder, nodding “I’m good…just excited” you confess with warm cheeks as your nose is flooded with the scent of your scarf again

“Ahhhh” he elongates, giving you and then the scarf a look “Y/n and Freddie sitting in a tree” he whisper sings

Your eyes widen before you attempt a scowl that looks more like a puppy pouting “Shut up” you chide, fixing the scarf a little before looking away, hoping Cedric, Jess and Joey were having a more in depth conversion but instead you find them grinning “Sugar” you press your lips into a downturned smile

They all looked at each other before singing in unison 

“K…i…s…s…i…n…g!” 

Despite your cheeks positively flaming around the second ‘s’, you can help but break into a smile. Your friends knew about your little crush on the Weasley boy from afar. Despite your brother’s closeness with the family you didn’t have such ties, you adored Ginny on the few occasions she had visited, along with Ron and Hermione, but as for the rest of the clan your paths rarely crossed. You were meant to spend the summer with them as your families decided to holiday together, but when Cedric won the Triwizard tournament that changed, and instead, he took you and your friends traveling with the prize money 

Yours paths finally crossed at the beginning of the school year, when Sprout created a seating pattern allowing everyone to get familiar with their randomised Herbology partner before the end of year assignment. You were nervous at first, as you were sure the professor was when she pulled out your names. Putting the quietest person in Hogwarts with the loudest person seemed like it would either be the worst pairing she had ever seen or the most genius 

To her good fortune…and ego, it was the latter. It was surprising to see the king of mischief actually try with his assignments, but most chalked it up to the fact that while you were quiet, you were well-loved by your year, you held no prejudices, helped people with their assignments when the asked you, and was just in general sweet to everyone, to the point even the meanest Slytherins were a little soft on you. Therefore, most assumed Fred couldn’t bear to let you down either, and while that was true at first, a second reason soon bloomed for the boy

It bloomed for you as well, you slowly opened up to him each class, topics drifting to something deeper, and by the time Christmas rolled around you both were close friends. So close in fact you began inviting him to your friend’s secret hideaway by black lake, at first to study, but then to hang out both with and without your other friends. It was funny at first, with Cedric and Jess being rivals in quidditch and Timothy and Joey's Slytherin status, but Fred warmed to them, gaining their trust and, not that they told either of you, their blessing 

“I hate you all” you pout, falling into Cedric’s side hug as you shake your head

“Nah” Timothy joins from the other side

“You love us” Jess chimes in, beaming at you

“Not as much as she loves him though” Joey adds cheekily, nodding towards the pitch, it seems none of you had noticed the crowds stir for the players appearances during your teasing session

Cedric and Timothy quickly retract their grasp, smiling at one another as you lunge adorably forward to see. Your friends soon join you, all cheering, while you find Fred in the small mass of people, admiring him as he laughs with the others. After a few moments, the team is finished talking, beginning to take flight and get into position. Once there, you watch as Fred’s eyes begin to scan the crowd, heart thumping as his gaze slowly draws closer, skipping a beat when they fall on you, and damn near stopping as he doubles back, face lifting 

You see, a few weeks ago you had met Fred to check over your final herbology assignment, which meant a late-night picnic waiting to see if your flower would bloom under the full moon. While chatting, the topic of today's game came up. Of course, now that Hufflepuff were out for the count, he teased you with who you would be supporting, his teasing backfired however when, without missing a beat, said you would be supporting whatever team he was playing in. 

After his slight fluster, which, to this day is one of your proudest achievements, conversation returned to normal, you figured he’s forgotten about it until a first year found you this morning holding a small bundle of Gryffindor scarves, one of which had a red ribbon around it with a note for you

You bring your hands up, hugging the scarf as your eyes meet, causing the biggest smile to take over his face. It was times like this you truly believed your crush was requited, and little did you know a certain redhead was thinking the same thing

“Be brave and go for it” Cedric whispers some encouragement 

He’s right, you think, Now or never

As you mouth him ‘Good luck’, you add a little extra to it, blowing him a kiss

His eyes widen in a pleasant shock, melting into a mix of joy and pride as he pretends to catch it, winking at you before kissing his balled up fist before returning his gaze to the field just before the starting whistle blows

“Way to go gal” Jess cheers, reaching over to give your arm a soft squeeze

“Aww the grew up so fast don’t they” Timothy wipes an imaginary tear from his eye while Cedric and Jess both match his energy, taking out handkerchiefs and pretending to be forlorn mothers, with Joey doing the same but with an imaginary tissue

You giggle at them, and while you would usually try to come up with some sort of witty answer, you instead break into a smile “He likes me” you say simply, swaying side to side

“If he didn’t, he’d be an idiot love” Cedric gives you a side hug while the rest of your friends’ smile, happy for you “Now let’s what your man kick snake butt”

“Hey-” Joey and Tim begin to object together but then shrug 

“Oh, who are we kiddin” Timothy laughs, taking off his green scarf and pulling out a red and gold one as does Joey “Pusey’s an arsehole and I want a chance to be a bridesman at your wedding someday”

“Bridesman?” you giggle, heartwarming at the idea of you and Fred getting married someday

“Yip, Ceds already called man of honour” 

The match was a whirlwind of emotion, the kind of game that left everyone on the edge of their seats. Gryffindor and Slytherin were neck and neck at every turn, every goal answered by another, and it was clear to everyone that this match would come down who would catch the snitch first

“Holy shit, this is intense!” James exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat “Merlin, how the hell did you guys watch me and Marls do this back in the day?”

“Jamie…language!” Lily scolds with a giggle, lips quirking up in amusement as she gives Dorcas a please forgive us look

“Oh, don’t worry, Lacey can’t hear a thing thanks to these” Dorcas it waves off, gesturing to Lacey’s adorable, enchanted earmuffs “Watch this” she says leaning over the little girl perched on her lap “You want some ice cream, bubs? What about a unicorn?” 

Lacey doesn’t react at all, instead she stays focused on mimicking her other mothers’ gestures and waves towards the pitch

“Those are…” Lily starts but is promptly cut off 

“What the hell was that!” Marlene huffs, throwing up her hands as the crowds roar once more, a mix of cheers and groans as the Slytherins risky manoeuvre pays off leading to another goal “Fucking Pusey again!”

“Did you get the earmuffs for the crowd or for Marls?” Remus whispers to Dorcas, who struggles to hold back a smile

“Oi! Gingers! Stay in formation! Godric, what are you doing?!” Marlene shouts again, shaking her head as Fred and George narrowly avoid colliding whilst going for the same bludger

“No comment” Dorcas replies with a grin before planting a kiss on Lacey’s cheek

The match grows increasingly heated after Harry lets the snitch slip through his grasp, igniting a fire under Slytherins asses causing their play to get even more aggressive

“This game is insane!” Cedric grips the railing so tightly his knuckles turn white

“Come on, Freddie!” you yell, unable to stop yourself as he whizzes by

You watch him turn ever so slightly, catching your voice over the roar before he dives back into the action, pulling off a spectacular move that has more than one person flushing

“Offt…your man’s a beast” Timothy mutters as Fred swoops in to deflect a bludger, shirt riding up a little as he does “What? I can admire” his cheeks tint as he sees all of your raised eyebrows

“Don’t worry” you say with a laugh, “He’ll never admit it, but he has a little guy crush on you too”

“Really?” 

“Really” you confirm, giggling 

“Did you see that?!” Sirius exclaims, pointing towards Fred after he executes a spectacular mid-air spin to block the Bludger aimed at Angelina “Can’t deny the boys got style!”

“Sure does” James agrees but then his expression sinks to a smug one as he adjusts his glasses “Almost as cool as some of the moves we pulled off ay Marls?” he tries to get her attention but is gifted a passive ‘uh huh’ instead

“Oh, please” Remus argues, chuckling “Are we forgetting in our final year when you tried to do a spin like that and your glasses came flying clean off?”

“What?!” Lily, Sirius, and Dorcas all turned to him in unison

“Moony!” James protests before his face slowly sinks as if awaiting his impending doom

“Wait…” Marlene turns slowly, looking menacingly down at James “You’re telling me. I almost lost my final match as captain because of your speckyless ass?”

James hesitates, his ears turning near crimson as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck “…no comment”

With one final push, the final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You and your friends join in, your eyes look over towards Fred, who’s the first to get to Harry, pulling him into the biggest bear hug. The sight makes your heart warm, but your admiration is cut short as your friends practically pick you up, ushering you to move 

“What’s happening” you ask confused

“Come on, we gotta get down their sunshine” Timothy insists, shooing you along with Cedric, Jess and Joey “You’ve got a ginger to congratulate”

Over on the other stands your family celebrates. Everyone’s on their feet, except Lacey who is now glued to Marlene’s hip as they cheer 

“Yesssss!” James roars, pulling Lily into a celebratory hug…and subsequent snog 

“That’s my godson!” Sirius bellows, fist pumping the air before looking to hug James then realises “Oh…well if that’s what we’re doing, come here moons!” he hithers towards Remus, arms outstretched 

Remus laughs softly before indulging his husband, pulling him in for a kiss before dramatically dipping him

Meanwhile Marlene and little Lacey remain oblivious to the romance in the air, as she was too busy yelling so hard her voice will be lost come tomorrow “THAT’S MY LIONS!”

Dorcas just chuckles at the scene, pulling out Lilys camera and snapping a shot of them all (A/n: art of this bit in the future?)

As their celebrations calm down, they notice the teams beginning to land and everyone else begin to make their way down to join them

“This takes me back” Remus lets out a small laugh watching the red and gold scarfs fly around

Nostalgia fills the air as the others join him, gazing down

“Man…that used to be us” James remarks, letting out a breathy laugh before glancing over at Marlene

She nods, a happy yet bittersweet smile on her face “Yeah…good times” she reminisces before looking down at Lacey “Times are still pretty good…maybe better” she confesses watching her little cub cheer 

Dorcas joins her side, arm wrapping around both Marlene and Lacy as their foreheads meet

“I think we should give them their moment” Lily suggests “We have time to embarrass them later” she giggles

The group hums in agreement. As their stand empties, they begin pointing out things only they are privy to from their vantage point. Like Nevilles and Lunas intertwined hands as they weave through the crowd with Ginny, Lee sprinting to hug George, the Slytherin team sulks, or even Snape begrudgingly handing a couple of gallons to McGonagall. None of them, however, have managed to spot you or your friends yet. 

“I hope y/ns alright in the crowds” James says softly next to Lily

“As long as she’s with her friends I have no doubt shell be alright” she hums, giving your fathers arm a squeeze 

“Oh, there she is…” Sirius points you out before chuckling to himself “…maybe being your twin ain’t so bad” he jokes, wiggling his glasses 

James laughs, wrapping an arm around Sirius as everyone turns their attention back towards you 

Down on the pitch, it’s a flurry of red and gold, so you hold back at the edge where it was quieter, encouraging your friends to head into the chaos and enjoy it. Jess, Joey and Timothy promise to be right back, while Cedric spots Cho in the crowd little ways from yourself and joins her, being careful not to drift too far from you

You beam as you take a couple of steps back, watching Harry get lifted up by Ron and Neville. Much like your parents and family above, you want Harry and Fred to have their moment in the spotlight. There would be more than enough time to talk to them after

Unbeknownst to you, one of that duo was already looking for you. Fred’s eyes scan the chaos for your figure, but finds a familiar blonde in the crowd first, and he smiles watching him kiss Cho’s cheek. Cedric feels the eyes on them, looking up and noticing Fred’s searching expression. He smiles, giving a knowing nod towards you, as does Cho who’s clearly been filled in on the situation. 

Fred’s eyes follow the direction and there you are, standing apart from the rest, your gaze locked on Harry. Taking a deep breath, he hypes himself up, realising in that moment you aren’t just wearing his scarf, but the jumper he gave you to keep warm a few weeks ago as well. That along with the kiss you blew him earlier, are all the signs he needed to finally make a move

“Oi, Freddie” George calls as he moves away from the rest of the team “Where ya going?” George tries again but to no avail, Fred’s already gone, pushing through the crowd, using his broom to help manage the masses

As he breaks free, you do a double take, and he finds himself smiling as your confused expression melts into hope and joy

“You’re supposed to be over there” you tell him, taking a few steps forward as he closes the gap

“But you’re over here” he replies simply before leaning closer, eyes searching yours for permission 

You bite your lip, giving him a nod, to which his own smile grows and his broom is abandoned as his larger hands come up to cradle your cheeks guiding them up towards his lips as they crash into your own. You clutch the front of his sweater, pulling him closer but Fred being the showman he is had other ideas. His hands drop down, snaking around your hips before he dips you back. You squeal at first, then laugh softly with him before your lips reconnect. After that the rest of the world fades away. The cheers and buzz around you becoming a distant hum, neither of you reacting to your friends’ cheers nor the flash of Jess’ camera 

Your friends aren’t the only spectators of course…

“Wait…” Marlene points towards you and Fred “…is he about to…oh!” her mouth drops open, gently covering Lacey’s eyes while Dorcas smiles in a happy shock beside her 

Remus, Sirius, Lily are next to react, eyes widening, before breaking into smiles. Remus and Sirius take a moment longer, clearly doing the ‘does he deserve her’ math in their heads first

“That’s my girl” Lilys hands come up to face, overjoyed, she had an inkling you were a little love struck from your letters, she just didn’t know with who until now

“He’s alright” Sirius begrudgingly admits while Remus nods in agreement

Their smiles and shock soon melt into anticipation as they all slowly turn towards James, who had been a bit too quiet considering the situation. But when they see him, he is…beaming?

Turns out Lily wasn’t the only one with an incline, in fact, James being the girl dad he was, has known about every crush you’ve ever had, your one on Fred being no different. Safe to say, he was ecstatic

“Yes!” he cheers “Oh the dips a nice touch, very classy” he nods in approval before looking over at the others “What?” he takes in their shocked faces

“Prongs?” Remus eyes him “You realise that’s y/n, right?” he feels the need to check

“Yeah” James shrugs before his mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape, his reply sending them into fits of laughter “I’m supposed to be mad right now, aren’t I?”

Thank you for reading ♡

[mellowwillowy]

Being a livestock for a vampire has never sounded good until you were kidnapped by a vampire as his spouse.

TW: Yandere, NSFW, SH, and massacre

The vampire was intrigued by the puny human he ran into when he was walking around the river in the morning, testing his new potion and spell that would keep him immune to sunlight.

What was once a plan to kidnap you as one of his livestock turned into a moment where you had to nurse him because he suddenly dropped his whole weight onto you, face blistered from the sunlight.

“You are awake now.”

Your voice stirred him awake more than ever. His once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. He didn't remember having anyone in his manor.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and he defensively squinted his eyes. You raised both of your hands, “You passed out right behind me and I had to drag you all the way from the riverbank to my cottage.”

The curtain was drawn close suspiciously, not allowing any light to filter inside the bedroom. Did you know he was a vampire already?

“Was it an allergic reaction?”

“Huh?” he asked, baffled.

“Your face was blistered because it was the only part of you that was exposed. Nonetheless, you healed really fast so there was no need for any extensive care from my herbs. You were only out for a day.”

He started to feel his face, aside from patches here and there, there was nothing wrong with it.

“Ah yes, let me get the hand mirror for you—”

Just before you could stand up, his hand grabbed yours and held you on the spot immediately. If you were to realize he had no reflection.

“Can you help me stand and get me to the kitchen instead? I'm quite thirsty since I haven't drunk in a day.”

You stared at his eyes and glanced at his pale hand. It took you seconds before you agreed to him and supported him by slinging his arm over your shoulder and walked toward the kitchen downstairs.

His eyes scanned through your cottage, it was mainly dominated by white, ornaments, furniture, trinkets, and even flowers.

“You must have really loved white, considering even having flowers that can't grow in this land.” Yulian glanced at the potted flowers. Lilies of the Valley, daisies, baby’s breath, and lilies.

At that, you only hummed and sat him down on one of the chairs. You placed a cup of water for him and returned to the sink to prepare him what he assumed to be breakfast, judging from how bright it was outside the window.

Mindlessly staring into the window, he accidentally hissed from the sunlight reaching his bare-handed hand, alerting you of his discomfort.

“Oh dear, what happened?”

Yulian flinched at the endearment term you spoke before he regained his composure.

“Nothing, I just accidentally bit my tongue.” he lied as he tried to cover his blistered hand. You nodded and turned your focus back to the breakfast you were preparing.

“Are you allergic to dairies?” you asked him. “No.”

“Thought you were one unlucky man, it seems like you are not immune to light or something like an albino. I'm assuming Your skin is very sensitive to light since you were so covered.”

He only mumbled a few incoherent words before you snapped him out of his trance with a clap of your hands, “So what's your name dear?”

“Alan-” instinctively, the man shut his mouth and took a few seconds of silence before answering you.

“Yulian. My name is Yulian.” “Nice to meet you,” you served him a plate of sandwiches, “I’m the local physician here, you’ll be staying here with me for rehabilitation.”

Yulian raised both of his eyebrows, “But I am not wounded terribly in any way.” “Perhaps not, but this is how I work. Could it be that you are not a local?”

Yulian shook his head.

“Where’s your house? Do you need to go back home to your family immediately? I can stay in your place for a few days to make sure there are no more anomalies.”

Yulian frowned, what a persistent human. It was almost annoying, breaching people’s boundaries just to sate their own curiosities. He could read you that much.

But he agreed to stay in your cottage nonetheless.

𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

But you had always been attentive, drawing the curtain for him when he walked out of his bedroom. Offering to hold the umbrella for him when he wanted to walk.

What was once a plain bedroom was slowly adorned by flowers, mainly baby’s breath.

The food you made or bought was also not bad. They were decent for a human but not a vampire. Sometimes he had to mask his distaste to any food that consisted of onions.

It was not easy to sneak out of the cottage since you were sometimes awake and roamed around the cottage.

But it was a rather peaceful life. There was bustling sounds and noises from the cottage, unlike his dead and dark manor.

It was bright in your cottage but it didn't hurt him in the slightest bit. Was it because it was a ‘White House’?

𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔.

If there was something he disliked from you then it had to be your silver ring. Whenever you touched him with your hand ring, you would sometimes graze his skin with your ring.

He tried not to hiss but there were occasions when it was unbearable, just like when you were compressing him and felt his temperature.

Unlike in a few cases where he could hide his blisters, it was visible that his forehead was bleeding from the contact.

It was alarming for both of you, paranoia and fear downed him as he suspected you were testing him while shock and suspicion flashed onto your face.

There was a rift but Yulian was a great reader, he knew you did not mean anything bad and decided to lie his way out again. Alas, it's harder this time.

Another thing he didn't like about you was how you could be ignoring him for a whole day sometimes. It could be something interesting that got your whole attention or another patient coming.

Perhaps he was simply unamused by the idea of a lesser being taking away your attention from him.

𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔.

You often strolled around the riverbank and forest, collecting herbs and wildflowers, sometimes walking down toward the village to buy daily necessities.

You didn't allow him to follow you at first, making him have to secretly follow you out of boredom and partial curiosity.

But upon week later, Yulian started to show you his interest in going out with you. It took him lots of convincing that he wouldn't fall sick from this and you reluctantly agreed to it.

For the first time, he could finally walk side by side with you instead of following you from the dark. It almost felt like his still heart was beating from excitement.

Apparently, all the villagers recognized you as a talented physician. They were all friendly to you and would do anything to help you as well.

It made something within him sting. Was it envy that he wasn't treated just as nice?

𝑽𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚’𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.

Sometimes the two of you would sing under the moonlight as a pastime. Sometimes you would come to his bedroom at night and converse with him until he pretended to fall asleep.

Sometimes you would diagnose him. Sometimes you would tell him stories of your life. Sometimes you would ask him questions about his life. Sometimes you would cry in your bedroom.

He couldn't help but wonder what sorrowed your frail heart.

Sometimes he would enter your bedroom and observe your patterned breathing while you were asleep. It was almost as if the role was reversed. He was observing you out of curiosity and perhaps, adoration.

A human’s lifespan is as short as a stick. Not only couldn't they live long, but they were also vulnerable to almost everything.

Yulian brought his hand to cup your cheek, squeezing it just a bit before his fingers traced down toward your neck, feeling your jugular vein pulsating in rhythm with your heart. You were alive but he wasn't. You were loved but he wasn't. You were adored but he wasn't.

Was it envy that brought his fangs close to your neck? Was he envious of your life? Or was he simply being unreasonable? You stirred awake from your sleep, eyes adjusting to the moonlight that lit your bedroom. No one was in sight and the water you placed on your nightstand remained warm despite the chilling temperature.

Perhaps the envy in him was never directed at you.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚.

The only reason why Yulian was still resting in your cottage was because of his self-sabotaging. You were a physician and he was a patient, unless he had a logical reason to stay in your cottage then he had to excuse himself.

It started with how Yulian started to fake food poisoning, burn himself from the sunlight, fake an anemic, and wound himself with the silver ornaments you had in the cottage.

But Yulian understood it was only a matter of time before your dense self realized that something was wrong and chased him out of your cottage.

Would you scream at him in fury, fear, or disappointment? He thought he was used to rejection already but something changed within him with the time spent living with you.

And he didn't want to betray your trust. You trusted him with your little secret. The secret that you were actually the village's 'Witch'.

Yulian sighed audibly as he walked toward your bedroom, observing it from corner to corner for any anomalies. It had always been a paranoid habit of his. He wanted to make sure nothing dangerous was inside your bedroom or, to be frank, your surroundings.

Yulian walked toward your dressing table and gazed into the mirror. There was not a single reflection of himself, a reminder that he was never supposed to let you live in the first place.

Yet your touch never failed to soothe his stoned heart, it never failed to make him melt under your touch. And your existence did not hunger him in any way unlike the others would.

He had learned to co-exist with you before he realized it, it was too late for him to undo this dependence and bond, let alone feed on you.

Yulian walked out and waited for you to come back from your visit to the local church. As much as he wanted to join you, he couldn't risk getting caught by them.

Hours passed and the sun sank, the moon lit the dark sky and yet not even a single sound of your footsteps approaching the cottage was heard. Yulian dissipated into thin air and teleported to where you were supposed to be but you were nowhere in sight.

The church was eerily silent to human ears but not to an otherworldly being like him. He could hear an ominous chant beneath him. He could smell the sickeningly sweet incense lit beneath him. And he could feel the mark he left on your neck that night beneath him.

The 'Witch' play ends tonight.

-

You woke up in someone's embrace, the night was lit by the moonlight above you yet there was an unbearable heat nearby.

"You are awake now."

His voice stirred you awake more than ever. Your once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. You didn't remember seeing him.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and you stared at his eyes. He smiled at you, “You passed out amidst the fire and I had to carry you all the way from the village.”

You looked behind his back and saw a huge fire consume the village, the villagers' cries were audible despite the distance. You clutched his black robe, "Wait, no! The villagers, they need me! I need to save them!"

"May I know why?" "Because I'm a Witch, the protector of this village!"

Yulian chortled at your remarks before he smirked, "And yet you let an outsider reside in your cottage for months."

All colors were drained from your face, and your heart sank down; "What do you mean?"

Yulian sat you down on one of the rocks and knelt in front of you, his gloved hand brought your hand ring, "Observe this."

He took off his glove and pressed your ring finger to his palm, the skin blistered from the contact and you instinctively pulled away, "What was that?!"

There was a tale of vampires and you wished he would deny it.

"It was troublesome for me having to avoid the mirrors in your cottage and anything that would reflect." Hand mirror.

"I never really like the dishes you made with onions but I stomach it all because I just couldn't muster the courage to see your sullen face," Onions.

"I really hate strolling when the sun is still up because I have to carry an umbrella with me all the time." Sun.

"Though I must say I don't mind being touched by you with your ring hand because it was worth the pain and trouble." Silver.

You backed away from him and just before your back could hit the grassy ground, his arm prevented you from tumbling back, "And I must say, it took me lots of time to properly mark and make you submit to a contract with me."

Contract?

Yulian cradled your confused body into his chest, the warmth you felt was not emitted from his skin but instead, the fire that devoured all the villagers who had been deceiving you.

All of the shock that weighed upon made you succumb to unconsciousness again, mainly from stress and trauma. Yulian frowned at your limp figure as he stood up and continued walking deep into the forest to his manor.

𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕-𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 '𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆' 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕.

Yulian did not like the hostility that you showed him at all. The ongoing stress and trauma drowned you in the hysteria that would also make you harm yourself. It pained him that he was one of the causes of your hysteria, a hypothetical scenario would sometimes flash across his mind. What if he had not appeared in your life? Then perhaps your heart wouldn't sorrow to this extent.

Yulian tried his best to help you adapt. The once dark and grim manor slowly turned white. The exteriors and interiors were white before you could remember how it originally looked like. Flowers were blooming in the garden to your liking and a potted white flowers near you for you to adore.

While Yulian had the patience to make you warm up to him and face the reality of your life, he did not have the heart to see you suffer for so long. And as much as he wanted to change you into a vampire just like him, he'd rather not have it done unwillingly.

But time was not so kind for your age. The longer he delayed it, the older and frailer you would be.

Alas, luck was on his side when he secluded himself in his room for a long time for the first time you came here. He didn't expect you to find his presence soothing for you.

It appeared that all his efforts had made you think that his action of kidnapping you was just an attempt to save you from the villagers who tricked you into thinking that you were a 'Witch'.

You looked for him, calmly at first then frantically when you suffered from a panic attack. He didn't mean to test you but he knew well deep inside he was hurting you.

Even for a selfish and cold-blooded creature like him, he had to steel his heart before he could see you again. Everything he was feeling after he met you was his first. You brought colors to his monochrome life. You taught him that the smell of a morning was calming. You taught him how to spend his time with pastimes.

He could not find it in his heart to leave your side. It was his first time to feel alive and he was greedy, wanting more of it.

You stood in front of his chamber, waiting for him to open his door instead of avoiding you altogether.

--

"The servants took great care of you while I was away right, dear?"

Yulian never found the charm in terms of endearment, but whenever you called him 'dear', incomprehensible emotion and feeling surged into him. He still remembered the day you first called him that, it was foreign and weird to him but he didn't find it that bad at all.

You squirmed under his touch, squeezing yourself closer and deeper into his embrace while your hands clenched on the bedsheet. That was not the only thing you were clenching though, for his fingers were knuckle deep inside you.

You tried to form a coherent answer but what came out was simply a blubbering. Tears dripped down from your cheek from the way he curled his fingers, feeling your spot until your toes were curled.

You didn't know that even vampires could feel this much stimulation from sex. You assumed they just reproduced while feeling only half of the pleasure humans could have because of how cold-blooded they were.

You thought they only did it out of curiosity or memories of their past lives, or perhaps from the mood itself instead of doing it for pleasure as well.

Yulian brought his lip to yours, nibbling your lower lip why urging you to open your mouth, allowing his tongue to roam inside you while his fingers did not stop even one bit, drawing multiple orgasms out of you.

You really loved every bit of the man who once tried to kill you. The way his soft fangs felt your skin, pricking it playfully instead of sinking it deep inside your jugular vein and killing you on the spot.

You loved it when he caressed your cheek, you loved how gentle he was when he wiped the tears from your eyelashes.

You loved it when he was inside of you, you loved it when he knew every inch of your body so well to the point he could make you cry out of pleasure effortlessly.

You loved to see his cute face from how fast he came inside you but he never stopped his hip. You loved it when he kissed your face. You loved it when he intertwined both of your hands.

You loved it when he made your insides feel warm and full.

You loved him for severing the illusion of the 'Witch' inside of you. It was undeniable that Yuliad had saved you from the villagers' torturing you for accepting an outsider into your cottage for the first time.

You were simply curious of his condition and yet you were punished terribly for not keeping the said tradition. Yulian knew there was never a tradition, it simply was a doctrine for you who was a prodigy of a physician to save everyone from your village.

You were exiled deep in the forest so that you couldn't learn the life beyond the forest and village.

Yulian knew just as much when he first joined you on your stroll to the village. Everyone treated you differently as though you were a deity and you considered it to be something normal.

It looked normal to him considering they believed in the 'Witch' but Yulian knew better. You were just a human and all of these were just a doctrine from the church. To ensure the prodigy never left the village and was forever loyal to the church.

Spies were sent and he knew the church had probably noticed him as not only a weird outsider but also a vampire. It was unfortunate of you to be dragged into the church's underground and interrogated, forced to drag him to the church and had him staked to death. But you were persistent, you didn't trust them.

Just before Yulian was about to save you, you made a grave mistake of swearing on your name to make a promise with the devil to save you and your companion which was him. He knew you had always been so kind but wasn't that sort of naivety a little bit too much for a stranger like him? Perhaps this was the reason why the church wanted to force a much stronger doctrine onto you.

Their mistake was to not sense the danger that was him earlier. Your flaw was that you were too kind-hearted.

It gave him more reasons to seclude you from the world beyond the White House. His paranoia and obsession growing stronger with each day never seemed to unnerve you who were just a bright soul with a kind heart. A kind heart that was a contrast to his stoned heart.

That alone justified his paranoia of losing you. Surely you understood him right?

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this half-hearted work, I was so motivated to write a damn vampire fic but got writer's block mid-way smh. Happy 7th Anniversary to LIfE Project and 5k to this blog!

[vultbae]

negroni ✩

art donaldson x female reader

↳ summary: After winning against Patrick, Art takes the night off to grab a few drinks at the Ritz Carlton lobby bar. There, he meets a profound admirer. 

OR

Things go wrong with the girl who bought him a Negroni.

↳ warnings: fingering (minors dni), age gap (reader is 22), manipulation, infidelity, angst towards end.

↳ extra warnings: english is not my first language pookies + my first fic + yall I'm messyy so I added drama out of nowhere. if u read this I love u thank u for giving me a chance

word count: 4.9k

✩

"Excuse me, no smoking."

The blonde man lifts his chin to encounter a young waitress warning him about the cigarette dangling off his mouth. His middle and index fingers immediately approach the cigarette and gradually pull the filtered end from between his lips. "Sorry." Art frankly apologizes.

The waitress's purposeful avoidance of directly looking at him makes Art borderline giggle. He can't help but discreetly give her a comprehensive look; the girl is attractive, with velvety skin that impersonates caramel and peaceful facial features. He shushes all the pushy thoughts resembling the waitress to his wife staying upstairs. He is not that desperate, plus, everyone knows he is married to the Tashi Duncan.

Art audibly clears his throat and articulates before the young woman strolls away, "Can you get me a Negroni, please?" He requests, showcasing a courteous smile. The woman nods.

He didn't even realize when he positioned the cigarette between his lips. He had been anxiously waiting for an instance when he could be alone -at least since the match against Patrick. Tashi cheerfully agreed to let him descend to the lobby bar to grab a few drinks.

✩

Art had been attentively scanning his frame on the wide mirror and adjusting strands and strands of hair as he paid more attention to his hairstyle; his somber eyes descended from his impeccable hair to the unfastened buttons of his seersucker shirt, revealing a fraction of silk-like, gloomy skin from chest to lower stomach, his well-grooved muscles casting shadows under the bathroom's dim yellow lighting. 

"I'm going out!" Art shouted from the bathroom as he fastened the remaining buttons of his shirt.

From the corner of his eye, he sensed Tashi approaching the bathroom doorframe and standing by it. Art tilted his head up to encounter Tashi, his wife, silently grinning, dressed in a beautiful pearl-white silk robe, "I won't be gone for more than an hour-

"It's fine," Tashi interrupted. "I'll watch a movie with Lily. We can talk about it later."

Art nodded. His eyes stared at her with minor fascination. Tashi couldn't figure out why, but the feral spark on Art's orbs evaporated. She walked away.

Art slightly opened his mouth to say something but suddenly cut himself off, lips slamming together. He didn't say anything. He allowed the slim figure of his wife to vanish from his eyesight. He authorized himself to go out alone for the first time in years and think about his relationship with Tashi and tennis -if, at this point, they were not equal. And his relationship with Patrick, of course. 

After today, he felt things he hadn't felt in a while.

✩

An insistent tap on his shoulder provokes Art to flinch and abruptly land on earth again. 

"Excuse me, Negroni..?" Another waiter says in a quivering voice—a statement rather than a question—hardly maintaining eye contact. He is holding a tiny round silver tray with a bloody-looking Negroni sitting on it. 

Before the amateur waiter can shakily grasp the crystal glass to place it on Art's table, Art raises his arm and moves the Negroni himself. As soon as he places the glass on the marmol table's surface, his long fingers seize the thin wedge of orange embellishing the glass, bringing it to his lips and sucking on it instantly.

He doesn't realize that the one time he and the waiter are maintaining eye contact is while he sucks on a slice of orange -slowly.

"Thank you." Art says, dragging the wedge out of his mouth, detecting the scarcity of color on the waiter's facial canvas. "Why is he so pale?" Art thinks. The meddling stare from the waiter endures for maybe five seconds before Art frowns his eyebrows slightly in confusion; the poor guy nearly jogs away from Art's table.

Does he carry that much power over people? It has been long since Art calculatedly flirted with or attempted to gain someone's attention. To be accurate, since Tashi entered his life. He has officially lost the "open-to-the-public" charming spark and neglected his intrinsically flirty side. 

But today, for some reason, he feels different than usual. Not that he is trying to test it...

The Ritz lobby bar is moderately quiet. Art peeks at a few travelers relaxing with their baggage as they sip cocktails in miniature glasses and couples drinking -"probably pre-gaming before a night out," Art assumes. His gaze disembarks over two guys in their premature 20s, brunette, and blonde, chuckling and vividly chitchatting about topics he can't overhear properly. Art is hooked to the scenario in front of him as he stares enthusiastically: it bitterly reminds him of his friendship with Patrick, whom he hasn't heard of since the match. 

As he finds himself —once again— daydreaming about what once was, Art takes decent-sized sips of his Negroni, with his right hand hugging the crystal glass just right. He is sitting on one of the many hickory brown leather armchairs dispersed across the bar, manspreading as his left hand lays over his lap. 

Suddenly, a personal reflection pops into his mind like a light bulb unexpectedly turning on; what is he doing? Sitting submerged in loneliness in a 5-star hotel lobby bar will not change anything. It simply won't. He would rather go back to the suite and have some pleasing fucking sleep. He is feeling tired, and confused, and depressed, and—

Well, If anything, people who recognize him could come and disturb his night. 

Art locks eyesight with the first waiter wandering across his vision field; he pitches a writing motion with his hand and requests the bill. As the waiter walks in his direction, he chugs down the leftover sips of cocktail in the glass.

"Bill?" Another waiter wearing a burgundy uniform asks Art. The tennis player shakes his head up and down, murmuring a yes please, "Don't worry, on the house."

"I can afford it." Art stresses, with a robust sarcastic undertone tinting his voice tone while attempting to maintain the most benevolent smile on his catalog. 

The waiter chuckles in exaggerated glee. "I know, Mr. Donaldson. Your bill has been cleared by another customer," he clarifies, standing in front of Art with the straightest stance and hands intertwined in the manifestation of hospitality. The waiter clears his throat, "Actually, by the young woman over there," and discreetly points his finger at the stools by the bar gantry.

Art's gaze dashes over to a woman standing by the bar gantry. He can only see her back, not her complete complexion. Although he has internally accepted this demeanor as improper, he allows his eyes to scan over the woman's silhouette freely, lingering a little longer on her legs. In the background, he can faintly attend to the waiter talking about hotel-specific branch issues and how stays such as his and Tashi's benefit the hotel's branding -isn't this the Ritz Carlton?

"Yes, I agree." Art blurts out as soon as he realizes the waiter has concluded his monologue, his gaze glued to the enigmatic female standing five meters away from him.

"Thank you, Mr. Donaldson. Have a great night." Just as Art opened his mouth to greet him in return, the waiter had already shifted on his feet to approach another table.

Art reevaluates what he is about to do. Should he greet her, thank her, or gently communicate how unmannered it can be to buy a married man a drink? 

But also, what if it's an obsessed groupie attempting to instigate drama?

It doesn't matter. Buying Art Donaldson a drink is disrespectful. Literally everyone —quite literally everyone— who knows Donaldson knows he is married to Tashi Duncan!

Come on, a woman, unattended in a bar, buying me a drink? Art thinks.Of course, she has hidden intentions, he reassures himself. Art shifts on the armchair, resting his elbows on his knees, still pondering whether he should approach her. 

Why isn't he simply disregarding this and walking away?  

He hadn't felt so much excitement about something so childish in a while. It felt like being nineteen again. After hugging Patrick today, he sensed a heartwarming relief regarding Tashi cheating on him. But, on the other hand, he's a fucking human.

Fuck it. He just wants to chat with the girl and perhaps communicate that she shouldn't do that again. Right, that's it. 

Art picks up his belongings and strides towards her.

"Hey, sorry..." Art speaks, dragging the stool beside the woman and grinning warily at her. His soothing, recognizable tone of voice instantly captures her attention.

Art expected many things, but not a drop-dead gorgeous woman. A girl. She looks...young— not underage kind of young, but unquestionably not over twenty-five. On the other hand, as a well-known tennis player, he's had plenty of exquisite-looking women begging for attention; Tashi herself is stunning. Somehow, this woman left his lungs tightening for a sizzling second, which is concerning. 

Plus, her aroma. Jesus, the scent, Art thinks. He would continuously go weak on the knees when Tashi wore that damn tangy, dark cherry fragrance she had. He immediately identified the distinct smell.

"Mr. Donaldson, oh my god..." The girl's voice pitches high, and she extends her right hand in his stomach direction as if she had been rehearsing for this moment. "I didn't believe you would accept the drink," she adds enthusiastically. 

Her voice is too harmonious for his ears. 

Art stretches his hand and shakes hers. "Well, I didn't." Art retorts, unconsciously smirking at the girl's harmless bliss, "I was pretty much obligated to accept the free Negroni."

"Well, either way, I am honored," she says with a slight shrug and giggles, "Names Y/n; by the way, very nice to meet you, Mr. Donaldson. Big fan of yours"

"Nice to meet you too, Y/n," Art unpretentiously expresses. His facial expression goes abruptly blank as he realizes he might be snitching on himself. "Uh, Y/n, I don't wanna sound rude, but what you did... with the drink," he struggles to word it nicely, worrying about coming out as unpolite. He laboriously swallows as Y/n raises her eyebrows, expectant. "You shouldn't buy drinks to married men," he concludes.

Y/n lets out a gigantic gasp, "Oh my- this is so embarrassing," her hands fly over to her mouth, covering it in mortification, "I am so sorry, Mr. Donaldson-

"Please, call me Art," Art interrupts, a smirk rising on his face.

"Well, Art," Y/n corrects herself, now speaking with a mischievous undertone, still with an infectious grin plastered on her face. "I go to Stanford. I couldn't stop hearing about you —your skills. Well, I grew up in a household of tennis enthusiasts, and I, myself, am a tennis player. I just wanted to show my appreciation for what you've done for the tennis culture."

Art's cheeks feel hot. Heck, they are burning. 

"Oh.." he mumbles, mainly to himself out of amazement.

"I would never, don't worry, Mr. Donaldson- I mean, Art." Y/n reassures, emphasizing the never. But as she justified herself, a sad half smile crooked on her plump lips, "I mean... No one can deny you are very handsome, but I am a respectful woman-"

He unmistakably heard the last sentence but will bypass it for his mental stability. "It's fine, Y/n." Again, he runs over her words, interrupting, "I should be apologizing; I don't want to come across as an entitled asshole."

For some reason, Art can't stop feeding the conversation. You are a fucking horndog, Art internally insults himself.

"Let me buy you a drink as an apology," Art says bluntly, requesting clearance but simultaneously demanding. Y/n, on the other hand, has her eyes set on the blonde man in front of her, both gazes perforating each other. "I mean, if you are of age.."

She giggles.

"Twenty-two. Took a gap year," the girl admits, "and I wouldn't mind a Negroni," she adds, now faking a nonchalant accent.

Y/n can hardly believe the circumstances she has put herself in. She observes the man standing before her, deftly moving from how he calls the server to how he licks his lips after ordering the Negroni. He's so fucking hot, she thinks. She had only seen him through flat screens and once attended one of the numerous lectures he gave back on campus. 

But no, Y/n wasn't an obsessive stalker. Earlier that day, she had been at the New Rochelle Tennis Club with her father and the new newbie guy he was coaching —she can't even recall his name. Long story short, the guy had asked her on a date, and as a grandiose concurrency, Y/n had suggested the Ritz —they serve finger-licking cosmopolitans at their bar. It wasn't until she reached twenty minutes earlier by mistake that she contemplated bailing on her plans. Why? Because she laid eyes on the mouthwatering blonde man sitting by himself, ingesting a depressing ass-looking Negroni. 

She knew it was a hit or miss. But she would rather miss if it came to the possibility of messing around with the man of her most soaked dreams.

Y/n's nostrils pleasingly burn as she inhales a warmish, spicy fragrance emanating from Art's clothes and skin. She can't dodge the impulse to frequently peek at the opening of his shirt, revealing milky skin. Her breathing becomes erratic just by fantasizing about him without the fucking seersucker shirt. She knows he's fucking ripped.

Y/n chews on the bottom of her lip anxiously, contemplating her words. "By the way, what you did today was insane."

Art arches a brow. "You mean playing tennis?"

"That wasn't even tennis; that was an entirely different game," Y/n responds as if Art had offended her. "It felt as if the court was entirely yours," she overpraises him, feeling rewarded by the minuscule giggles escaping from Art's lips.

Art feels his heart warm up at the familiar sentence choice. "It is not a big deal, just a good tennis match," he elucidates. 

She rolls her eyes. "Sure... or maybe you are just too skilled for other players." Y/n softly laughs.

Art bits back the tiniest groan of frustration. He feels his dick hardening underneath the light-washed denim jeans he's wearing. He tries to comprehend if it is because of the sudden sensual undertone in her delicate voice, her unmistakable submissive look penetrated deep into her big eyes, or the fact that Tashi had not touched him below the hipline in months and turned him into a precocious motherfucker. Or it could be the alcohol making him horny. He hadn't noticed before how tight her clothing was —it took one swift glimpse at her body for Art to see her thighs spilling out of the hem of the strapless mini-dress. It took another one to realize she was now gently caressing his arm.

Art was convinced there was nothing left to wipe the carefully crafted agitated expression from his face. "Could be, yeah," he says, subsequently coughing to avoid strangling on his own spit. "I don't want to be seen as some kind of God."

"Well, you move like one," Y/n affirms, chuckling at her own filthy sentence, her fingers playfully stirring the brand-new Negroni sitting on the bar table with the cocktail straw. She licks her lips, "You know what I mean."

Bullshit. There is no way this girl doesn't want to fuck.

She dodges eye contact, but there is a peculiar shift in the air, and a smirk exponentially extends her lips.

"I know what you mean." Art snaps back, incapable of looking away from the cocktail straw now entrapped in between her glossy lips. 

His muscles and head feel more lightweight, but his ocean eyes remain entirely tied to her outline. 

Their bodies have shuffled negligibly closer—inappropriately closer. Art senses warmness filling his face from the subtle friction of their knees: the coarse texture of his denim and Y/n's smooth, bare skin.

From her peripheral vision, Y/n glimpses a security guard patrolling the hotel lobby. She makes eye contact with the robust man for a split second, whose facial expression reshapes in dull stunner as he peeks at who's sitting next to her. 

Y/n sets her crystal glass on the bar counter. "Thank you so much for the drink." 

"Wait. Are you leaving?" Art questions, with feigned etiquette that reeks of desperation. 

Y/n's eyes dart to the man standing near their stools. Art tracks her gaze and sighs. "You already gifted me minutes of your time and a Negroni. That's enough coming from Art Donaldson." 

Art hesitates. "They are not in my business." He practically whines, progressively revealing his despair to the young woman sitting before him.

"I still need to Uber home," Y/n excuses, pouting at her words. "A woman can't be alone that late-

"I can drive you." 

✩

The drive is around twenty-five minutes. 

Y/n quietly sits in the copilot seat of Art's Bentley Bentayga. By her left side, Art grips the steering wheel confidently, his fingers switching effortlessly over the controls as they drive through the streets of the suburban county of Westchester. She peers through the shadowy window glass on her side —there's a winter storm outside. 

"How many days are you staying in Westchester?" Y/n asks while her gaze stays fixed on the passing scenery framed by the window.

Art clicks his tongue. "Not much. Most likely leaving tomorrow morning."

"Did you do anything fun around the county?" 

"Well, a rich-people county isn't the most amusing place to visit." Art jokes, speaking with a devilish tease.

Y/n doesn't reply. Instead, her eyes quickly flicker to his silhouette under the fuzzy skyglow leaking through the car's transparencies. Art's blonde hair captures the faint illumination beautifully, each strand seeming to shimmer under the dim light. His muscles tighten at—

Red light.

When the car stops, Art twists his head to the right, his and her gazes collapsing. He runs his tongue over his upper lip before talking, "You mentioned something earlier..." he begins to say. 

In the stillness of the moment, the only sound is the soft hum of the engine idling.

"I mentioned many things," Y/n corrects. 

A faint crease of discomfort crosses Art's brow, and he shifts slightly on the red leather seat. Y/n examines each of his subtle hip and torso motions as he gets rid of the discomfort. Finally, again sitting still, he resumes. "Let me be specific. You mentioned I am handsome."

A sudden warmth spreads across her cheeks, an unmistakable flush of embarrassment.

"I don't think this is appropriate."

"I don't think neither of us cares about what's appropriate anymore." 

It feels as if the world has stopped for Y/n. It feels as if a spell had caught both of them, leaving them besotted, and fucking horny, and awaiting the other to give the—

Green light.

"I think there's a parking lot next to a store that shut down recently 3 minutes away."

That's all Y/n says. Art presses down the gas pedal and tightens his grip on the wheel to suppress some exotic sensations that rocket down his spine.

Raindrops splatter against the windshield and the car's roof, and the blonde guy continues to drive through a road of infinite rain-soaked side trees swaying in the wind's rhythm and closed shops. 

It takes four minutes and fifty seconds to reach a gigantic parking lot beside what once was a Dollar Tree. Although Y/n can scarcely appreciate the space due to the weather conditions and the tinted glass, she can see some faded, bright yellow parking lines now covered in dirt and droplets of rain. The place is totally empty.

Y/n's heart sprints ten times faster when the engine settles into a contented hum. Goosebumps flourish on her skin as serenity inundates the car interior—complete silence. The SUV has parked on a random corner.

And she doesn't want to look in Art's direction because she knows he's already looking.

She plays it credulously. "I think this is a great place to talk in peace," Y/n murmurs, finally turning her head towards him. 

The fleeting moment her eyes cross with his evokes a sense of vulnerability for the girl. Art's orbs shamelessly spark with a glimmer of mischief, like a predator stalking its prey. The unbridled desire is nowhere near disguised now, and Y/n knows the guy won't keep playing the innocent role anymore. Is buying him a drink disrespectful? Bullshit. But she's grateful the poor, troubled man will have some fun. She knew he'd surrender faster than expected. 

Yeah. Art had lifted the white flag as soon as he reached out a hand to grasp the door handle of his sexy ass Bentayga to open it for Y/n, and his eyes had flown by instinct to the girl's ass when she was hopping on his car.

Now, he can't tear his eyes off her lips. 

"I've had a fucked up day." Art suddenly breathes out. There's a steady rise and fall of his chest, but Y/n can tell he's struggling to maintain it. His eyes ascend to lock in with hers. "I want to forget who the fuck I am."

Y/n is drowning in the noise of her own accelerated heartbeat. "I can help you." Y/n's words shoot out in submission, haltingly batting her eyelashes at him.

It's humorous mainly because she has no idea what is happening in his life. She doesn't know the mess between Tashi and Patrick; the fact that Tashi allegedly fucked Pa—well, whatever. Y/n doesn't know. She understands the man is disturbed, though, because the instant she stepped inside the luxurious lobby of the Ritz Carlton, she could tell the man had no emotion on his face. She recalled watching his matches when she was younger, and one thing about Art Donaldson was the radiant vitality his presence brought to any room he was in.

It's evident that the radiance was gone. For whatever reason.

Their bodies draw closer, the only barrier being the gear stick and seat partition between them. Y/n can feel Art's warm breath clashing against her lips, a slightly intoxicating and crisp scent of gin climbing to her nostrils. She moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue before grabbing Art by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into her mouth. He briefly widens his eyes but reciprocates instantly.

He is the sort of kisser who goes slowly but deepens as much as possible, inserting his tongue everywhere attainable. Y/n tastes good and, heck, excellent —sweet and spicy, as if she chewed cinnamon gum before assaulting his mouth. The flavor and the satiny texture of her lips push him to near insanity; Art pumps his tongue in and out, desperately, sweeping against hers because of the faint, delicate moans leaking from her side every time he does it —it makes him vertiginous.

It isn't until Y/n sucks on his lower lip that he splits off to breathe. "No marks." Art forewarns with his face dropped in soberness, heavily panting.

He discerns something shifting inside of him when Y/n's beautiful features soften for a beat, casting a veil of a peculiar sentiment he's too emotionally dumb to interpret —bitterness? sadness? He can't tell. The fuzzy thoughts fade when her lips attack again, parting his with ease, allowing her tongue to slip inside. "Shut up." Y/n spits lowly between kisses.

A couple of sizzling minutes of pure, obscene french kissing pass before Art realizes the pressure underneath the light-washed denim over his crotch is tormenting him. His left-hand glides over Y/n's thigh and gently squeezes, letting her know he needs to move forward. At this point, he has readjusted the position of his body over the red leather seat, facing Y/n straight; the hand resting over her thigh gradually shoves the hem of the mini-dress upwards, revealing more skin and dangerously approaching her pussy.

The tempo of Y/n's kisses becomes unsteady with the sensation of his physical touch near such an intimate area. It felt weirdly mortifying for her to be this wet this early —her pussy felt slippery and willing to take whatever Art proposed. She breaks off the kiss out of involuntary reflex, with her gaze immediately descending on Art's left hand, too big for her, and skillfully positioning the lace of the light-pink panties aside.

If Art was a magician and opening her legs was a challenging magic trick, goddamn, he'd be a good magician. Y/n had no idea how, in such an undersized space, her legs had managed to spread that wide. The specific moment when Art's middle finger comes in contact with her wetness is a blur, but the filthy, low-pitched groan that his mouth emits as the first finger rubs her pussy lips will never be forgotten. Y/n unconsciously rocks her hips in search of more friction-

"Stay still." Art demands, chest rapidly going up and down. Although he attempts to sound demanding, his voice is weak in want and ridiculously desperate. Y/n's cheeks flame up when he begins toying with her clit, rubbing slow circles, with an equally attractive and irritating cocky grin resting over his face.

But she wants that one finger to go in. Y/n sighs in eagerness, muttering a series of pleasepleasepleases.

"Art..." Y/n mutters between choked moans, bucking her hips forward into his hand. Art gazes at her, intoxicated by her facial expressions and the mild tone of her voice, delivering such nasty noises. His eyes don't leave Y/n's face as he thrusts his middle finger past her slick folds. He feels his dick twitch at her exaggerated facial response.

What was one finger quickly became two, picking up their speed and twirling inside, hitting the sweetest spot. "Not a virgin, right? " Art abruptly asks, terrified but astonished at the tightness her pussy held, clenching down on his digits and squeezing. 

"No... oh my god—" Y/n yelps, hardly managing to articulate words as his fingers keep steadily penetrating her pussy. 

Y/n tilts her head back and instantly feels a trail of sloppy, wet kisses on her jaw; Art is nearly over her body, working his way downstairs and upstairs, too. The accelerated rhythm of his fingering ceases for a hot second as his available hand reaches her chest to unashamedly pull down the neckline of Y/n's mini-dress, freeing her tits and letting them bounce out of the expensive cloth. 

As a sheer coincidence and dissolving in pleasure, Y/n's eyesight dismounts in one of the tall buildings in front of the parking lot. What she sees is practically ironic. An immense billboard with Art's face crammed inside, by his side Tashi Duncan's iconic facial features, and an oversized Aston Martin logo. "Game Changer," the thing reads. Funny, she thinks. He is a game changer, though —not sure if he is the same kind Aston Martin broadcasts. 

But seeing his face and Tashi's painfully reminds her the man is not hers. 

In fact, the man has a whole wife.

"Fuck me." Y/n requests, still a complete mess, moaning, arching her back, breathless. 

And nothing happened where she thought the fire test lay. Art obliged. In fact, he seemed enthusiastic. He wants to make her his. Y/n modestly smiled at the thought.

"Yes... fuck, yeah." With a deft hand, he reaches down and unfastens the button of his pants; he eases the zipper down, and the faint sound of it sliding makes Y/n nauseated of anticipation.

Art reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a beautiful, black leather wallet. He flips it open, his brows furrowing in concentration as he sifts through its contents. With a muttered curse under his breath, he begins to dig deeper; Y/n doesn't understand what's happening —is he searching for a condom?

After eternal seconds, the blonde guy lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes his head, resigned.

Y/n sits beside him awkwardly, unhurriedly pulling up the neckline of her dress, covering her now shivering body.

"...So?" she questions.

He remains silent.

"I don't have condoms." 

"I'm on the pill." Y/n offers.

The look Art shoots at Y/n isn't gracious. In fact, it triggers a big spark of frustration on his face, eyebrows knitting together in a light scowl as he looks at her incredulously.

Then it turns worse when, by mistake, his gaze falls on the same billboard Y/n had seen earlier.

"I can't. Sorry." 

Y/n slowly closes her legs and adjusts her neckline. "Why?"

Art's eyes fall to his lap. "Well, starting from the fact I have a family-

Y/n interrupts. "Well, you didn't seem to care when you offered to drive a total stranger."

It was most likely the sassiness and the blaming in her voice that unexpectedly threw him off. Really threw him off.

"That's none of your business. I just took the opportunity of a warm hole."

In one swift, rampant movement, her hand connects with his cheek with a resounding crack, the sound echoing through the air like a crash. His head jerks to the side. A slap.

She had fucking slapped him.

With a trembling breath, Y/n doesn't think twice before she pushes open with unmeasured force the door of Art's fucking ugly car —or that's how she thinks of it now. The storm still persists, rain pouring down in sheets. Tears accumulate over her eyes as she steps out into the downpour, grabbing her purse tightly.

"Hey, hold on..."

She completely ignores Art's words, which get easily lost in the roar of the rain. 

But she turns to face him one last time, sitting on the pilot seat, visibly ashamed of himself —and still with unbuttoned pants.

"Fuck you. I hope you lose every single fucking tennis match." And with a forceful push, she slams the car door shut. 

As Y/n steps away from the vehicle, leaving a splash in the puddles on the floor, she wishes the man she met two hours ago had run after her and begged forgiveness. But of course, he didn't. Instead, she watched as the vehicle got started again and drove past her, quickly rejoining the road and disappearing in the darkness. 

✩

[cherienymphe]

Everybody Knows That I'm A Good Girl, Officer (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

WARNINGS: Dub-Con, power imbalance, abuse of power, degradation, manipulation, slight stalking, choking, semi public sex, mentions of cockwarming, mentions of gun kink, dom/sub elements, free use elements, jealousy

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: ...and everybody knows. Everybody knows...that he fucks you.

~

You didn’t know a thing about Coriolanus Snow.

Not until he quite literally cornered you in the meadow one day.

Peacekeepers came and went, especially in District 12, so you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any new face that appeared on the streets of your district in those blue uniforms. In truth, you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any of their faces. They all perfectly blended together into one faceless being that was merely a puppet of The Capitol, anyway.

However, standing in front Coriolanus Snow, you wondered how you missed him. Not because he was handsome—and he was—but because there was a hard glint to his blue gaze that told you he wasn’t the average capitol dog. Gun tight in his hand at his side, he stared at you like he wasn’t at all surprised to find you there.

He wasn’t.

You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to watch you, silent footsteps shadowing yours as he wondered what you were up to when you crossed the district line. He liked to watch you pick flowers and write underneath a tree and bring back the occasional caught animal for your ma and pa. He watched you play with the children in your district and help that old neighbor with her window…and steal food on occasions when your family couldn’t afford it.

“You could get into a lot of trouble for that.”

His tone was even and strong, but something about it told you that he didn’t want you to get in trouble for that.

“I know,” you told him, jutting out your chin as if challenging him to do something about it.

You said nothing, merely pressing your back to the tree when he moved closer, the gentle breeze ruffling the tall grass around his feet. You said nothing when he stood so close that you could smell him, wondering to yourself what a peacekeeper could possibly have access to that would make him smell so good. You even remained quiet when his free hand reached for yours, the softness of it shocking you, a sharp inhale when he turned your hand over.

Your palm was lightly stained from the bird you’d killed.

You curiously eyed him, a slight frown between your brows as he studied the skin. You drank in his prominent nose, full lips, and those unsettling blue eyes. Staring at them for too long actually made you uneasy, and when his gaze lifted to meet yours, you couldn’t look away fast enough. It only then occurred to you that you were out in the woods alone…with a peacekeeper who could do absolutely anything he wanted to you.

His next words surprised you.

“If someone other than me were to catch you…I can’t imagine what they’d do to you,” he murmured, making your frown deepen. “So, I would advise you to stop.”

By the way the corner of his mouth twitched, you knew that your shock and confusion was all over your face. When he dropped your hand, he pointed his gun at your catch of the day in a gesture for you to get your things, waiting for you to grab your dinner and your book.

You thought that he was letting you off the hook.

You thought wrong.

You learned that Coriolanus Snow was not a good man.

“Your daughter dropped these, ma’am, and I knew she’d kick herself if I didn’t bring these home.”

That smile on his pink lips was perfect, blue eyes twinkling when your mother thanked him profusely for bringing home your groceries—groceries you both knew you didn’t buy. When your eyes met his over her shoulder, that charming smile didn’t move an inch, and the longer he stared at you, the more uncomfortable you felt.

“Thank you,” you told him the next day, seeking him out.

He wasn’t technically on duty, and you found your gaze lingering on the dog tag around his neck. However, you found your gaze lingering on his face instead when he took a step closer, gaze unreadable.

“Anytime.”

It was a strange thing to say about bringing you food that you didn’t buy, and when he took another step towards you, your face pinched ever so slightly. You were all too aware of your close proximity, and when you felt his chest lightly brush against yours, your lips parted in realization. The moment it clicked had your blood running both hot and cold, uneasy and conflicted.

As you stared at each other, there seemed to be a lot of unspoken words between you, Coriolanus with one hand on the wall and you with one hand fidgeting with your shirt. You looked between his eyes, looking for some hint of hesitation, some evidence that deep down this wasn’t something he actually wanted to do…but there was none. There was a resolve in his gaze that felt all too familiar. It was the same determination you were sure was in your gaze anytime you swiped food for your household.

The same determination when your desperation won.

You took a deep shuddery breath.

“Anytime…?” you wondered, keeping your eyes on him.

Something in his face relaxed, evening out as he completely crowded you, now.

“Anytime.”

When his lips met yours, you didn’t exactly know what to do, feeling both unsure and sure at the same time. You were sure that you wanted to live comfortably and not have to wonder how you’d get your next meal, but you were so unsure of how this would end and what this would mean for you. You wouldn’t be the first girl to give herself to a peacekeeper or the mayor or whoever else she needed to just to ease the weight in her chest.

Coriolanus kissed you like he was the hungry one, lips moving against yours in a way that left you breathless. His hand wouldn’t stop kneading into your waist through your shirt, and his other found a home on your face, thumb brushing over your skin and tilting your head back. The only thing to pull you apart was a noise coming from inside the building you were pressed against, and when the blond man told you to hurry home, you did.

You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked obedience.

He wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed repeating himself, and you learned that quickly, so now when he told you to get on your knees, you didn’t hesitate. When he told you to open your mouth, you did, and when he practically begged you to look up at him, you did. Coriolanus would never beg, he would never do that, but it was evident in the way his voice strained—the way the words left him breathlessly.

Or maybe that was because you had your lips around his cock.

With a hand in your hair and a hand on your chin, he gently guided you to take him into your throat again and again. You were no virgin, but there were still a lot of firsts to be had for you, and sliding your tongue over the tip of him was one of them. The feel of his fingers massaging your scalp soothed you, made this less nerve-wracking, and to your surprise, it even stroked a slowly burning fire between your legs.

There was such a stark contrast between the gentle touch of his fingers in your hair and the harsh hold of his hand on your chin. It wasn’t the easiest to take all of him into your mouth, and you couldn’t swallow down the noise that escaped when he hit the back of your throat. His smooth baritone reached your ears when he gently shushed you, softly telling you to use your hands.

“Wrap them around me,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet room.

Coriolanus liked obedience…so you did.

Your hand slid along his length in time with your lips, twisting around his cock, an easy task with the help of the mess you were making. He didn’t seem to mind though, only groaning above you, and when you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, you took in the way his head was thrown back, the skin of his throat straining and bobbing as he swallowed.

When he lowered his head, you started to look away, but the tightening of his hand in your hair told you not to. You kept your eyes on his as best as you could, sucking your cheeks in and flattening your tongue against the side of his cock. Every bob of your head made him shudder, and you dropped your hand when his hands came to rest on both sides of your head.

Remaining still for the man standing over you, you kept your mouth open as he slowly began to push his hips forward. With every surge of them, his cock dipped into your waiting lips, sliding over your tongue and against the inside of your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks as he lost himself in his movements, blue eyes gazing down at you as he filled your mouth.

You didn’t know why—couldn’t understand it—but something about his outright use of your body and your lips had you squeezing your thighs together. It made heat settle in the pit of your stomach, twisting and burning violently until your not-so-subtle movements became noticed by him. In between his uneven breathing, a soft chuckle reached your ears.

“You’ll get your turn.”

…and he was a man of his word.

With the taste of him still on your tongue, Coriolanus had one forearm completely pinning your hips to the bed as he pressed his face between your thighs. Another first ripped away from you, wide gaze on the ceiling as you fought to keep from squirming. The feel of his tongue inside of you was jarring, and you couldn’t stop your toes from curling at the warm feel of it quite literally lapping at you.

Your hands came down to rest on his short blond hair, hips attempting to lift from the mattress, chest arching upwards towards the ceiling. When he hummed between your legs, you felt it all over, and you couldn’t stop the moans that climbed out of your throat. With him holding you down, the only appropriate thing to do was claw at whatever you could, turning your head from side to side.

It wasn’t enough for you to come into his mouth once. Coriolanus needed to know that he was the best you’d ever get, and even when you were out of breath and exhausted and overstimulated, he didn’t let your thighs go, only using them to drag you closer as he knelt between them. His perfect teeth winked at you when he leaned in to kiss you.

If your ma and pa wondered what kind of job you lucked out with to afford all of the food and clothes you started to bring home, they didn’t ask. Although, something in you suspected that they had an inkling of just what you had to do to bring home the freshest bread and the warmest clothes they’d ever had. You started to suspect that everyone did.

Coriolanus wasn’t exactly the most discreet, and you learned that he didn’t intend to be.

On the off chance you crossed paths in the street, he stopped you for all to see, voice lowering as he got really close and asked you how you were. You would feel the eyes of his peacekeeper friends on you as the unspoken questions lingered between you. Did you need more food? Did you need a new dress? You would tell him that you were fine, code for you didn’t need anything at the moment, and he wouldn’t try to hide his perusal of you, those unsettling blue eyes slowly dragging over your frame.

He didn’t seem the kind of asshole to brag about such things, but you weren’t stupid. Even without saying it, he made your arrangement abundantly clear. The way he talked to you, studied you, and ran his fingers over the back of your arm without a care as to who saw. Coriolanus had staked a claim on you, an unspoken display of ownership, and you wrote it off to some sick power trip.

…but you learned that Coriolanus Snow was a very jealous man.

That revelation struck you as odd because you didn’t think anyone would have anything he’d be jealous of, and you certainly didn’t think he’d be jealous over you. You were some average thieving girl whom he exploited the first moment he saw an opportunity to do so. Considering that he was willing to do it to you, you didn’t doubt that he was willing to do it to someone else should he find himself unable to have you anymore. That was what you believed anyway…

Until his fist was ruining the face of some District 12 boy you’d grown up with. You were far from friends, but he’d been a familiar constant in your life for years, and so sharing a drink with him while everyone danced to the live music on stage seemed like nothing at all to you. You didn’t even think there were lines to cross, a sentiment that was quickly corrected.

With one hand curled around your throat—holding you in place—there wasn’t any other option but to take Coriolanus’ thrusts. The sound of guitars and flutes and fiddles bled through the thin walls, everyone quickly moving on from the brief display of violence they’d witnessed. You could still remember the shock on your face as other peacekeepers pulled him off of the unsuspecting man who’d never been anything more than an acquaintance, really.

Your horrified gaze had met that of a familiar blue, and there wasn’t much time to do anything before Coriolanus neared you, reaching for the back of your neck as he walked you away from the crowd. It had been hard to ignore the numerous eyes following your movements, and you wondered now if they quickly moved on from the display because it was nothing or because they were too nervous to get involved with Coriolanus and the girl the whole district knew belonged to him.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out in some back room, your chest pressed to the table.

Your eyes were squeezed shut as he stretched you out, cock pushing into you and throbbing with every push of his hips. You knew that the words wouldn’t change anything, but you felt compelled to say them, anyway. His fingers were tight against your neck, and every time you reached up towards them, he only squeezed tighter. Despite the discomfort, you couldn’t stop your stomach from squeezing, coiling tight as you gripped him.

When he pulled you up so that your back was firm against his, his hold on your neck loosened a bit, and you took a deep inhale. His thumb was pressed to your jaw, and he brought his face down to rest on the other side of your neck where his arm didn’t rest, pressing open mouthed kisses there.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” he whispered against your skin.

It was the truth, and at your silence, he squeezed your neck again.

Your nails scraped against the table he fucked you on, upper body straining as he kept you upright and against him, hips lifting to push his cock into you with the kind of thrusts meant to make a point. When his teeth grazed your skin, you shuddered in his hold, and despite the fact that you couldn’t hear his laugh, you felt it deep within his chest.

“He can’t give you what I can…”

You started to tell him that you knew that, but Coriolanus didn’t let you.

“…so, don’t go thinking he can.”

“I wouldn’t…”

Your words died in the air when he pushed you back down, completely pressed against you and pinning you between him and the table.

“Wouldn’t you?” he hummed, his free hand trailing over your visible cheek. “Everybody knows your price.”

The demeaning words made your stomach turn, but the way he curved his hips against you only had you clenching down on him at the insulting insinuation.

“They see the nicer clothes…the better living conditions…and they know why. They know what you did to get that.”

His lips brushed against your skin with every word, and as if it make his point, he reached down between your legs to brush his thumb over you, making you gasp. With the circling of his fingers, you fidgeted beneath him, toes pushed to the absolute tip to get some reprieve and lips parted as you scraped and clawed at the table.

When he came inside of you, something he never did before, he held you down, forcing you to milk his cock until he was completely satisfied. The nice dress he’d gotten sewn for you was ripped, and you reached up to touch it with trembling lips the moment he let you go. He was so determined to get his hands on you the moment the door was shut that you liked to think it was an accident, but the way you were forced to wear the jacket of his uniform as you walked out made you think otherwise.

Even though Coriolanus was nowhere near you once you rejoined the crowd, his presence was still loud and clear. No one needed to be a genius to figure out where you’d been, and as you glanced around, you realized that he was right. The discreet looks and nervousness around you… Everyone knew.

…and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to have you whenever and wherever he wanted.

Whether it was in his bunk when he should’ve been on duty or in your room during the early hours of the morning when your pa was in the mines and your ma was asleep or between the openness of the trees when you were only amongst the grass and the birds. He didn’t like disobedience, and so, he didn’t like the word no. So, you never uttered it.

Even when you wanted to.

“Good girl,” he purred into your lips when you did as he wanted, reaching down between you and sliding yourself onto his cock.

It was late when he knocked on your door, gently telling your ma to go back to bed when you answered it. You didn’t know if you wanted to see the look on her face when you left with him, afraid of what you’d see. There was a rare stillness about District 12 when you crossed the district line, Coriolanus’ fingers brushing over your neck the entire way.

The only light was from the moon, his soft hands gripping your hips and guiding you over him. His gaze alternated between your face and his lap where you two connected. Occasionally he lifted his own hips, driving his cock up into you and making you gasp. His hands ran up and down your frame, kneading your skin and basking in the thin layer of sweat that clung to you—to both of you.

“Show me how bad you want it,” he’d murmur in the darkness, completely letting you go.

He opted for leaning back on his elbows, his own pink lips parted, blue eyes glinting under the light of the moon as he watched you fuck yourself onto his cock. Your hands pressed against his chest, keeping yourself upright as your lashes fluttered. There was a burn in your hips that ached too good to stop, the sound of you squeezing him and sliding up and down him loud to your ears.

“Make yourself come,” he’d whisper, refusing to touch you as his voice lowered. “Work for it.”

When you finally did tense on top of him, shuddering and pressing your nails into his chest, the blond man wouldn’t hesitate to circle his arm around your waist, flipping you before you could even catch your breath. Back pressed into the grass, he snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the air.

Under the cover of darkness, Coriolanus allowed himself to lose control, holding your throat and pushing into you—taking full advantage of having you at his mercy. He plunged his cock into your walls, praising how wet you were for him and how snugly he fit inside of you.

“Whenever I want,” he told you.

“Whenever you want,” you agreed, nails digging into his back.

When you returned in the early hours of the morning, your ma never acknowledged it. She never acknowledged how the house stayed stocked with food despite you never going to the market. Her only acknowledgement of the clothes sewn for her were quiet ‘thank yous’…but she knew. Everyone knew.

…and it bothered you less and less until it didn’t bother you, at all.

It couldn’t bother you.

…because if it did you would have to say no when Coriolanus wanted you to rest in his lap, cock fitting snugly inside of you as he held you there. You would have to say no when he brought you another dress he had made or the freshest groceries you would’ve never been able to afford. You would have to say no when he asked if you were his good girl, demanding you prove it as he slid his gun between your legs, telling you to remain completely still.

…but you didn’t say no to any of that because it didn’t bother you—because it couldn’t bother you. Even when the discreet looks were hard to ignore or your ma started to ask if you’d be out late or you started to feel cheap and used. You couldn’t let it bother you.

You were his good girl, and that was what he told you when he tied a pretty delicate ribbon around your neck for all to see one evening.

It was soft.

White.

Just like snow.

[t1oui]

i love the headcanon that james runs warm regulus runs cold so they're perfect together BUT what if it's the other way around.

james is this big cuddly looking strong guy and he is constantly FREEZING. he's so touchy not just because he likes touch but because literally everybody is warmer than him. he grabs regulus or lily or mary or pandora or remus's hand (any of his friends. any of them) and they immediately jump bc his hand is so cold.

then there's regulus. he's tiny and frail and everyone is always telling him to bring a jacket because he'll freeze but he WON'T. he's out in the snow in a long-sleeved t-shirt and slacks and nothing else and he's FINE. he might even roll the sleeves up.

when jegulus gets together james gets even clingier than usual the second he realizes how warm regulus is. people tell reg to bring a jacket when he goes out in the cold and he brings one for james. all of his hoodies are oversized b/c gender dysphoria (me too man, me too) and james steals them because they fit him perfectly.

just. cold james and warm reg

[arcanefox207]

The Warden.

GameWarden!Joel Miller x F!Reader Explicit 18+ MDNI | 3.8k WC | AO3

Summary: Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Power imbalance. DUBCON (could be considered NONCON). Reader is into it but she still doesn't have a choice. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. Explicit smut. Oral (male receiving). Fingering. Violence. Manipulation. Unprotected P in V. Cum talk. Creampies. Dark!Joel.

Notes: Please read the warnings. HUGE thanks to @joelmillerisapunk for beta'ing (love you, Odi!) Also FYI Game Wardens (also sometimes known as conservation / wildlife / DNR officer) can have broader authority than police and can even search your person / property without a warrant, are expert marksmen and usually work alone.

M A S T E R L I S T | A O 3 | N O T I F S

You saw the sign and ignored it, like you always did, as you walked down your favorite hiking trail. The one that few people knew about. The trail that was always peaceful and quiet and you rarely met another soul. Your hidden secret that you loved to escape to. The one that had been marked as “Trail Closed” for months now for reasons you could never quite figure out.  

As the forest thinned you finally reached the majestic bounty you sought. A quaint pond, nestled in the pines. The waters edge pebbled with rocks and ferns. Water lilies sparsely decorated the surface. What once was a sprawling picnic destination was now overgrown. Serene and abandoned to nature.  

You knelt down and ran your hands over the stones, picking up and admiring their unique beauty of the ones that caught your eye.

You were so preoccupied taking in the comforts of the world around you that you never heard him. Never even considered there were eyes on you, watching you from behind some overgrowth.

“Excuse me, miss,” his voice startles you as you stand quickly and turn around. “You’re in violation of State Park rules and regulations.”

“Huh?” Your words come out sounding dumb and caught off guard. You quickly scan for the source of the voice and see some movement in the bushes, revealing a man. 

He walks towards you, emerging from his hiding spot. A tall and broad man, head to toe in the standard olive green uniform that the wardens wore. A tactical belt and vest and a scoped rifle slung on his back. His toned physique mesmerizes you with each step forward.    

“It’s my sworn duty to enforce the law and enact justice as I see fit.” His words were robotic and rehearsed. 

As he got closer you could see he was an older man and incredibly handsome with some greys in his beard along his jawline. His hair was shorter with wavy curls, pushed back neatly with some silver catching in the sunlight. His skin weathered by the sun. His aquiline nose made his face look even more intense and powerful, matching his words. Broody and serious. This was a man who was in control.

“And you’re trespassing,” he lowers his voice, “in my territory.” 

You were trespassing. He wasn’t wrong. You felt your body flush with a wave of panic, with a hint of arousal crawling somewhere deep inside you. Lurking and waiting with intrigue and fear.  

“Area’s posted.” he says as he now stands in front of you. You are at a loss for words, caught doing what you thought was harmless.

He senses your panic and it rallies him to toy with you. 

“This is a protected wildlife conservation that you’re messin’ with, sweetheart.” He pauses and changes his tone to intimidate you as he leans in close. “And you see, I don’t like that.” 

You feel your heart race. Were you actually getting in trouble for taking an innocent hike in the woods?

“You know who I am?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest while he waits for you to speak. His veiny, chiseled forearms distract you. He looks so scrappy and dangerous. 

“The Game Warden?” You hesitate.

“That's right.” he nods with a cunning smirk. “Name’s Joel, but you’re gonna call me Sir.” He enunciates it firmly.

You feel your body overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. You were scared but also felt a pulsing go through you when he spoke. You didn’t want him to be upset with you. Everything about him was screaming: dangerous, do not piss off.  

“I’m sorry about trespassing. I didn’t know… Sir.” You added his title for good measure.

But you did know. You knew every time you walked past the sign at the entrance telling you not to. Bullshit was not going to fly here and only fueled him more. 

“Lying to an officer too?” He shakes his head as it hangs low. He circles you with intimidation, looking you up and down. Lecturing you with silence and waiting for your reparations to be determined.  

You can’t fight off that lukewarm feeling inside you that grows warmer. Slowly it gnaws away at your resolve. Seeing him with the tactical vest on that snuggly accented his chest and left his belly exposed with nothing but his green shirt covering it. The only spot that was vulnerable and soft. The rest of his body was strong, protected by his excessive gear, lean muscles and mean looks.   

You see his name badge embroidered with ‘MILLER’ and accidentally whisper his name out loud like it's a question. Wondering who this man is and what his intentions are. In the peaceful calm of the woods in the middle of nowhere, your whisper may have well been a shout.

“Officer Miller.” He corrects with authority in his tone as he leans over you. “And I’m gonna have to discipline that mouth of yours.”

You’ve never been in trouble with the law before, and certainly never had a run in with a Game Warden. You knew they were essentially lone wilderness cops with a god complex and few restrictions. Still, you knew this was far from acceptable behavior. Everything about how he was acting was wrong. You open your mouth to protest, but hesitate on his threats. He relishes in how you work it out in your head that talking back isn’t going to get you out of this. You can only bite your tongue so long.

“I’ll report you.” You threaten back, acting like you have some moral upper hand to hang over him. 

“Go ahead. Ain’t nothing you can do about your situation right now, sugar plum.” He scoffs. “Not to mention, s’your word against mine.” He stops circling and leans into your ear as his southern drawl makes the words sound smooth and buttery. Hot and melting on his breath as they drip out of his mouth. 

“Wanna take a guess who wins?” He says deviously and you can feel his patchy beard scrape against your jaw as he pulls away. A shiver pulses through you, right down to your pussy. Beating to his unsought touch. 

Why is this turning you on so much?

“You see darlin’, I’ve been watching you for a long, long time.” He circles again. “And you keep breaking the rules.”

Your heart races. This was getting serious. The realization hits that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it, and that is exactly his intention.

“On your knees, and hands where I can see ‘em.” he barks. 

You obey, folding under his commands. Hoping your obedience would lessen the blow. 

You drop down gently unsure of what exactly he was playing at, treating you like a violent criminal. You stretch your arms out to your sides with your palms up in submission. He stops just in front of you, scooching down so he is eye level. A tiny grunt as his knees bend. Tobacco and leather scents accompany him. 

“I’ll let you off with a warning… if you promise me you won’t be doing it again.” He offers. Sweet words coming out slow and sticky like honey.  

“I won’t. I promise. It won’t happen again.” You quickly plead. Foolishly hopeful this was it. Ignoring the conditional implication of his terms.   

He stands back up with his arms crossed before raking one of his hands through his hair, thinking. He wasn’t buying what you were selling. 

He paces in front of you. The obscene bulge in his pants was impossible not to notice as he parades it past your sightline. Back and forth, back and forth. He was packing more than just a firearm. 

He stops directly in front of you so your eyes are mere inches from it. You look all the way down to his feet in an attempt to hide the red that flushes your face. Trying to dismiss your own arousal that was getting louder and wetter. 

He reaches down to your chin and cranes your neck up to look at him with an urgency. 

“Gonna’ need some convincing, sugar plum.”

Fuck...

He releases you and walks to the nearby weathered picnic table and lays his rifle down. He unsnaps his utility belt that was strapped over his waist and leg and tosses it along with his handgun in tow. It made his broad shoulders look even wider with his waist unhindered by the bulky gear.

The uppercase “WARDEN” embroidered on the back of his green tactical vest serves to remind you that he is an officer of the law. It taunts you as he takes his sweet time laying out his things neatly on the table while you wait with anticipation for whatever was happening next.  

As he turns to walk back towards you, snatched in his vest, he tries to conceal the smirk pulling up from the corner of his mouth. You hate how good he looked, as if it could ever excuse how disgusting he was behaving.  

He stands coolly just a foot in front of you and unbuckles the modest leather belt. The metal clasps clank loudly as he lets it hang down and unzips. He clocks your reaction as he pulls up his shirt enough to show his messy thatch of hair trailing down his lower belly.   

He can’t be serious… 

Reaching a hand inside his boxers he pulls them down slowly as his cock peeks out. Big and fat and leaking. Aching to be touched. 

He is serious.

His eyes are focused intently on yours, watching them widen as you take in his cock. It's just in front of your nose as you look up and sit back on your haunches.

“Go on,” he growls and lowers his voice. “Convince me.”

He reaches his hand around his cock and pumps it. The broad head glistening in his precum as he drags his hand down his shaft. You wonder how long he had been watching you and if he had been stroking himself before he approached you. Maybe this interrogation was all foreplay for him. In fact, you were certain it was.   

The hot feeling surging in your core surprises you. You were actually turned on by this pig. Still, you knew this was beyond fucked up. You hesitate with what to do next, conflicted by his abuse of power and the inappropriate way your body was betraying you.     

“You gonna disobey a warden?” He threatens, getting impatient. 

You wonder what if you refused? What if you didn’t play his game? What would he actually do? It still didn’t feel like there was an option other than what was right in front of you, demanding your obedience. 

This was only ending one way. His way. 

“No, sir.” You swallow and fight back the tears. You place your palms and claw your fingers into his thighs as you sit up straight. You start to open your mouth and look up at him with glossy eyes. Conceding to him. 

You catch that spark of darkness igniting in his eyes. Burning hot and formidable as it spreads through him. Your misfortune was making him harder.

He parts your mouth open with the tip resting on your bottom lip. He teases it in and out, letting you feel the weight as the ridge catches on your lip. 

God he was big.

“Give it a kiss first and be real polite.” 

You close your lips over the tip and appease him with your gentle touch. Polite even. You suckle it delicately, drawing out beads of saltiness as it drips onto your taste buds. You can’t stop your natural impulse to flick his slit with your tongue and it makes him stiffen even more, twitching in response.

“Good girl.” he praises as he tangles his free hand in your hair. You wince as his firm grip pulls you closer to him. He pushes into your mouth. Inch by inch. The hand on his cock held it steady until you were adjusted to his size. He lets go and slides his hand above your nape, letting you take the full weight of his cock as you hollow your cheeks.

He was so thick. 

You decide to give him something he wants without asking, attempting to entice him to be kinder. His roughness was starting to hurt when he pulled at your hair and dug into your skin. Relaxing your mouth he pushed further in without your protest. Nestled tight in your warm and wet paradise. You notice his urgency shift.  

“Nice and slow. No need to rush.” He commands as you take him deeper. This order sounds more like it's for himself so he doesn’t cum too early. You can feel how close he is. He was ready to burst the moment you dropped to your knees. 

You gag as the head hits the back of your throat.   

“Oh, you sound pretty like that.” He moans as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Choking on my cock.” He makes a guttural sound as he nudges his cock even deeper into your throat. He was impossibly large as he fights to stuff you full.  

“Hold still.” He fucks into your mouth. Harder. Harder. Harder. Pulling your hair too tight and pushing your head too far onto him as he bucked into you.

With tears in your eyes making your nose run you can hardly breathe. Gasping and choking  and a cock stuffed in your mouth, bruising your throat with each plunge.

He snarls as he looks down to you, locking eyes. Blown out. Feral. Dark and desperate like he was giving in to his wildest, forbidden desires with no regard for you. It was a selfish need he was taking for himself and only himself. You were nothing. A wet hole for his cock to fuck.  

He was coming undone. His moaning and panting echoing across the serene pondscape and tainting your safe escape forever. Even that memory he was taking from you. 

You were waiting for it. Bracing for his hot spend to pour into you but instead he slowed. Thrusting deep into you with a grunt before dragging out his wet, dripping cock. He winced as it popped out of your mouth and you gasped for air.

This sick fuck was edging himself. 

He wanted more. Needed more. 

“Get up.” His haggard, breathy words bite at you.

He lifts you up by your hair. You quickly comply to relieve the pressure on your scalp as you stumble to your feet. A whine escapes you as he lets go roughly. 

“Gonna make sure you learn your lesson today.” He gestures to the picnic table just a few steps away and you shamefully go to it. 

He pushes you to lean over the bench and bends you in an ‘L’ shape. You press your arms against the seat to hold yourself up. He drags his hand down your back and around to your hips, admiring your delicate form laid out before him. He wanted to lose himself inside you.

He drags a hand between your legs and feels your cunt hot and wet against your shorts. He lets out a growl as his fingers get soaked along your seam. 

You hate how good it feels to have him touch you where you ache for friction.

“Mmm…” he groaned as he breathed in your arousal on his fingertips. “Knew you wanted this cock inside you.” He ruts his hardness against your ass. 

He slides his hands over your back. Over your hips. Down the sides of your legs until he stops abruptly. Fingering at something jagged in your pocket. Something you forgot was there. 

“What's this?” 

Your heart stops. You can tell from his tone that he knew exactly what it was.

He slips his hand in your pocket and pulls out two shiny stones you had collected from the waters edge.

Fuck.   

“Caught stealing from the cookie jar.” He clicks his tongue to scold you. He was stacking his case with further evidence to hang over your head.

“Oh, Darlin.” He fakes a sympathetic tone. “You’re in big trouble now.”

It was then you realized he knew all along. He was watching your every move. He was waiting for the right moment to manipulate you to his will. 

“Bad girl. Larceny is gonna cost you more than just an apology.” He drops the rocks carelessly and grabs your waistband, pulling your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one motion. You gasp as he makes you step out of them as he pushes you forward so your knees are on the bench seat. You catch yourself on the edge of the table. Half naked, exposed and totally fucked. 

“Spread 'em nice and wide for me.” He knocks your legs apart with his knee as he stands behind you, his cock notched against your entrance and it sparks an adrenaline surge inside you when you feel his tip press into you. 

“Please!” You beg him. “Please stop. I’m not letting you fuck me!” You spit out with an attitude. This was a line too far. A line he was intentionally pushing to see how far he could go before you fought back. 

Unsurprising to you, he liked playing with fire.  

He reaches out and grabs your neck with his wide grip, roughly pinning you prone against the table so you can’t move. He leans over, and hovers low to your ear as his shaft drags against your seam. 

“Ain’t making you do nothing, sugar plum.” He pauses and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo as he prods you gently with his nose. Tantric and hungry with his movements. 

“I can take you now and then we’ll be done with it, or I can take you in. S’your choice.” He loosens up his grip on your neck and sits back slightly. He feels the way you tremble under his touch, and the way your cunt throbs against his heat still pressing against it.

You feel it too. Something you can’t explain. A primal feeling of desire. Surrendering to your most basic human needs. That having him inside you might not be so bad. A rationalizing in your brain that you did wrong after all. It’s only sex. 

Only sex. You’ve certainly done worse with lesser men under the guise of alcohol. 

“I can promise you, they won’t be nearly this forgivin’ at the state prison.” He traces his finger down your spine, being delicate and gentle. Tracing until his finger runs into his belly pushed flush against you. He leans back and grabs his cock. Painfully hard and still soaked from earlier. He presses the head right against your swollen clit and rubs it against you. 

You let out a moan and he knows he has you.  

“Tell me you don’t want this. That you don’t want to cum all over my cock.” He strokes your clit with his head again and again. Knocking at your door and waiting for you to answer. 

“I’ll make it real good for you, sugar plum.” Your clit pulses on his cock. Needy and hedonic. Forsaking any restraint you have left to say no.

You take a deep breath and curse under your breath, curling your fingers around the edge of the table as you sit up and face forward.

“Get on with it.” You concede. 

He smiles wickedly. He was always going to get what he wanted in the end.

With you still sitting on your knees he locks his body against yours, his feet planted firmly on the ground. He pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest and wraps a hand around the front of you, rubbing and pinching at your clit with his rough fingers and dipping them into your hole. Spreading your slick. Stretching you open as he scissors his fingers.    

His body against yours was so much bigger. Broad and strong. You were the mouse and he was the lion about to pounce. His heat piercing through your skin. You felt him line up at your entrance, nudging you with his tip. 

There is no more patience or preparation. He needs to fuck you now. Needs to have that friction choking his cock that has been rock solid for too long. Without warning he thrusts into you again and again and again. Each time a little deeper and harder. His fat head catching on all your ridges as your pussy grabbed onto him.

It felt so fucking good and you hate it. You hate him.  

He stretches you more than you’ve ever felt before. The initial pain subsides as he rubs your clit fiercely with his fingers. The pleasure inside you builds. He kept his word that he would make it real good for you.  

He puts his leg up on the bench for leverage and bottoms out inside you with a grunt as he pulls you down on his cock. Fucking up into you and impaling you with his cock.   

Your moans run away from you, loudly filling the air with obscenities. You feel your climax building up inside you. You’ve never been fucked so hard in your life and you are soaking him. You know he won’t last much longer.

“Please..” you beg him between moans. 

“Please what?” he snarls as he fucks you harder, his cock ready to spill. 

“Please... Sir. Pull out,” you beg him.

He laughs at your ridiculous request and ignores you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you hard against his body. One hand wrapped around and splayed over your belly and the other curled around your breasts and pushing on the front of your throat. He had you held so tightly to him there was no way you could stop him. 

Your climax tears through you. 

“Carry in… Carry out.” He recites the most basic of park rules between grunts while you brace for it. “Leave nothing behind.”

He releases into you. His hot cum coating your deepest walls as he empties into your cunt with the loudest orgasm. He pushes you down prone and fucks it deep inside you before he starts to soften, making sure you know he was deliberately filling you up with his seed.

He collapses on you and you breathe together for a moment. He leaves an unexpected kiss on your shoulder and another on your neck, silently thanking you for letting him use your body. 

“Next time pay attention to the game cams, sugar plum.” he nods up at a nearby tree and he gives a side smile. Mocking your mistake. 

He withdraws his cock from you and lets you fall forward, his cum already running down your legs. He eyes your mess with a smirk, pleased with his conquest. 

“I’m always watching.” He says with a wink.

Tagging some cool people that I love very much and fellow Joel Hole comrades (please note if it’s too dark for your taste it’s totally ok to skip!)

@magpiepills @for-a-longlongtime @milla-frenchy @itwasntimethatdidit40 @youandmeand5bucks

@toxicanonymity @wethairjoel @evolnoomym @almostfoxglove @beardedjoel

@aurorawritestoescape @hellishjoel @lotusbxtch @murder-wife @joelstummy

@pearlessance @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @sawymredfox @macfrog

@slimybeth69 @whocaresstillthelouvre @joelsdagger @baronessvonglitter @covetyou

@chronically-ghosted @skbeaumont @yourcoolauntie @yopossum @beefrobeefcal

@sp00kymulderr @moonlitbirdie @wheresarizona @syd-djarin @punkshort

@sin-djarin @guiltyasdave @strang3lov3 @frannyzooey @tightjeansjavi

@cavillscurls @gasolinerainbowpuddles @pedgito @survivingandenduring

@ozarkthedog @mountainsandmayhem @schnarfer @pedrospatch @penvisions

[wileys-russo]

are requests open? if so could you do a comfort blurb the prompt “i could really use a hug right now” with alessia? thanks!

need a hug II a.russo

"oh for fuck sakes!" you swore as you knocked over a pot plant, dirt and rocks spilling out everywhere, groaning as you flicked off the vacuum.

the house falling you silent you gingerly moved the vacuum out of the way, sighing as you hunted around in the cupboard beneath the sink to try and find the dustpan and broom.

"where has she put it?" you huffed, your girlfriend having an infuriating habit of using something and never placing it back where she found it, eventually fishing it out from the bottom of the pantry.

squatting down you began to sweep up the mess, only you'd barely begun before the brush promply snapped in half. "are you joking?" you had to laugh in disbelief, now only holding the handle.

"how does that even happen?" you grunted, grabbing the jagged brush and trying to sweep up as best you could, dropping it into the garbage and vacuuming up the rest before trying to repot the poor plant as best you could and setting it aside.

you were interrupted by a few short sharp knocks at the door, grateful you hadn't started the vacuum yet and hurrying over, well aware you currently looked an absolute state.

thankfully it was only the post man and with a smile you collected the few packages addressed to your girlfriend, closing the front door and leaving them on the corner of the bed for her to deal with once she got home.

you knew alessia had been stressed lately, she was so close to finally finishing her studies but juggling that, the podcast, brand deals, appearances and football, she did well to hide it but you knew her well enough to see how thin she was wearing.

the blonde was already gone before you'd woke up, having a photo shoot and interview before training and you knew she had a rather large assignment looming over her which she'd spend hours doing once she got home.

so you'd elected to work from home today which consisted of two meetings you'd moved to the morning and an hour of admin, and freed up your entire afternoon to try and make the house as lovely and tidy as possible.

your girlfriend proudly half italian had taught you how to make pasta many times only you'd never attempted it by yourself, but you'd ducked out to the grocery store to make some for the pair of you for dinner, determined for her not to lift a single finger tonight.

only your grand plan of this large self care evening in which you'd oh so keenly do whatever your girlfriend needed to unwind was being apprehended by one thing, the fact that someone, somewhere, with some unknown grudge against you seemed to have cursed you the most rotten luck in which nothing was going to plan at all.

the tipped over plant wasn't even the start of it, accidentally near blinding yourself with a bottle of toilet bleach as you'd wrestled to get the cap off and slipped on your freshly mopped floor, almost tipping it all over your face as you'd just capped it.

then there was your coffee, a slight lapse in your concentration meaning you'd burnt your milk and then had no more left to remake it, struggling through a very unwelcome long black instead.

thankfully the next hour passed incident free, a satsified click of your tongue as you arranged the lilies you'd gotten for your favourite blonde in the crystal vase which was a present from her mum on your first christmas with the russo's.

but now perhaps the biggest mission of all, dinner.

a brief glance at your phone and you smiled seeing a few messages from your girlfriend, fingers flying as you shot back a reply and tucked your phone into your pocket.

for some extra support you'd found a video online to run you through making the dough, which you knew would be the hardest part of it all as you'd watched even your semi pro pasta making girlfriend mess it up before.

your first attempt, was an absolute dud and the only thing it would be feeding was the garbage bin.

you were beginning to get the hang of kneading while also being acutely aware that any minute now alessia would be home, and you wanted as much of this done as possible because you knew your girlfriend well enough that her first instinct would be to takeover.

sure enough not even a moment later you heard the keys in the door, almost done with putting the dough through the pasta roller and withholding a laugh as you heard a thump and a curse ring out.

"welcome home clumsy!" you called out, the blonde appearing with a playful glare and blowing you a kiss, holding up her gym bag which you knew no doubt was full of dirty laundry she'd want to put on soon as possible.

it all seemed to be going well, dough rolled and ready to be shaped, but alas, your rotten luck struck again.

you rounded the counter to grab something, but having just washed your hands and not drying them they'd clearly dripped onto the floor and before you could even blink you'd slipped and your back hit the floor.

but no, of course that wasn't it, your hand collecting the half full bag of flour and sending it toppling down on top of you, a squeal leaving your lips and footsteps thundering toward you as your girlfriend skidded into the kitchen, concern clearly plastered all over her face.

"what happened?" alessia breathed out, eyes wide at the sight before her and you buried beneath a small mountain of flour, hand smacking over her mouth as you exhaled sending a puff of white up into the air.

"i could really use a hug right now." you mumbled, grateful somewhat for the flour smeared across your cheeks covering how red they'd flushed with embarassment.

"oh baby." alessia bit her lip clearly trying to conceal a grin, gingerly treading her way across the kitchen toward you. "c'mere." the striker stood over you and offered her hands, taking yours within them and very carefully pulling you up to your feet.

you exhaled tiredly into her chest as without a second thought the taller girl wrapped you in a hug, holding tightly as her hand rubbed up and down your back soothingly.

"i was just about to say everything is so clean." the blondes body vibrated with laughter against yours as you let out a pitiful whine. "i was trying to give you a lovely clean home and hot dinner to come home to." you sighed, words a little muffled against her jumper which was now covered in flour. "hey." you looked up as hands cupped your cheeks.

"i'm coming home to you, and that's always more than enough." your girlfriend spoke firmly, bright blue eyes locked with your own as you could only nod. "i love you." you leaned up to kiss her, frowning when the blonde craned her chin away.

"hey! kiss me." you scowled, a grin curling into her lips which again dodged yours. "you are covered in flour." alessia laughed as you rolled your eyes. "so you don't love me, noted." you sighed dramatically, pulling away from her.

"oh no no no, don't you be like that." your girlfriend was quick to capture you back in her arms, spinning you around so your back was pressed against the counter.

"kiss me then." you challenged with a sly smile, the footballer sighing dramatically as if you'd just asked her to build you a house, a scoff leaving your lips before they were promptly pressed against her own.

"i love you too pretty girl."

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Don’t Prove I’m Right - [Part 4]

♥ prev

♥ series masterlist | main masterlist

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ series synopsis: you didn't think twice about the dj you hooked up with until you found out you were pregnant. turns out the man wasn't just some dj but a famous formula 1 driver.

♥ chapter synopsis: after his reckless decisions, lando attempts to make it up to you. it took some convincing from oscar but you eventually gave in and had a conversation with him.

♥ smau + written - fc: girls on pinterest - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: its been MONTHS since the last chapter I am so sorry lovelies!

liked by logansargeant, lilyzneimer, lilymhe, and 120,538 more

yourusername ever since @/logansargeant and @/oscarpiastri got camila these plushies she’s been obsessed with them

view comments

yourbestfriend please don’t tell me the deer is being replaced 😔

yourusername camila would never

lilyzneimer shes just too cute to not spoil

user1 haven’t seen lando in any of her posts recently 😕

user3 they did JUST get back to Monaco so I wouldn't be worried

user6 they're not dating either so I don't see why he would be

user4 we need a godfather reveal

logansargeant it’s me

oscarpiastri its me

carlossainz55 … it’s probably not me 😕

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

It had been a couple of days since your last conversation with Lando and a knock on your door drew your attention away from your phone.

A giant box was sitting on the doorstep alone with no sender information. You hesitantly brought it into the living room and grabbed a pocket knife to cut through the clear strip of tape. The box quickly burst open from the pressure of the deeply packed objects—about a dozen jellycats and an apology note placed on top. 

It was clear to you that this package was from Lando, and it was a very sweet gesture. He’d clearly seen the post you made the previous day and was trying his best to make up for his mistakes. You sighed and folded the note up, setting it on your couch. You pulled out a soft pink bunny from the box causing Camila to squeal and hold her arms open. 

You still hadn’t checked your texts from Lando, but Oscar was right. You couldn’t ignore him forever. Lily offered to take you out for the night in order to clear your head. You were extremely grateful for Lily’s support and generosity ever since you met her. She had truly become one of your best friends throughout this experience.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by lilymhe, carmenmundt,, and 102,843 more 102,473 more

yourusername girls night

tagged; @/lilyzneimer

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lilyzneimer <3

user1 we love a self care queen

user2 she’s so pretty

alexandrasaintmleux we should all hang out together <3

francisca.cgomes i second that

yourusername i’m so there

user7 i love that the wags include her 🥹

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

You sat next to Lily with a glass of white wine in your hand, conflicted. Of course you were. Like Oscar said, you had to confront him at some point, but it was going to take a lot for you to trust Lando again. You pulled your phone out of your purse.

You got the response pretty much immediately.

You sighed and turned to Lily, "I'm gonna go talk to Lando."

"Good luck," she said with a smile, and took another sip of her drink.

You picked Camila up off the couch and bundled her up in a small yellow blanket.

-

You were at his apartment in about twenty minutes. You knocked hesitantly, tapping your nails on the case of your phone and jangling your keys in attempt to reduce your anxiety. Lando opened the door in silence, letting you into the room. He sat back down on his couch and you followed, cradling your daughter in your arms and choosing to stand up as you spoke.

“Listen Y/n, I know what I did was-“

"I'm not going to take your child away from you,” you stated, cutting him off. “You said you want to be in her life, but you have to keep that promise."

He nodded and ran his hands across his face. You wanted to get straight to the point with no excuses. You had heard all of his apologies already.

"Lily talked to Kmag and found her a babysitter, so we're good on that end. But, you still have to earn back my trust to be alone with her and if anything like this happens again I won't be nice."

He looked back up at you, “It won’t ever happen again, I swear. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

”I agree.”

There was some awkward silence as you gently sat on the arm rest of the couch.

You looked down at your daughter, “She may not fully get it yet, but you’re her dad and she loves you,” you locked eyes with Lando again. “You chose to raise her with me, so you need to take responsibility.”

He nodded, “I understand.”

"Good," you responded, standing back up and stepping towards the front door. You paused without turning your head back towards him, "Good luck in Imola.”

With that you were gone.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: this was short, I am aware! there was originally supposed to be more to this chapter but I decided to turn it into its own whole part lol :) I've already started working on it so stay tuned!

taglist; @hc-dutch, @papaya-twinks, @2pagenumb, @formulaal, @erin-odonnell04, @drunkinthemiddleoftheday, | @kissesandmartinis, @ironmaiden1313, @six-call, @wolflover384, @tremendousstarlighttragedy, | @ilivbullyingjeongin, @celestialend, @silentreader128, @wolflover384, @ellesssssxzxz | @clowngirlsstuff, @ln4smiamitrophy, @whoneedsgeorge, @chezmardybum, @warlike-morning, | @gigicisneros, @hard4ndsoft, @eveninggstar, @jolixtreesunn, @acesofspadess,| @formulaonebuff, @notpeachybby, @shesmugirl, @mxdi0, @ririyulife, | @kravitzwhore, @bellinghambby22, @helaenatargaryensfavoritebug, @maplesyrupsainz, @harrysdimple05, | @pippyth3hippy, @noneofyourfbusinessworld, @littlegrapejuice, | @majx00, | @si1ver06 | @weekendlusting | @landossainz,

@jxnellat, @minkyungseokie, @evie-119, @mxryxmfooty @tvdtw4ever, @ivegotparticulartaste, @taylawillson23,

@mountvesuvu, @arteme, @plotpal, @landorris, @mbioooo0000,

@heavy-vettel, @loganmay19, @formula1-motogpfan, @herexpertcollector, @teti-menchon0604,

@ysabay, @cleopatrick-123, @nichmeddar, @glai1023-blog, @sltwins,

@harrysdimple05, @toriiez, @theonottsbxtch, @fastfactory

[patricia-taxxon]

im gonna say it. even though they may sometimes earn my sympathy, i envy the ability that cis men have to simply get the pressure off of them. just imagine for a second if nick robinson was transfem, or if lily orchard were a cis man. i feel a toxic urge in my chest whenever I see a cis man youtuber talk about being cancelled and I just want to grab him by the shoulders and shout "just shut the fuck up, whether you're innocent or not you can simply shut the fuck up and it will be as if this never happened, literally just shut the fuck up."

[novvabee]

The Wrong Color

Summary: poly!jegulily x reader, Y/N and Lily wear the boys jerseys at the Gryffindor vs Slytherin game.

cw: suggestive

word count: 1.3k

The lovely Scottish morning light was always so peaceful when it glowed through the black lake and the Slytherin dorm room windows. The light fractured and bloomed along the green bed sheets you were tangled in. It would have been perfect, if only your boyfriend wasn’t running around the room looking for all his quidditch gear.

Regulus always gets like this before games, but especially games against your rival house, the house that your other boyfriend and girlfriend are a part of; Gryffindor. You love the other half of your relationship, but man, could they be annoying. You liked the rivalry, it made things fun, especially since it was two against two, you and Regulus, and Lily and James.

Regulus was worked up last night, meaning you two didn’t get much sleep, meaning you both woke up late and now he was rushing to get to breakfast before the match. 

“You know this is your fault right?” he explained to you. “If you hadn’t stayed the night-”

“My fault?” you interrupted sounding amused. “If I’m remembering correctly, it was you begging ‘please please, I’ll do anything-”

It was his turn to interrupt you, this time with a kiss. He broke away and smiled down at you. He looked godly in this light.

“You'll be in the stands cheering for me today right?” he asked, the smile still lingering on his lips.

“Of course not! You know I can't play favorites,” you explained “Plus why would I? I hate you.” You said, joking of course.

He raised his brows and cocked his head to the side. “Oh really? Was that hatred last night?” he asked before kissing you again, laying you back on the bed and climbing on top of you. 

You really wish you could stay like this, but you giggled and pushed him off, swatting at his arm saying “You’re already late! Go!”

He took your command and breezed out the door of his unshared dorm room, a perk of being a prefect. 

Right, now it was your turn to get dressed, only you and Lily had been scheming. You were going to show up in James’s spare Gryffindor jersey, and Lily in Regulus’s. You had always just worn your own house colors or the correlating boy's extra jerseys, but you and Lily wanted to see their reactions. 

You pulled on the red and gold, pairing it with some jeans and converse, a very casual, very James look. You looked at yourself in the mirror, it felt so unnatural, but that was the fun of it.

You met Lily outside your common room before heading to the stands to get a good seat. 

  Seeing her in the green and black jersey was odd, but she was striking, as always. The green brought out the colors in her eyes, making her red hair stand out even more. She was gorgeous.

“You look good in green.” you blushed as you told her.

She scoffed as she took you in. “You look good in red,” she said. “Come on, we should get going before all the front row seats are taken,” she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her side and kissing your temple. 

You two caught up with Marlene and Dorcas, both sporting their own house colors, Marlene in her own jersey, and looked at you and Lily in slight bewilderment. 

“Uh, I think you two grabbed the wrong tops when dressing this morning.” Marlene examined, raising an eyebrow at the pair of you.

You looked at Lily, then back at your friends. “Huh, guess we were rushing.” you said, smirking. Lily nudged you with her hip, but the four of you continued on walking to the pitch.

Once there, you had gone right up to your usual spot, Peter had dutifully saved you all seats. You took yours, front and center, and waited for Lily to return from the concessions stand with the butterbeer you asked for. 

You turned and made small conversations with Peter about the previous quidditch matches and yesterday's boring potions lecture. 

“Oh, uh… by the way, what’s with the uh,” Peter said pointing to your choice of jersey.

“Just wanted to be supportive, that’s all,” you said with a fake tone of innocence.

He chuckled. “Yes but, on today of all days? They might just knock each other off their brooms.” 

“Oh don’t worry, Pete,” you said, “Lily is in Regulus’s.”

All of your friends knew about your relationship, and were happy for you all. They never judged or misunderstood anything, something that your entire group of friends was known for, being accepting and understanding of all types of love. 

They did, however, love to see the games the four of you played with each other. You four were known to prank and tease and provoke each other, but it was always in good fun and always stemming from the house rivalry. Other than that, the four of you didn’t play when it came to your relationship, you were wholly devout to each other, no matter what house you may belong to. 

Lily came up the stands, promised butterbeer in hand, and sat herself right next to you. She had perfect timing, the boys were about to start playing. 

James zoomed by on his broom, Regulus hot on his tail, warming up and having some fun teasing each other before the real game starts.

“Gyffindor has this in the bag.” Lily announced to all of your friends.

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure Slytherin has the better record this year.” you replied and shot her a devious smile.

“Remind me, who won the cup last year?” she questioned, giving you the same deviousness. You replied by playfully rolling your eyes, hitting her knee with your own.

The high pitched whistle sounded, signaling the start of the game. It was an intense, brutal rush of back and forth. Both teams playing hard, fighting for the win and the glory that comes along with it. The game turned dirty and aggressive almost immediately.

The match was tied, coming down to the final moments when you watched both your boyfriends diving and spinning toward the ground before pulling up at the last minute. They were no doubt chasing after the tiny golden snitch. 

You leaped to your feet, tracking them both the whole way. James was reaching out his hand, the snitch almost within grasp when Regulus suddenly slammed into his side, knocking James away, putting himself closer to the snitch instead. James didn’t take this lightly, he zoomed back to Regulus’s side and the two shoved and shoved. You would have been more concerned, but this is exactly how each match ended, the two of them fighting for the golden ball. 

The boys rerouted their course, heading straight over the section both you and Lily were sitting in. This must have been some sort of plan devised by Regulus, because this change made James’s gaze slip, fall to both Lily wearing Slytherin green and you in Gryffendor red with big yellow block letters spelling out ‘POTTER’.

This slight break in attention, the hesitation, allowed Regulus to capture the snitch while his opponent was distracted.

You cheered and hugged Dorcas, feeling prideful for your house’s big victory, Regulus taking a lap around the pitch. Lily cheered as well, not as much as you of course, not wanting to admit defeat, but still proud of her boy. You took her by the hand and pulled her along down to the field to meet your boys.

James met you first, flying down a bit disappointed, but obviously happy for Regulus. He spotted you and immediately hugged you. This sweet gesture was a guise, pulling you close to his body only to whisper “This is your fault you know,” into your ear.

You giggled. “Believe it or not, that is not the first time I have heard that sentence today.” you said, pulling away and looking up at him. He had that smirk, that look spread across his face, one that often came after he lost. Perhaps you wouldn’t get much sleep tonight either.

[vivwritesfics]

18+ only besties

No bestie definitely don't think about private jet sex with lando

Don't think about how he had been thinking about it all race weekend, the thought of fucking you while flying home to Monaco, only to have his dreams shattered by the fact that he was sharing the jet.

With Oscar, of all people. Seeing something like that would have broken the poor man's brain (of course forgetting Oscar himself is a grown ass man who definitely gets it on the reg)

But then Oscar gets another Oscar, one that let's lily come with him (I don't know why she couldn't come with you and lando, but she couldn't. Maybe timings idk, but Oscar does what he can to fly with her).

So now it's just the two of you on this private jet. The second you take off, landos hands start to wander. You bat him away, trying to read your book.

But man's is persistent. He kisses you, pulls you into his lap and kisses down your neck. "C'mon, baby," he whispers in this pathetic little voice that has you melting. He throws in a pout and how are you supposed to say no?

"Fine," you say, grabbing a blanket to throw around the both of you. It must have looked suspicious, blanket around you and air conditioning on above you. "Make it quick."

He doesn't mean to make it quick. The moment he's inside of you, he's a desperate man. Eyes screwed shut as he snaps his hips up, unable to hide the breathy whines and moans. You love the noises he makes, keep his faced against your neck so they're for your ears only.

You don't have to do much of anything. His movements have you bouncing as you try to kiss his neck. Truthfully, you're just as pathetic for him, you're just better at hiding it. He doesn't last long as he ruts against you, and it's not long before you feel the warmth of him spilling inside of you.

You're still for a moment, breathing heavily as he does, too. Your hand touches his chest, sweaty beneath his shirt. Oh, you're definitely doing that again.

[kiyokowastaken]

A Piece Of Heaven.

James Sunderland x Female Reader.

Minors Don't Interact!!!

CW: fingering, overstimulating, p in v (no protection), hair pulling/tugging, blowjob, babying a middle aged, miserable man, dirty talk, OOC James, porn with plot, age gap (reader is in her early twenties while James is in his mid-thirties), tit sucking, creampie, dom!James, oral (male and female receiving and giving, face f*cking, James has a breeding kink.

Summary: After partnering up with James and Maria, you could see the dynamic between them. A beautiful blonde vixen flirting with a miserable and pathetic man in search of his supposedly dead wife. Feeling a bit jealous of the interaction between them, you decided to climb the roof of the hotel to watch whatever of the sky that you can but you’re interrupted by someone.

This isn’t revised so excuse any misspelling or grammar mistakes! I was also inspired by another amazing James Sunderland x Reader writer named sundrlands so check them out!!

Enjoy loves ^^!

The fucking fog.

How come in some areas it’s dense as fuck but now when you need the fog to be dense, it’s not. You saw the blonde haired woman named, Maria latching onto James’s arms as if she couldn’t hold her own. You knew that the male was far too awkward to say anything about it, so he merely just let it be. You looked around the area, it seemed not as rundown and ruined as the other places that you guys have encountered, you caught a glimpse of a flower shop and your interest was piqued to say the least.

You jogged over to the small shop as James was looking down at the map trying to figure out where the hotel was as Maria was merely talking his ear off. You were pleasantly surprised when the flowers looked to be alive, they were still blooming in such a terrible condition. Your fingertips reached out and graced the soft petals of a Lily, the beautiful flower slightly moved by your touch before it got covered by a shadow.

You turned around to see James, which caused you to take a few steps back. His cologne was faint yet lingered around him, he smelled like clean laundry with a hint of a musky yet woody scent, the kinda smell that when you hugged someone you would try and take another whiff, “Uh..I figured out the way to the hotel, we would get there in a couple of more minutes..” The blonde haired man would mumble.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as you looked back at the blossomed flower, “You speak as if I’m going to snap back at you.” James merely flushed a bit at your comment as it took him a moment to think about his next choice of words. He always seemed to do that, instead of other people who just spoke their minds without considering what others might say.

James was the opposite, it’s like he handcrafted his response for you, yet he still fell short, “I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked peaceful over here in your own world.” He hummed out as he looked down at the flowers before he reached out and tried to stroke the flower but it seemed that he lacked a certain softness to his touch.

The very Lily that you once caressed so tenderly and gently, lost a petal once James touched it. James seemed a little disheartened as the sad look on his face that he always had seemed a bit more sadder, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched it, it seems like whenever I touch things they always end u-..” You stopped James’s sad monologue as with a bit of confidence, you grabbed his hand with your own and gently moved over to a flower, a budding bushel of Heathers.

You guide his hand and with a gentle brush of both hands, the bushel waves gently before you pulled your hand away with a small smile as you turned to look at the taller male, “Don’t always be pessimistic James, you have a gentleness to you. You just need to be patient, now come on, Maria is waiting for you.” You said with a slight bitter tone that James seemed to catch before his soft yet gruff voice said, “You mean, us, she’s waiting for us.” To which, you merely nodded before walking back with James.

A few minutes turned to a hour and the sweet moment between you and James had seemed to dissipate into thin air. Maria was once again walking side by side with James, their hands occasionally brushed against each other more than they should. At one point, Maria mentioned how cold she was which caused James to pause before he tugged off his military jacket and held it out for her which she graciously took and slipped on. You, in the meanwhile just scoffed, how unbelievable. James was merely being a gentleman and gave the women his jacket, so she wouldn’t freeze to death and here you were acting like it was the worst betrayal of your life. I mean, it stung a bit, you asked James to borrow his jacket during a moment of rest since the room you guys were in was cold to which he merely just got up and went through the hassle of finding a semi-clean blanket and handing it to you.

You merely just looked around at whatever you could in the surrounding scenery as the fog began to slowly disappear. You looked back to see the hotel, it was small but it was near an embankment of water which gave it a nice appeal. You guys got closer and before you guys knew it, you guys separated off into your own rooms. James got the room in the middle while you and Maria got the right and left rooms next to his.

Once, James got his jacket back from Maria, you all settled into your own rooms for the night. It was a delightful surprise when the water still ran through the pipes of this hotel, it was clean water as well. You stripped out of your clothes and turned the warm water on as once your body stepped into the warmth, it melted away any stress that you had away. You guys had battled all sorts of weird ass monsters coming to this hotel, so this was refreshing to say the least. You cleaned off the grim, sweat, and the blood off your body before getting out and changing back into your clothes.

They were a bit dirty but nothing too bad, you then debated into taking a nap or just roaming around the hotel. You guys could probably stock up on whatever you needed to finish this fucked up adventure so without a second thought, you grasped the handle of the door opened it before stepping outside into the fresh night breeze. Silent Hill looked less scary when it was night, the fog almost seemed lifted and the surroundings were now noticeable.

You turned towards James’s door to see him talking with Maria as they both leaned against the iron railing. You squinted a bit and you found yourself a bit shocked to see a small smile on his face, you had more than enough seeing the two of them together so you turned on your heel and walked to the opposite side. You looked through the few rooms that were accessible and grabbed some bandages and couple of food supplies before you found a latter up to the roof of the hotel.

You shrugged before you grabbed ahold of the latter and started to climb your way up to the room. Once on top of the roof, you let out a deep sigh as the air felt fresher up here. The cold wind stung your warm skin and blew through your slightly damp hair before you found yourself sitting on top of the roof. It was comfortable, the concrete of the roof was smooth enough to not be uncomfortable as you laid back and looked up at the sky and for once in Silent Hill, you felt at peace.

You closed your eyes for a moment as the wind blew small strands of your hair away from your face, you slowly reopened your eyes and the moon was bathing everything in its moonlight, including yourself. You looked serene, downright ethereal to James as he finally found you, he was getting worried once he searched your room and every other room that you already ransacked and didn’t find you.

He took a deep breath air before releasing it as he could now be calm. A few minutes ago, he was talking to Maria, the woman was good company. She was cocky, confident, and a downright temptress but he had enough of those types of women in his younger years. The attention was nice but you caught his eye, he really shouldn’t even be considering anyone when he’s looking for his wife, yet you graced him with patience, a loving and gentle touch, and the way your eyes always seem to shine a bit more brighter whenever he talked to you made him feel..good. Mary, they had their arguments and yet, they loved each other but somewhere along the way the glimmer in her eyes and the way she looked at James, it no longer felt like home. Yet, here he was searching for her after three years of her supposed death.

James saw you staring up at the sky and found himself also in awe at how beautiful the stars shined. He then cleared his throat as he saw you perk up as if he had frightened you, “Sorry..I didn’t mean to scare you, I just got worried when I didn’t find you in your room.” He said softly, as he walked a bit more closer before he found himself sitting down a bit away from you as he didn’t want to invade your space. “Are you okay..? I mean, obviously we aren’t since we are stuck in this hellhole but you seem to become a bit more reserved.” James said as his eyes glanced at you before looking elsewhere.

A silence followed afterwards and it seemed to eat at James, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

You let out a huff as you turned your body to fully look at James, “Are you something with Maria?” You rebutted with a question of your own. James was stunned at the question as he felt a red flush settle at the tips of his ears as he shook his head, “Me and Maria..we are just uh..good acquaintances. That’s all..” He stumbled out as your eyes hyper focused at his small movements and gestures.

“Then..why don’t you act the same way with me? You found Maria and me at the same place, we have been traveling together for a while now and yet, it seems like..you dislike me.” You muttered out before peeling your eyes away from James. James didn’t mean to make you feel that type of way, he didn’t mean to make you feel isolated from your small little group. This place was already isolating as it is.

“I-..I’m sorry, it’s just that..well I find myself feeling some kind of way whenever I’m near you and I don’t want that to affect us, it’s difficult to explain.” You could see James in the corner of your vision, he was rubbing the back of his neck. A bubble of confidence or maybe the way the moonlight reflected on James’s eyes made him seem all the more pathetic. You patted your lap as you looked at him for a split moment, “We have all the time in the world right now, explain this feeling to me, please.”

James looked at your lap that you patted before looking up at you, he felt like if he gave in to you, he would betray Mary. He did all of this for her. He reprimanded himself for feeling a warm feeling whenever you guys even locked eyes for a split moment. Yet, a part of him craved comfort, he wished to be adored again. He wished soft hands cradled his worn and tired face and pressed soft kisses against it. Mary once did that before the damned illness took her.

He moved closer to you and placed his head on your plush thighs and closed his eyes.

Warmth.

That’s what you gave off, the scent of a sweet yet citrus scent clung onto you and your clothes. He tensed up when he felt your hands on him. One on his chest and the other one scratched his scalp and he battled to hold back a soft groan. Sinful. This was utterly sinful. He was still married to Mary, he loved his wife, yet why did he turn around and push his face onto your stomach as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled him close.

“J-..James..!” You stuttered out as the touch to you was foreign. You had have past lovers and loved every single one but none of them made you feel the way James did. The older man, he made a part of you want to baby him..protect him and care for him. He could provide for himself yet to your mind that didn’t matter.

“You make me feel warm, you make me forget about Mary. It feels so wrong. I’m here for her..and yet, your arms have felt more like home than hers ever did..and I feel guilty for such thought.”

Those words that James muttered out against your stomach made your face burn unlike any other. You didn’t know how to respond as you felt him take a deep inhale and then exhale, he felt more relaxed..guess that was eating at him for a while now. Your hand merely slid from his chest towards his back and rubbed his back as she sighed.

“You don’t have to feel guilty James..I also feel the same, I just didn’t know that you felt like I did. You always seemed reserved towards me, so I just thought I made you uncomfortable for something like that.” You felt James shift before you removed your hands from him as he sat up. He was fairly close now. You could smell him just like you did in the flower shop.

“..As I stated before, I’m not uncomfortable with you. I will feel terrible if you got mixed up with someone like me, (Y/N). You’re kind, sweet, warm, patient, and just everything that I’m not. I still have this whole Mary thing to resolve. We still need to get out of here and..I’m a bit older than you. You’re barely enjoying yourself, I’m already past my prime.” James said with a soft chuckle leaving his lips. God, that chuckle..it felt like a drug. You wanted more of that.

“You should stop putting yourself down, you’re terrible at even finding a good thing about yourself, James. You have this softness in you, I can see it. It’s just hidden by troubles, nothing that a little patience and talking can’t undo and about the whole age thing. Do you really think I care? We have gone against unexplained beings and you think an age gap is what’s gonna scare me off?” You rebutted with an eye roll as James raised an eyebrow.

“Do you like your men older?”

The silence that followed was all consuming, you cleared your throat as you puffed up your chest a bit as you nodded, “Well, yes but not senile old.” This seemed to make James laugh as he turned his face away from you as his body shook with his laughter.

“So, do I fit into your criteria?” James asked as his normally reserved and cold demeanor changed slightly. It had a hint of flirtatiousness and genuine curiosity. “I mean, yeah, you do.” You said as you couldn’t help but notice him moving closer.

A sudden change in the air happened, it was noticeable. He hummed as he looked at your eyes and then down to your lips, he wanted to kiss them so badly. It was almost downright painful how much he craved to brush his lips against yours. You could feel his eyes, you almost felt naked in his stare. It felt like he was undressing you.

“Jam-..”

“Can I kiss you?”

Did you fall asleep on the roof of the hotel and now your mind was conjuring up some wet dream about the male you have been lusting over? No, this felt real. He felt real. The warmth he radiated was real. You could only nod before he leaned in close and looked into your eyes with his beautiful, enchanting blue-grey eyes, “I need you to say yes or no.”

You felt your heart beating quickly, he was close, his slow exhale of breath. You could feel it against your lips before you opened your mouth, “Yes..please.”James let out a soft and quick breathy laugh before he placed one of his hands on your neck and pulled you into the kiss. His other hand was placed on your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You couldn’t hide the slip of a soft whine tumble out of your lips.

Heavenly. That’s what James felt right now. If Silent Hill was his own personal hell then you must be his personal heaven. The hand that held your neck slowly slipped upwards towards your jaw as he held it. His tongue flicked against your bottom lip as to ask for entrance.

James acted different. This wasn’t the same man that seemed to dislike small talk or any time of human connection if it didn’t regard Mary. You might’ve unleashed a animal, a hidden side of him that you only caught glimpses at whenever he swung that metal pipe and aimed at those twisted creatures before pulling the trigger without hesitation. You opened your mouth, a tad bit but that was enough for James to slip his wet tongue into your mouth. Your arms that were once by your side slipped upwards to grasp at his faded, forest green military jacket as a anchor. Your own tongue shyly met his in a heated and sultry dance. The kiss that was supposed to be somewhat sweet became needy and sloppy.

He tilted his head to the side as his hand that was on your waist slipped down and underneath your shirt as his calloused and rough hands grasped your body as if to reassure himself that you weren’t going to slip away. That you weren’t a figment of his imagination. You were real.

The two pulled away from the kiss as a line of saliva was the only evidence of the hot and heavy kiss. James’s hand that was on your jaw slid upwards and wiped your bottom lip as the string of saliva was no longer there. The air was charged with sexual tension, it was no longer awkwardness and stepping on eggshells. It was filled with lust, need, and want.

“I need you..I want you but we don’t have to continue if you don’t want too.” James said between small soft pants as he tried to regain his steady breathing. Your eyes were hazy, in your mind, you only wanted him. You craved him. You have held back for a while and now the man that you craved, he craved you back.

“I need you as well, James Sunderland.”

Those words sealed your fate. Now, here you were, your shirt and light jacket thrown on the floor of James’s hotel room. Soft moans and pants filled the room as James left dark purplish red marks on your neck and collarbone. How you were going to explain these marks to Maria tomorrow, well, that was a problem for tomorrow. James was set on marking your skin up, claim it as his. To claim you and mark you as his woman.

His tongue licked and traced from your collarbone down the valley of your breasts. He placed a couple of sloppy kisses there as his mouth traveled to your right breast as he attached his lips around your harden bud. His tongue swirled around it as he started to suckle on your breast. His hand ran up your body and groped your left breast, his thumb and middle finger pinched and tugged on your nipple as one of your hands grasped the bedsheets and the other hand tried to muffle your moans and gasps.

Your body was soft, warm, and inviting to James. He felt like he was tainting you with all of his sinfulness, he didn’t want to damn you but at the same time. He grasped onto you as if you were his salvation and maybe, you were. His angel, his pretty girl..he wanted to leave you a beautiful mess. His teeth softly teased your nipple that was on his mouth before he pulled away with a lewd ‘pop’. Your expression was his favorite thing, yet he disliked you hiding your face.

“Don’t hide your face sweetheart, I want to see you for who you are, please.” He said as he locked eyes with yours as his mouth wrapped around your left nipple as his right hand slid up your body to tug and pinch your spit ridden nipple. He gave the same treatment to your left nipple until he felt satisfied with himself. After that, he left a couple more love marks on your chest just to make sure as pulled away from your shivering body.

“May I?” He said as he eyed your pants as you nodded as your hands slid down to unbutton and unzip your pants so that he didn’t need to struggle as much. His hands then grabbed the hem on your pants and panties before he tugged them down in one fluid motions. The need to cover your intimate area was strong as your hand slipped between your thighs to cover your slicked cunt. James found that cute, he dropped your pants and panties on the ground before his attention returned to you.

He grasped your waist and pulled you to the edge of the bed as he made you sit up as he got on his knees. He wanted to taste you, badly. He looked up at you for a sign of hesitation before you nodded once again in consent as his hands prided your thighs open. He felt himself salivate when he saw your cunt dripping for him, “All for me, pretty girl~?” He cooed as he looked up once more to see your flustered face. He chuckled as he began with pressing soft kisses on your inner thighs as he teased you with small nips to your thighs. He suckled a few marks on your inner thighs before he was face to face with your cunt.

He closed his eyes as his tongue slipped out and a wet stripe licked your slit. You instant let out a whine as your thighs tensed up, he kept your thighs apart using his hands which were wrapped around them. He prodded his wet muscle into your cunt as his nuzzled his face into your wet heat. His nose occasionally bumped against your clit as his tongue lapped at your juices as he eagerly tasted you like if you were an expensive wine. His tongue prodded your clenching entrance before he nuzzled his face more into your cunt as his tongue slipped into your clenching and unclenching entrance.

His slurping became downright pornographic as your hands left the crumpled up bedsheets and slipped into his dirty blonde locks. Your head fell back as your lips were in a ‘o’ shape as moans and whines of pleasure left them. You began to grind your cunt against his mouth as the way he slurped you like he was a hungered man was all too addictive. The way his nose bumped against your clit would send shivers down your spine as goosebumps riddled your body, “J-..James~!” You moaned his name loudly.

This made James prideful, he pulled away from your slicked cunt as leaned his head against your thighs as you guys once again locked eyes as he panted heavily. He looked downright fucking sinful, his hair a tousled mess in your hands, his face flushed red, his eyes glazed over with pure lust and admiration, and his lips along with his chin were smeared with a combination of his spit and your juices. “Use me to get off, c’mon baby girl, I’m only here for you.” He panted out.

Those words made your eyes roll to the back of your head as his lips wrapped around your clit. Fucking hell. He was so fucking good, you felt the coil in your stomach come to life. One of his hands left your thighs as they slipped down to your cunt, his index and pointer finger slipped into your cunt without much resistance. He angled them upwards and curled them in a ‘come here’ motion, you soon began to grind your cunt on his face like if he was merely a tool for your pleasure.

The coil began to slowly unravel as he continued to suckle on your clit as his fingers quickened in pace as he felt you clenching non-stop on his fingers. You pushed his face against your cunt with your hands as his unused hand gripped your thighs in a bruising hold before he pulled away as he heard a disappointed and pitiful whine leave your pretty lips. He panted heavily as his chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to regain all the air he needed. He fell back on his ass as his other hand that was on your thigh wiped his face clean from your wetness. “Not yet, pretty girl, you aren’t going to cum that easily.”

He said as before he stood up, he then began to strip. Once he was naked, he had scratch marks and cuts on his body. They had long scarred which meant he probably got them long ago, your eyes mapped out his entire body before your eyes found his cock. He was trimmed, neat which surprised you. He was a good six and a half inches, he was more length than girth. He had a pretty pink tip, that was currently leaking pre-cum as it seemed that eating you out worked him up.

You looked up at him as he walked towards you, you licked your lips as he loomed over you. He grabbed your chin as his thumb ran across your lip, “Will you be a good little girl and suck me off, ‘hm?” He asked as you merely dumbly nodded, “Then, what’re you waiting for?” He let go on your chin before as he grabbed your hair into a ponytail as your mouth opened to let him slide into your mouth.

Your mouth wrapped around his tip as your tongue licked his slit that was leaking pre-cum. You swirled your tongue around his head before you slowly took more into your mouth, you had a bit of a gagging reflex so little by little did you take his cock into your mouth. You felt the tip of his cock press against the back your throat which caused you to gag, your hands held onto his muscular thighs as your nails dug onto them. He was fully in your mouth, he could see that you were tense so, he gave you a bit of advice, “Relax..breathe through your nose. You will cause yourself to gag more if you try to breathe through your mouth.” He said as he felt you take his advice.

He then started to bob your head up and down his cock as he felt drool mixed with pre-cum coat his cock. He also heard a bit of it fall onto the floor beneath the both of you, he let soft groans out as his head lolled back in pleasure as the hold that he had on your hair tighten, “That’s it darling, you’re taking my cock so well…” He mumbled out as he slowly began to buck his hips into your mouth. As when he looked down at you, he saw your pretty mouth around his cock as those tear filled eyes looked at him.

“Fuck..if you look at me like that, I might just cum early, doll face.” He muttered through gritted teeth as he felt you hollow your cheeks to create more suction. He felt you become more comfortable as he placed his other hand on your head as he began to lightly thrust into your mouth. The lewd noises and the occasional gagging sound around his cock made him shiver. He felt the knot in his stomach slowly appear.

He quickened his pace a bit more as he almost lost himself when he felt you swallow around his cock. The way your throat tighten around his cock, it was fucking heaven sent. You were a fucking miracle. He began to just fully thrust into your mouth as you slacked your jaw, letting him fully fuck your mouth as groans and..a whimper left his mouth. Oh, this was heavenly, he made such a pretty noise that made you bob your head with his thrusting as you felt his cock throbbing into your mouth more frequently.

It was you that pulled away from his grasp as you coughed, your lips were swollen from the kissing and the sucking you were just doing. He let out a frustrated groan leave his lips as he felt his cock throbbing as his orgasm was so close. You inhaled and exhaled deeply as your chest heaved, “If I couldn’t get my..orgasm, then you can’t either..” You panted out as James merely glared at you before he nodded, it was only fair. He edged you close to your orgasm and you did the same.

He pushed you down on the bed as he towered over you as you guys scooted upwards onto the bed a bit more. James placed a pillow underneath you and moved you close to him, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he looked at you, “Uh..I don’t have a condom, are you sure?” James asked as his hands were on your hips as his thumbs wrapped smoothing circles on your skin. You bit your lip as you thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, it’s okay..I want to feel all of you.” You mumbled.

James nodded as he positioned himself before he slowly slipped inside you. You winced a bit at the penetration as it had a been awhile since you slept with someone. James gritted his teeth as he swore that he wasn’t about to cum right then and there. You were fucking tight, he huffed as the grip on your waist tighten as he slowly sank more of his length into your cunt. You, in the other hand, you felt filled. He thrusted fully into you as your toes curled as he let you get used to him and his size.

A few seconds passed before you rolled your hips and a soft moan left your lips, you looked at him and gave him a reassuring nod as he bottomed out before thrusting back into you. Your hands wrapped around his neck as your nails dug into his board shoulder, “F-..fuck, James..feels so fucking good~!” You whined out as James settled for a slow yet deep pace.

Skin on skin slapping could be heard throughput the room, the scent of sex lingered and consumed the air in the room as the bed squeezed with every deep thrust that James gave you. Your moans mingled with his groans as his hands ran up your body and groped your breasts as bounced every time that he thrusted into your squelching cunt. Lips messily found each other as both of you locked lips in a sloppy and lustful kiss. Passion and..love was found between the two of you. You guys fucked each other like if you were in your own honeymoon.

You guys complete forgot about the outside world and the cruel reality. You guys were completely focused on each other, saliva slicked lips found bare and naked skin to mark as James pace became more quick. Your nails ran down his back creating red irritated marks as he groaned, one of his hands slipped away from your breasts and down to your clit. He rubbed quick and tight circles as he felt you clench around him like a vice, trying to milk him for everything that he had, “f-..fucking hell, c’mon doll face, take my cock. After we are..out of here, I will make you my pretty wife and fuck a baby into you, yeah~?” James said rolled his hips into your cunt.

You nodded as you were feeling so fucking good, he was fucking you so good. “y..yeah, I wanna be your pretty wife..fuck a baby into me right now, please baby~!” You whined against his ear as he nodded. Both of you too drunk out of each other’s presences as the coil in your stomach grew too tight as he quicken the pace into a more quick and deep pace as his kissed your g-spot so fucking precisely and him rubbing your bundle of nerves didn’t help as you came around his cock without warning. You clenched around him tightly as he felt your walls spasm around his cock.

“Good girl..coming on cock so prettily, gonna make you a mommy, mhm, you want that baby girl, ‘hm~?” James said as he wrapped his unused arm around your waist and pulled you close to cold sweat covered body. You nodded dumbly as you felt overstimulated, the way he kept fucking you like a mere ragdoll, chasing his own orgasm made you clench around him. You bit down on his shoulder he as he continued to thrust into you as he felt his cock twitching more frequently, “Close..I’m gonna breed you, my sweet girl. Make you mine fully, come on, cum with me. Let’s cum together….” He muttered as his breathing was ragged.

His chest heaved quickly as his thumb started to swipe against your clit as his thrusts became animalistic in pace as he pounded into you. He groaned loudly into your shoulder as came deep into you. Filling your womb to the brim with his seed as you cried out as you came hard. He stopped swiping on your clit as both his arms held you close to him. He could feel himself twitching inside you. Fuck..you both were tired. He slowly pulled out of you with a wince as you merely groaned, you felt his sticky, warm seed drip out of your abused cunt.

James pulled you down onto the bed with him as he would clean this mess up later but right now, he wanted to relish in the afterglow. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as his hands rubbed your back as you nuzzled into his chest, “I will do everything I can to get us out of Silent Hill..I promise.” He muttered against your hair as you merely nodded as you were fair too tired to form any sentences. He soon felt your body go limp as you feel into a deep slumber.

This wasn’t about Mary anymore, he had to move on from her..he loved Mary but you loved him even if he was a broken man. You chose to embrace him and give yourself to him regardless of the darkness within himself.

You were his saint, his angel, his goddess..his little piece of heaven.