#he was so excited to read to her. but he's gone and nothing can change that.

[kittlyns]

I've been getting lost in my own head so much lately

[avatar-anna]

When You Fall In Love...

so i've been reading icebreaker and it's been putting me in the hockeyrry mood

part one, part two, bonus, bonus

Harry watched from the empty stands as Y/n ran through her routine for the fifth time. Her teammates had gone home, her coach asked Harry if he would lock up on the way out, and now it was just the two of them in the empty rink. There wasn't even any music playing anymore, Y/n was just skating and performing her tricks as if there was.

Every time she did it, it was flawless. Her routine was fast and intense and incredibly difficult, but Y/n performed with ease every time. She landed her tricks like they were nothing, tricks which Harry now knew the names of and could tell the difference between a lutz and an axel. She was incredible, and he was in awe of her every single time.

But even in her perfection, Y/n had yet to smile once.

Harry decided she'd had enough after she finished her fifth run-through, quickly jogging down to the edge of the rink before she could skate out to the middle again. He leaned over the barricade and kissed the top of her head. This close to her, he could see her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, a sign that her routine did wear her out, despite making it look so effortless.

"You were phenomenal as usual, baby," Harry said while he gathered her things.

"I bobbled a landing and my timing was off for a whole four counts," was her reply.

Harry frowned, not pleased by her recent negativity. Any athlete could be critical of their ability, but Y/n seemed uncharacteristically hard on herself lately, and he had no idea why. "Everything okay?" He asked, shouldering her duffle bag as they walked away from the rink.

"I'm fine."

She certainly didn't sound fine, but Harry decided not to push. Not now, anyway. Changing the subject, he said, "I got an email from the recruiter. I should be receiving my contract soon."

Excitement didn't even begin to cover how Harry had been feeling lately. Last week, he'd met with an agent of a minor league hockey team, one that was a feeder to an NHL team. He expressed their interest in Harry moving to the east coast after graduation and join them for spring training. And after giving it some thought, Harry accepted.

He was over the moon, thrilled that years of hard work was finally paying off. He'd made his passion into a career, and had the potential to really make a name for himself. Life couldn't have been better.

But where Harry seemed to be flying high, Y/n seemed stuck. She was happy for him when he told her the news, had gone out to celebrate with him that night. But something felt off between them. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but he just knew.

"That's great," Y/n said with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice. Harry tried not to take it to heart, she was clearly in a mood from her practice. She was under a lot of pressure too, he reminded himself, and sometimes had a knack for not knowing how to express herself with words.

"Is there something on your mind? You've been quiet recently," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping her delicate boundary.

Y/n shook her head as she approached her car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Harry couldn't help but feel more and more like there was something on her mind, but he let it go again.

Before pulling the car out of the parking lot, Y/n rested her hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"It's okay. As long as you know you can talk to me about it."

Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, then turned her focus toward the road. Harry filled the silence with rambling. He talked mostly about the NHL, about his contract and where he wanted to live and how everything was happening so fast.

So caught up in trying to break the tension, he didn't notice Y/n's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

*.*

"Styles! What the hell are you doing? Focus up! Let's go!"

Harry rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily during the brief pause in the game. His eyes flicked up to the stands, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but he didn't see the one he needed the most.

Despite being recruited by a minor league hockey team, Harry was probably having the worst game of his life.

Not one pass connected, he was letting second-rate players get by him, and he'd spent more time in the penalty box than in the actual game. Nothing about this was right, and still all he could do was look for Y/n.

She wasn't there, and even though things had been weird between them recently, he was still surprised. When she wasn't at a competition of her own, Y/n came to every one of Harry's games. It had started out as Harry wanting to impress her, maybe show off a little, and then as time went on and they grew closer and their relationship became more than two people having sex in secret, he wanted her to be there just because it felt good knowing she was watching him play. All his nerves floated away when Y/n was sat in the stands, sometimes in his jersey, cheering him on.

And of course there were times when she couldn't come, but this wasn't one of those times. Y/n had purposely not shown up. He knew they'd fought before the game, but he didn't think she would abandon him just to be petty. They were past that now.

His sole focus should've been on the game he was playing, but instead his mind kept drifting to the fight.

Harry could feel Y/n pulling away from him. He finally felt like he was getting everything he wanted—a spot on a minor league hockey team on the east coast that would eventually lead him to the NHL, graduating with semi-decent grades thanks to Y/n, and of course being with his dream girl. At first, she'd seen him as some douchey athlete that was only good for one thing. He remembered seeing her for the first time their freshman year, performing tricks on the ice that he'd only ever seen on TV, and when he whistled and clapped loudly—perhaps a little obnoxiously—after she'd finished, she'd rolled her eyes at him and told him to fuck off.

It was love at first sight.

Harry had been so careful around Y/n. He played by her rules and followed her lead, trying not to let the comments about them not dating get to him too much. He liked their initial dynamic, finding it funny when he got under her skin because she made it so easy. It became a kind of game, this push and pull that was fun and exciting and eventually led to their arrangement.

He knew that she cared about him on some level, he just needed to bide his time and show her he wasn't who she thought he was. Not entirely, anyway. And when she finally did, and they became more than just people who screwed around, everything was perfect.

They'd been through so much together. Y/n pushed Harry to be better, and he worked with her to master new tricks and nail her routine. There wasn't anyone else who understood his level of commitment to hockey, but she did, and that just made him love her more.

So when he got the call offering him a spot on the minor league team, Y/n was the first person Harry told. She'd been happy for him, and he was over the moon, his mind already making a million plans—where they'd live, her coming to his games, him helping her find a new rink to train at. It felt like the doors to a new and exciting world had opened for them, but she then she started pulling back, and Harry practically watched as that door slammed shut.

Harry pushed himself to focus back on the game, on the hockey stick in his hand and the ice beneath his skates. He felt like it took more effort than it should've to get his head back in the game, but his team managed to pull out a win, and he managed not to get benched before it happened. That didn't stop his coach from ripping him a new one in the locker room, but Harry sat there and took it, shaking his head and promising his piss poor performance would never happen again.

Exhausted both physically and mentally, he trudged out of the locker room and toward the parking lot, debating whether to take the bus home or call an Uber. Even in his senior year, he still didn't have a car, but Y/n was usually there to give him a ride home. To their home. Moving in together for their last year of school seemed like a no-brainer, and it had been amazing so far, though the last week had been kind of a disaster. Harry could feel the tension between them growing, but every time he asked Y/n about it, she'd say she was fine even though they both knew everything was not fine, and the cycle continued. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to celebrate the success he'd managed to create for himself, but he felt rather deflated instead.

To Harry's surprise, Y/n was waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn't hesitate putting his gear in the trunk and coming around to sit in the passenger seat. Y/n leaned in to kiss him immediately holding onto the sides of his face fervently.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm sorry for not being here tonight and I'm sorry for acting strange, and I'm sorry for—"

"Y/n, what's going on with you?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" She asked. I want to be able to talk to you properly, and I can't if I'm driving.

When Harry nodded, Y/n must've deemed it enough. She peeled away from the rink, silent tension filling the air between once again. It had been following them around all week.

That ended tonight, though. He didn't care how much Y/n hated confrontation or hard conversations. They couldn't move forward if they didn't move past this roadblock first. Harry loved Y/n more than he ever thought possible, and stubborn as she was, he knew she loved him just as much. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how hard she tried to fight him on the way down.

*.*

"Y/n, you know I would be ecstatic if you'd told me you qualified for the Olympics. This is a huge step in my career! Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am! God, Harry, I am."

"Then why are you pulling away from me? I feel like I can't be excited about this around you when you're the one person who should understand how this feels."

"I can't do this. I can't have this argument with you," you said, trying to step away from him.

Harry was quick to grab your hands in his, keeping you from walking away. "What aren't you telling me? Do you want to break up?"

"No!

"Do you not love me anymore? What? What is it, Y/n?"

"God, I didn't—I didn't ask for this," you cried, feeling like a damn had burst inside you. It was out now, and now you had to see it through to the end. "I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I wasn't prepared to love you this much. You're the one who wanted to take things further, and now you're—"

You're leaving me, you couldn't bring yourself to say. You really were happy for him. All of his dreams were coming true, and he had an ambition that matched yours, which made you love him more. And now that ambition was taking him far away from you, and you weren't handling it as well as you thought you would.

"Y/n—"

"I'm happy for you, H, I'm so happy for you that I could burst. And maybe even a little jealous," you joked, though there was some truth to what you said. "But I guess I just...I guess I didn't expect to love you this much. And I don't—I don't know what to do because you're going soon and I'm..."

You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.

At the start of all this, you never imagined falling in love with Harry. He drove you absolutely insane, and despite your physical attraction to him, you kept your distance. But he kept doing these things that made you like him, and eventually care about him, and finally made you fall in love with him. It just wasn't something you saw coming. Love was definitely not on the brain when you met Harry.

Because you knew this moment was inevitable. The moment when one of you would be given an opportunity you couldn't refuse and would pull you away from each other. Once upon a time, you thought you would be given your dream job of a lifetime—competitive skating and hopefully the Olympics—but somewhere down the line, skating stopped bringing you joy, only pressure and anxiety. And now Harry had his dream job on the other side of the country, and you were left to flounder and wonder how you would survive waking up without him next to you.

"You're making it seem like it's a bad thing that you're in love with me," Harry said quietly, but the low tone of his voice didn't hide anything. You knew he was getting upset. After all the avoidance the last week—on your part—yours and his emotions were coming to a head.

"It's not! It's just that you're leaving!" you said, resisting the urge to run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And all week you've talked about how excited to get out of here and leave this all behind and start a new chapter in your life. I mean, would it kill you to act like you're a little torn up about leaving?"

It was so selfish, and you knew it was. It was why you'd been avoiding Harry, this conversation. Harry had every right to be proud and ecstatic for leaving to play in the professional league. He worked so hard, pushed himself farther than anyone you'd ever met, except for maybe you. Your pain was clouding your good sense, and now you'd shown just how horrible you could really be.

You couldn't look him in the eye after saying what you did. Even if it was how you felt, you still felt ashamed for raining on Harry's parade. "Y/n—" he tried to say when you hastily wiped a tear from your eye.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," you said, getting up from the couch and scurrying off to your bedroom.

Flopping on the bed, you pulled the covers over you, trying to hide from everything happening around you. It was too much. Your senior year was supposed to be fun and full of unforgettable memories, not arguments and heartache.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Harry slipped inside. He slid into bed next to you, and you didn't fight it when he rested his face in the crook of your neck. Because despite everything you were feeling, this was all you really needed.

"I'm not leaving you behind," he murmured gently. "You mean too much to me."

You sniffled, and Harry pulled you closer to his chest. "You're going to be thousands of miles away."

"Says who?" he said, kissing your cheek. "Who says you aren't coming with me?"

"And do what?" you huffed, even though the thought slightly lifted your spirits. "Be one of your...puck whatevers and follow you around like a puppy? I need a life of my own too."

You were being stubborn and argumentative and you both knew it. There was some relief in knowing Harry wanted you with him, but you also didn't want to just move because Harry was. You needed purpose, you needed to feel like your life had some sort of direction in it. But it was unfair to put all of that on Harry, and you didn't know how to express how you felt without sounding insane, so instead you said nothing, and that obviously went over brilliantly.

Harry chuckled. "See, because you just said how in love you are with me, I can tell that you're frosty attitude is just an act. Now turn over and look at me."

You reluctantly turned over, brow furrowed exaggeratedly because you couldn't cross your arms over your chest. It used to infuriate you how easily Harry could get under your skin because he knew you so well, that he knew just what to do or say to pull you out of a bad mood. In this moment, you were thankful. He could see past all the harsh words and see to the root of the problem. You'd said some things that were perhaps out of order, but Harry understood. Despite everything, he understood.

"You've worked just as hard as me, Y/n. I want to be there for you the way you've been for me. You can achieve your goals too."

"I just...I don't know if I want to achieve them anymore," you said quietly.

It was the first time you'd said it out loud. Since you'd learned to skate, there had only been one goal: the Olympics. Getting there wasn't just a matter of training, it was about devoting your life to your craft, it was barely having a life outside of training and competitions and giving all your time to winning. And after spending nearly your entire life doing it, you felt yourself slowly burning out. You'd go through your routines flawlessly, but your heart wasn't in it. All you could think about was the future—the next competition, the next training session, the next qualifier. It took seeing Harry so happy about being drafted to the minor leagues to realize the fire had gone out in you. Thinking of Olympic qualifiers and training and affording coaches and costumes and picking the right music only filled you with dread when you should've felt joy.

"Oh."

"But I don't know who I am if I don't have skating."

"You don't have to compete to skate, you know," Harry said. He rested his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your temple lightly. "You can c—"

"Oh God, don't say coach," you groaned. "It's perfect. You'll be a hockey superstar and I'll be the washed-up figure skater who couldn't handle the pressure of being an athlete and wound up coaching instead."

"I know you're being like this because you're scared, and that's okay," he said. "But I'll help you find a new dream, Y/n. I promise."

You had to blink away tears because your heart couldn't take how much he cared about you. "Even when I've been a complete bitch?"

"You haven't been. I'm sorry if you felt like I was leaving you behind. I guess in my mind we would always be together, no matter where we ended up."

"God I hate how much I love you sometimes," you grumbled while flinging yourself on top of Harry and holding him tight. "It's too much, you're too much, and I can't stand it—"

"There's a compliment in there somewhere, right?" Harry asked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Sitting up, you perched yourself on him, your legs straddling his waist. Dipping down, you made sure your noses were brushing, but you didn't close the distance. Not yet. Your heart was racing simply because Harry had been so kind to you, because he knew you so well and said exactly what you needed to hear. It felt ridiculous to know that there was a time when he pissed you off so much you saw red, that his teasing remarks and cocky grin grated on your nerves. Now you didn't want to imagine a life without him.

"I'm sorry for saying all of those things," you murmured. "I really am proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do."

Harry's hand reached up and threaded through your hair, his fingers gentle as they passed over your scalp. "I know you are. And I mean it, Y/n. I'll help you. I know you love to skate, we just have to find a way to channel that into something else. If not coaching, maybe performing?"

"What? Like Disney on Ice?" you asked skeptically, your nose wrinkling at the thought.

Harry shrugged as his hand dipped beneath your shirt to stroke your back. "You'd be a cute princess."

"With my luck, they'd make me a tree."

"Then you'd be the cutest tree there ever was."

Shaking your head, you nudged your nose against his again. "Can we hit pause on talking about the future? I just want to be with you here. Right now."

"Course," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin. "And then maybe we can circle back to you being my puck whatever."

"Shut up."

"Make me!"

And that was something you knew how to do better than your skating routine.

[little-diable]

"Angel" He calls me – Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

Listen, this is fucked up – even I was unsure where this came from. But I ain't sorry for it, I know y'all will love this, you filthy heathen (i love you). Shamelessly inspired by the song "The Fruits" by Paris Paloma. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Her mother accuses the reader of preparing a satanic ritual, so she hopes that Priest Riddle can free the young girl from the devil's grasp. What a shame that the young priest is even more cunning than the Devil himself.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, smut in a church, heavy dub!con, choking, wax play, blood play, Tom being Tom, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (about 2k words)

My love, are you the devil? I would worship you instead of him, I have no time for confession, for I'm too busy committing sins

“Priest Riddle!” Her mother’s shrill voice echoed through the empty church, repeated with every further step she took. (Y/n) struggled against her mother’s grasp, feet dragged along the cold ground as if she prayed that the floor would open up, that something or someone would crawl from the eternal darkness to hold onto her, rescue her from the hell she would experience any moment now. “Priest Riddle!”

The tall man appeared after another loud call of his name, concern tugged on his features, a facade her mother instantly seemed to buy into; a facade (y/n) instantly saw through. Priest Riddle was a devilish handsome man, a man so handsome he easily fooled those who clung to him, distracting them from his sinful character. 

“Mathilda, (y/n), what is going on?” His bright eyes carried concern as he looked at (y/n)’s mother, concern that changed into something dark the second his gaze found (y/n)’s. Her mother’s torture was nothing against what he’d do to her, that much she was certain of after all those confessions she had been forced through – confessions that had ended with her knees having a carpet burn, with her ass bruised, and her jaw pulsing in pain from being stretched open. 

“She’s gone insane, I’ve found her worshipping the devil! He has his dark grasp on her, oh you have to free my girl, you’re my only chance of finding help for her sinning soul, Father!” Tears dripped from her mother’s eyes, tears (y/n) silently cursed. She had done no such thing, all she had done was read a book Priest Riddle had borrowed her, one of the few interests both shared – Latin prayers her mother had mistaken for satanic rituals as (y/n) had tried to pronounce the words. 

For a second, he studied (y/n), the annoyance she couldn’t shake, the wide pupils he had grown all too used to, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers at the excitement now thumping through his veins. “Leave her with me, Mathilda. She’s in good hands. I’ll take care of our girl.”

"Angel“ he calls me, does he know that I'm falling from a precipice that I tripped off long ago?

“Rituals, huh?” Her mother had left the church seconds ago, leaving the two of them behind. (Y/n)’s skin prickled, she was fighting against the need to scream, to throw a tantrum against her mother’s foolish behaviour. All because of him. 

“This is your fault! She heard me read that prayer book of yours.” Within seconds he stood in front of her, ringed hand wrapped around her throat. Her heart was pounding, blood rushing through her veins, he could feel (y/n)’s fast pulse against his fingertips, a sensation that left the man smirking. 

“My fault?” The way he spoke the words, with a voice so raspy and deep, (y/n) didn’t manage to stop her body from reacting, her thighs from trembling and her walls from clenching around nothing. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, all they did was stare at one another. “My fault, really, (y/n)?”

“I,” her words got stuck in her throat as he squeezed, cutting off her strength to pronounce any words. Priest Riddle always enjoyed silencing her, showing her how much power he held over her. (Y/n) was shoved backwards as he let go of her, watching her fall onto the stone stairs leading up to the altar. 

“You see, (y/n), your mother may think I’m the saving grace, the voice of reason, but I think you know better, don’t you? There is no saving left for you, no grace I can give you. The Devil would have tried to save you, what a shame that I’m not him.” Angry tears welled up in her eyes, tears that began to drip as a laugh clawed through him. There was no escaping him, no matter how much her mind begged her to run, to never return to these unholy walls, her body craved his touch, desperate for everything he could offer. 

“Undress, lay down on the altar, for me.” It took (y/n) a second to snap into motion, to undo the buttons of her dress with shaky fingers. Not once did her glassy eyes leave his frame, not as she stood naked, not as she slowly heaved herself onto the altar, not as she watched him alight the red candle placed next to the Holy Bible.

“Do you remember what John teaches us, (y/n)? He tells us: Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. But tonight you will sin, tonight you will offer yourself to the devil, even though he will never have you. He fears me, and he will fear my precious toy once I’m done with you.”

“In nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.” He was standing behind the altar, with his ringed fingers holding onto the burned candle. (Y/n) was forced to watch him tilt the candle, letting the wax drip down onto the valley between her naked breasts. She hissed at the sensation, torn between excitement and fear, and yet she craved more. 

“Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritalia nequitiae, in caelestibus.” Priest Riddle’s voice didn’t carry any emotion as he spoke the lines of the prayer to Saint Michael, a prayer used in exorcisms, a prayer he used to mock her now. The candle kept dripping, one by one the drops of wax marked her body, leaving (y/n) moaning as his cold hand joined the wax, touching her hardening nipples with a smirk growing on his lips. 

“Veni in auxilium hominum, quos Deus ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno. Te custodem et patronum sancta veneratur Ecclesia; tibi tradidit Dominus animas redemptorum in superna felicitate locandas.” No longer did (y/n) try to keep her moans bottled in, she arched her back off the altar as he added more strength to his touch, tweaking her nipples as the wax dripped onto her stomach. It felt as if he was making an offering, sacrificing (y/n) for the sins they had committed together, giving her up for his eternal salvation. 

“Deprecare Deum pacis, ut conterat Satanam sub pedibus nostris, ne ultra valeat captivos tenere homines, et Ecclesiae nocere. Offer nostras preces in conspectu Altissimi, ut cito anticipent nos misericordiae Domini, et apprehendas draconem, serpentem antiquum, qui est diabolus et Satanas, et ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes. Amen.” The last drop of wax fell as Priest Riddle ended the prayer, tossing the blown-out candle aside to press his lips against (y/n)’s. Both moaned in unison as her fingers began to work on his belt, needing to free his cock with the silent hope that he’d fuck her on the altar spurring her on. 

He twitched in her grasp, a sensation so familiar, she found herself relaxing, giving her mind a few seconds to relax. Seconds he used to study her with danger laced in his gaze, danger that deepened as her eyes were drawn to his throat, watching him rip his silvery necklace from his neck. The necklace twinkled in the dim light, momentarily entrancing (y/n) as if she was studying a rare gem, an offering only God would make. 

“We have been bound together for months, you are my possession, and you will do as I say, you will let me lead you till I no longer think you’re worthy of my time.” He tightened his grasp on his necklace, and without another warning, he ran the sharp edge of the cross along his skin, instantly drawing blood. Blood so red, it looked like sacred wine, richer than Jesus’ blood, more powerful than any other offering.

He wiped his bleeding thumb along her lips, letting her taste the copper staining her skin like a tattoo made for eternity. They held eye contact as she parted her lips, letting her tongue lick his skin clean, unable to stop her moan from clawing out of her. She was nothing but a toy, someone he used to pass time with, someone to fuck whenever his body called for excitement – and she loved it, every fucked up second of their time together. 

Priest Riddle let go of her to position himself between her thighs, his fingertips dug into her skin as he wrapped her legs around his waist. Soon he’d fuck her, soon he’d remind her that she was his – his only. 

You're faithless, for you pitched me, against your holy father and it seems that I am winning

Without giving (y/n) any chance to prepare herself, he pushed into her, forcing his cock into her tightness. Her arousal allowed him to move without any struggles, moving as if their bodies had been made for one another. In some fucked up way she could have found something romantic in this, claimed in a church for all holy and unholy eyes to see, but the darkness he emanated was enough to keep her from thinking these thoughts. 

Months ago when this had happened for the first time, (y/n) had been frightened, not knowing what the man would do to her. But after the first of many orgasms had wrecked through her, she had felt like Judas, the backstabber, the liar she had been turned into. No longer held back by the fear of sinning, rather giving in – all for the promise of being punished by Priest Riddle. 

“Even the devil wouldn’t take you in, a soul filled with sins that even He would turn his back on. I’m your only rescue.” He panted his words as he buried himself deep inside of her, eyes staring down at her. Without stopping his movements, his hips from snapping against hers, he pushed the cross past her lips, forcing her to hold it between her teeth. (Y/n) could still taste his blood – heightening her senses as her walls fluttered around him. 

She hated herself for enjoying this, for being at his mercy with her legs spread and her back arched. He only spoke the truth, he was her only chance of guidance, the only one to cling to as the others had left her behind, engulfed in darkness. Her saving grace, the poison she was addicted to, the bruising grasp she couldn’t shake. 

“Cum for me, show them that there is no chance of rescuing you from me.” With the cross held between her teeth, she moaned for him. (Y/n)’s orgasm wrecked through her, leaving her shaking and panting beneath him. But the priest kept moving, searching his own high with his fingertips digging into her skin. 

A heavy moan rumbled through Priest Riddle as he came, imprinting himself on her walls without giving her a warning. Once again marked by the man who called her his own property, once again marked by the devil’s most brutal brother. 

“I need you on your knees, it’s time to beg for His forgiveness, (y/n).” 

……

Translation of the Latin prayer: 

St. Michael the Archangel, illustrious leader of the heavenly army, defend us in the battle against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of darkness and the spirit of wickedness in high places.

Come to the rescue of mankind, whom God has made in His own image and likeness, and purchased from Satan's tyranny at so great a price.

Holy Church venerates you as her patron and guardian. The Lord has entrusted to you the task of leading the souls of the redeemed to heavenly blessedness.

Entreat the Lord of peace to cast Satan down under our feet, so as to keep him from further holding man captive and doing harm to the Church.

Carry our prayers up to God's throne, that the mercy of the Lord may quickly come and lay hold of the beast, the serpent of old, Satan and his demons, casting him in chains into the abyss, so that he can no longer seduce the nations. Amen.

[whosjunglejim4322]

Saccharine - E.M

Warnings ® smut! Fluff, soft bf Eddie<3, first time sex as a couple! Nasty IN LOVE smut bc this bitch is a hopeless romantic! Eddie is super sensitive, Established relationship, you stroke his dick, Eddie almost cums in his pants, lil bit of dry humping, this is incredibly self indulgent but u didn't hear that from me, overly descriptive bc why not

You shouldn't be nervous, really. It's just Eddie, who is your boyfriend of three months and twenty-six days. Who is sitting across from you on his creaky mattress criss-cross style, your knees touching. Your Eddie, who has two big hands flailing in the air as he goes on about the recent campaign, broad mouth etched into a whimsical smile, big eyes wondrous and full of excitement for the tale.

The bed bounces with his enthusiasm, and you draw closer to him with each syllable.

Your Eddie, who is doing nothing out of the ordinary, and who is as beautiful as ever in loose fitting plaid pyjama bottoms and a tattered black tee that exposes half of his collarbone and smudges of black ink - he doesn't even have to try, and perhaps these simple mundane realizations are what cause the flutter of wings in the pit of your stomach.

"And then Mike - hey, you okay?"

If it weren't for his vast change in expression, you truly wouldn't have realized what a trance you're in. Between the furrow of his unkempt brows and the amused but curious tilt at the corner of his mouth, you come back to earth. The weight of gravity settles in your bone marrow, as his calloused thumb quickly strokes your chin as if to remind you he is still here.

"I - yeah yeah, sorry I just," you grab his hand by the heaviness of his wrist, dragging it into your lap so you can stroke the back of his rough knuckles. "got distracted s'all."

Your eyes divert to where your fingers are joined and the sound of his airy, through-the-nose chuckle has more heat blossoming behind your ribcage, nudging at your organs.

"I'll stop with the D&D talk, know you hear enough about it from the kids. There's only so much dorkiness you should be subjected to, y'know?"

It's lighthearted, he's smirking and looking down at you with enough palpable fondness the apples of your cheeks feel like they're being stroked by a flame. Still, the implication that he may be bothering you in any way has an urgency filling your eyes. You shake your head.

"No, no that never bothers me Eds, don't be silly." The nickname makes his mouth dry, still, after three months and twenty-six days. You finally meet his glance. "You're just handsome, really handsome especially when you're talking about something you're passionate about and I just...yeah."

It's word vomit, messy and you feel like it makes no sense but then he squeezes your hand and you know that he reads between the nervous mumbo jumbo - you have no clue how you make him feel, do you?

"You're fucking cute." He breathes out earnestly, smoothing his grip upwards to your forearms and pulling you forward with minimal effort - right onto the stirdiness of his lap.

Your giddiness is the perfect portrait, your arms finding a resting place atop his broad shoulders. Curls tickle the tops of your arms and your wrists, and your thighs brace your frame by the slim of his taut waist. He can't help it, the giggles escaping his throat. The proximity is intoxicating for no reason at all.

"Can't believe this is our first time spending the night together, I'm so used to falling asleep on the phone with you that it really doesn't feel all that different." He smooths your hair out of your eyes, tucks it behind your left ear.

I get to touch her like this, he thinks to himself. His chest jostles underneath the muscle and bone.

"Yeah, except I get to fall asleep with you'n my arms, wake up with you in em' too. I'm one lucky son of a bitch, hmm?"

He's practically thinking out loud, but he's too far gone to feel shame. When you nuzzle your face against the warm nook of his neck, wet lips smiling against the flesh, his encapsulating arms squeeze you impossibly tighter. He buries his nose against the top of your head, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. Your cheek grazes the side of his jaw as you meet him face to face, nose to nose.

He sees you trying to formulate words, a sentence, even a sound but none of it seems like a totally accurate way to express the adoration threatening to consume you from the inside out. You graze his cheek with your mouth, slowly, tentatively, and he hangs on with half an air full of lungs.

You suckle his bottom lip and he sighs into your mouth, the relief making him lightheaded. He kicks into gear and pushes back with an overlap of his mouth - hands wandering over the small of your back, to your soft lovehandles and upwards until his fingrtips have passed your jugular and he's holding your face as tenderly as you're holding his.

It's now, when you feel it - the growing firmness beneath he thin material of his bottoms. He tries to keep it at bay but it's damn near impossible, and the whimper, the fucking whimper you let out when his soft tongue touches yours from the warm cavern of your mouth - he couldn't stop it from twitching even if he wanted to. He's only a man.

And you're a menace. As new as this is, your body reacts to the prod in between your legs, underneath your crotch. You press yourself tighter to his frame, hips scooching against his hard-on in the process and he stiffens.

"Mmm, baby baby..." your pout is immediate when he breaks from your mouth, brows furrowed and lips a kiss bitten fuschia. For a moment, you think you've taken it too far too fast - he's stopped you from moving completely. Your whole body burns with a tingly sensation somewhere between shame and the aftershocks of arousal.

"Are you...are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

You sound so sweet, it makes his lower belly ache among other things. He stifles a laugh brcause he knows it will only make you feel worse. Something wrong. Something wrong.

"Fuck no, I-sorry I just uh...almost..." He can't bring himself to say it, you guys haven't even been kissing for five whole minutes and here he is about to blow his load. When you realize how close his dark lashes are from kissing his cheeks, how his pupils have almost turned the whole of his irises onyx, you connect the dots.

Woah, you did that to him? That moth in your belly threatens to take flight, and without much thought, your mouth is moving before you can stop it.

"I wanna see."

Those are the only words your brain allows you to spit out. His chest has gone still, and you feel that twitch against your center again. Your thighs have begun to tremble.

"You wanna see...? My cock?" He shouldn't sound so incredulous. You're his girlfriend for christ's sake, but you are important to him. More important than he ever thought anyone could be, and so he has kept his lust at a minimum of 48% when he's around you for the most part. Save for intense makeout sessions.

"Yeah, I wanna...well I wanna know how to make you feel good."

He's worried for a moment that he's having another wet dream, but he's sure this is real life because he feels how warm you are against him and you are so close he can see his own reflection in your eyes. You toy with the shell of his ear and a chill ascends his spine.

"Sweetheart if you touch me m'not gonna last long." His skin is pink and scarlet, and he's gotten at least ten degrees hotter judging by the heat billowing off of the back of his neck. His adams apple bobs when he swallows.

"That's okay, really it is. You have nothing to be embarrassed about....I like it. Like that I make you feel that way. " You rake your fingers through the front of his hair, pushing it away from his pretty face. He checks your eyes again, needing confirmation.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He gnaws on the inside of his plush mouth, tries to calm the animal inside of him that wants to fuck your brains out right now. He almost feels guilty just thinking about it, until you lean over to peck the side of his stubbly chin, fingertips grazing his taut belly.

"Yes, really wanna."

There is a curious, nervous anticipation in the crinkle underneath your eyes.

"Kay' baby, explore all you want." The boyish smirk he gives is enough to have that knee buckling tingling sensation coming back full force as he presents himself to you like this. Does he seem as pulled together and totally not overly nervous as he thinks he does? Probably not.

His arms depart from your body, ribs expanding as he reclines on his palms. Tendons flex and stretch underneath the black bats and fuzzy layer of hair atop his forearm. You swallow, intimidated by the beauty of the boy.

You find the courage to finally move off of his lap so that you can take him all in, and the bulge of his cock swipes the underside of your thigh as you slide off.

You don't know where to touch first. That's a lie, your hands almost instinctively slip underneath the hem of his old shirt, where that dark thatch of hair trails under his belly button. He's soft, so soft it's unreal, he is velvet and delicious scarring and beauty marks. His tummy convulses underneath your hand.

He watches you with complete fixation. You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and you don't even realize it, all perched and pretty in front of him. He closes his eyes when you explore his sides, over the planes and arches and past the small stretch marks by his chest.

You can't ignore it anymore, the tent that has formed at his crotch and continues to throb with each passing touch.

The blunt of your nails rake down the soft plaid covering thick thighs, and he takes this sharp breath that has you glancing up at him with heavy eyes.

"So pretty...Eds you're so pretty." You say it ardently, your voice small and weak. An arm reaches down, strong but gentle as he strokes the back of your plush cheek with his ring covered knuckles.

"Can't fucking believe...can't believe you're mine, finally. Shit." He's almost murmuring to himself again, on the verge of cardiac arrest. Maybe he's losing his mind, maybe this is heaven.

Then your palm presses against the thick of his cock where it's bulging out, and his thighs spasm.

"Oh, oh." He's all curses and praises, giving you encouraging glances each time you look up at him to silently ask for guidance. You move your hand up and down what you assume is his shaft, and he keeps his hips from bucking into your touch. He feels thick, and the back of your mouth starts to water.

Without warning you're hooking your fingers into his waistband, and he lifts his hips in compliance so that you can pull them down to his mid thigh. He has no time for nerves anymore. Any fear he previously had about what his dick looks like, or what you'll think of it, is stripped along with his clothing. You're looking at him with too much love for him to be insecure - and that takes him by surprise the most.

At this point his checkered boxers are just in the way, and you take it upon yourself to pull those down too. A thud hits his belly.

And really, you should've known. He's big. Not because he's impossibly long, his size is above average but he's thick - the tip iridescent with precum, the same shade of plum as his lips underneath the slick sheen. He is slightly curved upwards, a prominent vein decorating the underside parallel to his frenulum. It's pretty, just like the rest of him. He's neatly trimmed, which is the most surprising part if you're honest - but nothing about Eddie could ever be displeasing to look at.

Your mouth is parted with this expression of surprise, and Eddie almost can't believe what this is doing for his ego.

"Woah." Is all you say, transfixed when you reach out to grasp the appendage. He hisses through his teeth when your small hand finally grasps it, so fucking warm and so gentle it's almost maddening. You both feel it, the invisible weight that has settled in his small, messy room.

The weight of being alone, together, all night and all of tomorrow afternoon while his uncle Wayne is away on a business trip that is probably more lucrative than what he leads on - but Wayne has never been one to boast or speak about things like that out loud. Says it'll jinx the whole thing.

The feeling hits you first, as you find this foreign courage to lean over and dribble spit over the slit of his cock. He gasps, watching the glob of saliva drip down the front of his dick till it's soaking into the curls at his pubic mound.

"Is this okay?" You already know the answer but you ask anyways, taking more pride than you should at the expression on the pretty metalheads face. He nods his head fervently, unable to respond right away.

You twist your palm, spreading your spit further until his whole head is covered and you're able to stroke him with no resistance.

"Fuuuck, yes. Yeah, that's so good baby." He's panting as you begin to properly jerk the tip of him off, the sounds in the room too lewd for you to handle. A squelchy feeling has developed between your thighs, led by each filthy groan that leaves your boyfriend's throat.

Then you're looking at him through fluttery lashes and a gone expression, with your chest rising and falling almost as rapidly as his and thick fingers grasp your wrist quickly, rougher than anticipated.

"Sorry, just - close."

Seeing his hand blanket yours over his cock is doing something to you. You know his palms like your own, hold them more than you look at your own, and yet right now such a sweet thing has never been more provocative.

"Shh, no more apologizing," you lean over and he meets you in the middle. The kiss is sloppy this time, evidence of the maddening desire taking him over from the inside out.

"Not fair," his voice is strained through your mouths ministrations. "Got me all worked up and you're sitting there neglected." He smiles and his tongue strokes your bottom lip. You shudder as that heat comes in an overwhelming wave.

He's gripping the back of your neck now, properly hungry and your hand continues its ministrations between your bodies, that wet sound prompting a shared groan from the both of you - intensifying the feeling. His nose is scrunched against your cheek from the vigour of his kisses.

"You can undress me."

He doesn't waste time once you've granted him verbal permission, and with an exhale you're being tipped over onto your back, breathing in the weight of him as nimble and eager fingers pull his tee shirt over and off your body.

"Jesus," He whines, and you're captivated by the look on his face. It's impossible not to feel flustered.

"Can I-" you don't let him finish.

"Yes, please touch me." You're just as fucked as he is, arching your chest upwards and into the warm, all encompassing mass of his palm. He stifles a groan, cock bobbing up and down in the space between you two, dribbling with a bead of pre arousal. You feel like you're losing your mind.

Eddie short circuits for about five whole seconds flat, and he can't concentrate. He makes a bee - line to your chest, plush lips sucking your swollen nipples into his mouth. A gasp and a pulse of your poor clit later, and your fingers delve into his curls like they'll keep you here in this moment forever.

He's sloppy, moving between the valley of your breasts to the other one, leaving trails of spit across your flesh.

"Eddie, that - that feels so good, can't - mmph." You're a mess. How are you such a mess? He's a phantom, a head of hair across your sternum until he glances up at you with saliva soaked lips and red cheeks and a sweaty forehead.

"Sweet girl, oh god I can't believe..." All you taste is him, the words being uttered between the space when he forces himself to breathe. "can't believe you're all mine, wanna make you feel so fucking good. Give you anythin' you want."

He lies his full weight on you, and through the thin sleeping shorts you've got on, his cock beckons you with throbs and weeps. You feel drunk off of him, every sense surrounded by Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

His shampoo from two days ago, the old spice lingering under his arms, the natural scent of his skin, the sweetness of his breath and the perspiration that's formed in little beads on his upper lip. He's all but devouring you, lust and admiration for the angel beneath him taking over any sense of importance regarding anything else.

Your heels dig into the back of his bum, knees pulling inward so that his hips come clashing into yours. Your fingernails claw on the material covering his back, taking it upon themselves to pull it over his head. He's beaming like a kid in a candy store at your eagerness, eyes all crinkly underneath.

"Want me to grab a rubber now?" He mumbles between the sloppy kisses, hoping you can't hear the hitch in his throat at the prospect of this finally happening.

"Mhmm, yes." It feels just as surreal for you.

He whines as he departs, reaching over across your head to pull open his bedside drawer and ungracefully tear open the new box of condoms. His eyebrows are furrowed, arms flexing with intensity from his excitement. He groans out of frustration, and you giggle, grasping his thick forearm.

"Let me help baby." You reach in the drawer for him and pull the box out, finishing the rip he'd made and pulling out a metallic row of squares. You tear one at the perforation and hand it to him, grinning at the entire situation. He huffs and rests his forehead between the valley of your breasts.

"What would I do without you?" He mutters, matching your expression when he lifts his head back up and pushes forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose.

"Not have sex, I suppose." You bite back with no hint of malice, only an insurmountable level of love and he sees it shimmering everywhere around you. His girl. His.

"You're somethin' else, sweetheart." He mouths the side of your face, across your jaw and underneath your ear.

You feel like you're in a psychological limbo, in a world between consciousness as he sits back on his haunches and lifts his shirt off of his body from the back of his collar. That may be a dramatic sentiment to many, but it's fitting.

He does it so casually, throws his shirt to the side with the rest of discarded clothing and stray items that live on his bedroom floor. You feel weak in the knees when he tears the condom package and pulls out the slippery rubber, unraveling it before bringing it down to his cock.

You watch his face the way his pink tongue darts out and nips the tip of his tongue, brows furrowed in concentration and arousal as he fits the condom down his thick shaft. You watch his biceps twist, his taut abdomen clench, the black ink coming alive with the ministrations of his muscles underneath.

When he meets your eyes again, you look completely overtaken with desire, eyelids heavy and breath bated. Your pebbled nipples stand at full attention, mimicking his dick and Eddie hooks his fingers underneath those infuriatingly sexy shorts of yours so that he can get rid of them.

You're not wearing underwear. Of course you aren't. Your entire existence is specifically designed to test the bounds of his composure, of his strength. The gold room lighting from his lamp illuminates your body and your shy thighs only part when he's placing his palms between them, slowly encouraging them to allow him a peek or two.

You reach out to stroke his arms as he separates your legs, his jaw hanging ever so slack, cock twitching just a few centimeters away from your opening.

"Fucking hell...you're so goddamn pretty." He strains, swallowing hard as he touches you with hesitant hands, as if he's scared to break you. Your hips lift, just enough to make contact with the tip of his dick and you whine. It's a sound so sweet he almost whimpers himself.

"Please, Eds. I want you inside of me. Please."

His stomach tightens and he crawls over you once again, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He maintains eye contact, breath fanning your mouth as he slips an arm between your bodies and grips his shaft, lining it up with your entrance. Your thighs lift towards your chest, ankles stationed at his waist, and you feel the welcome intrusion of his tip as it passes your slick labia.

You both take a breath in, your fingers needing a vice and moving to the back of his neck as he pivots his hips forward and slips himself into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch causes you to hiss, both in pleasure and pain.

"You okay? Let me know if I need to stop." He grunts, kissing your chin.

"M'okay, don't you dare stop."

His eyelids flutter in tandem with yours, a choked moan leaving his throat as he continues to push himself in, till he's nudging against the soft roundness of your cervix and his balls are resting against your ass.

It feels right. Having him this deep, this close.

You shudder nuzzling your face against the bicep that holds him up. You kiss the skin there and he groans, dragging himself back out and then back in. Your whole body jostles with the movement.

"Jesus Christ, how do you feel s'fucking good? I don't - I can't, fuck." He's a slur of words, beginning to form a steady rhythm. Your moans are more like squeaks the faster he goes, increasing the lewd, sticky sounds between your legs that squelch with each drag and pull of his cock.

"Eddie...E-eddie." Your words are hiccuped from the impact, his hair dangling in your face, tickling your cheeks. His belly is pressed right against yours, the curls at the mound of his pelvis pressed against yours. He lets out this pained sound and goes to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"My name, fuck say it again. Say it again." It's muffled but you can hear it right underneath your ear, his lips a soft vibration against your flesh. You feel so full, it's hard to speak at all. To say anything other than his name. So you recite it like it's the only words you know.

"Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie." They're all punctuated with a whimper that starts from your diaphragm and crawls it's way out of your throat, pistoned by his hips and their grueling ministrations. Skin against skin can be heard from down the park, you're convinced, with how he's fucking you.

Eddie is fucking you. Your boyfriend, Eddie, is fucking you.

"Ohhhh, god, please." You cry out, heels digging into his back, hands splayed across the broad expanse of his shoulder blades. Every breath that passes his lips is followed by a grunt, a groan, a sound that is so close to agony and even closer to toe curling pleasure.

Each stroke of his cock inside of you feels like a pull into his being, and you get frustrated with the fact that you can't see his face, tugging at the back of his neck.

When you look up at the boy above you, reality, for once, feels like the most beautiful thing you've ever endured.

He's flushed, all sweat and shades of pink and red. His eyes are glassy, mirroring yours in the way that it almost looks like he could shed a tear. You move his sticky bangs from his forehead and Eddie is sucker punched in the gut with a wave of adoration.

"Oh, sweetheart," he leans down, slowing his thrusts so that he can kiss you steadily, purposefully. Somehow he feels deeper this way impossibly so, and he nips your bottom lip when you flutter around him. "didn't mean to...to not show you attention m'sorry, just...you feel so good. S'like heaven."

He's half sober half drunk on your pussy and it's so fucking endearing. Neither of you can make out a coherent sentence.

"Keep - keep going, just like that, ohhh." You glance down between your bodies and somewhere behind your organs a warmth, teetering unbearable, flutters throughout your limbs. His arms shake with the fight to hold himself up, until he doesn't anymore, and slips his hands underneath you till they're sandwiched between the mattress and your back. Snug, safe, he engulfs you.

His thrusts are deep and slow now, meaningful instead of mindless bunny fucking. Which, he's not opposed to, but you're you. He wants to fuck you like he might not ever get the chance to again.

"I love you, I love you." He whimpers against the crook of your shoulder. You hold him with the same ferocity that he's holding you, staring up at the ceiling and the stars that blanket your vision instead of the fan above.

"I love you too, fuck, Eddie."

He makes this noise, it's almost pathetic. Petulant. That coil holding you tight, snaps and all at once you're gasping, thighs a deadly grip around his waist.

"Cu-Cumming, I'm cumming." Your walls flex and spasm around his length and Eddie thinks he might pass out. You're still twitching and whining his name with his balls are emptying, when he's spurting into the condom, nudging your cervix.

"Fuck, fuck just like tha- ohhh fuck." He thrusts like he's fucking his cum into you, like he's filling your womb up and making you his forever. He made you cum. He's never felt this high before, and he's a fucking drug dealer.

It's a mixture of panting and the thud of your shared heartbeat for what feels like eternity and one split second. You feel his lips peppering soft, gentle kisses along your jugular, and your fingers trace lines up and down his warm back as his cock softens inside of you.

He rubs his cheek against you, and your fingers pull his hair away from his pretty face. He's looking at you with so much love you could burst again.

"I love you so much." He speaks tenderly, softly, for once. It's scary and breathtaking all at once. The tip of his nose rubs yours, your smiles a reflection of the other.

"I love you too, Munson."

And you do. You really fucking do.

[ham1lton]

PARTY IN THE U.S.A!

pairings: charles leclerc x actress!reader.

faceclaim: rachel mcadams.

summary: before the miami grand prix, o/s posts you and charles goes on a journey to find you. too bad that time has plans of its own.

author’s note: the request said you wanted to have reader be introduced to charles through another driver’s gf but because i’m egotistical, i chose to link this to the nepo sister universe. so they meet through o/s. also i changed it up slightly! this can be read independently of the nsu but it’ll be more enjoyable if you read the other works.

wanna get tagged in any future works? sign up for my taglist! <3

liked by zendaya, charles_leclerc and 1,827,627 others.

oldersister: our new film ‘material girl’ is now out! enjoy my cameo in my best friend’s film! so proud of her and the most incredible team who worked with us to create this incredible film. thank you for allowing me to be a part of this 💕

neposisreader: a smile might be good.

-> oldersister: nothing to smile about in my life.

-> neposisreader: i already apologised for bringing lando to dinner without a warning!

user3: running to the cinema to watch this!

user1: so jealous of her life icl.

user4: no cause i had no clue o/s and y/n are childhood besties?! this changes everything.

user5: the two pretty best friends everyone has been looking for.

landonorris: whooo look at my sister in law 🥳

-> oldersister: blocking you immediately actually.

-> landonorris: WAIT !! 😩😭

user6: what’s charles doing here in the likes 🤨

-> user7: he’s friends with o/s. that’s probably all there is to it.

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liked by oldersister, neposisreader and 2,383,733 others.

yourusername: i had the best time working with the most magnificent group of people on this movie. ‘material girl’ is currently out! i had the opportunity to work with the best and make something truly unforgettable. keep an eye out for my bestie’s cameo! also my niece came to come visit me on set. my favourite gift <3

neposisreader: mrs fluffkins is evil.

-> yourusername: she’s an angel!

-> oldersister: exactly! thank you!!

-> yourusername: you know i got you bestie 😘

user1: you look so good in this shade of blonde!

user2: brb running to get my regina george halloween costume.

user3: charles liking y/n related posts? hmmm 🤨 you not slick baby.

*liked by landonorris.*

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liked by charles_leclerc, ynshoney and 234,672 others

ynswife: our girl y/n dropped to the jimmy fallon show to spill all the gossip about her newest film, her love of miami and her best friend oldersister.

user1: i love her tan and this hair on her!

-> user2: she’s always so happy and bubbly after spending time with o/s. that’s truly her girl.

user3: i watched material girl with my best friends and i almost cried at the end when regina had her big speech. i love y/n’s acting sm.

-> user4: she’s going to be in the david fincher adaptation of gone girl! so excited for her! she’s gonna kill it!

user8: did you guys notice how she stayed silent when the topic of her love life came up? she’s always so quick to mention she’s single….

-> user9: when she comes out as dating o/s >>>>

-> user17: when the doctors come back with your tests and legally diagnose you with delusional tendencies >>>

-> user12: what if she’s dating charles?? he’s been interacting with a lot of her accounts recently…

-> user7: i’m gonna put my hand on yours when i say this okay? that’s not happening beloved.

liked by oldersister, neposisreader and 1,627,892 others.

yourusername: miami i lovee youu 😘

oldersister: when did you take that pic of us?

-> yourusername: the lady behind us took it! she sent it to me through airdrop <3 you looked so cute i had to post it.

-> user1: they’re 100% dating.

-> user2: nah they’re definitely friends.

user3: WHO IS THE GUY IN THE THIRD PIC?

-> user4: it’s her costar! the proportions match!

-> charles_leclerc: no it isn’t. lol.

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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,037,637 others.

charles_leclerc: here is my ‘hard launch’ and now that i’ve got your attention. go watch my amazing talented girlfriend in her newest movie ‘material girl’.

oldersister: i still don’t like this.

-> landonorris: charles and i are in-laws now 😘

-> oldersister: who unblocked you from my instagram???

-> landonorris: WAIT NO 😭

user1: yasss watch this masterpiece of a movie!!

*liked by charles_leclerc.*

user2: king of promotion. y/n needs to get him a job in the marketing department.

danielricciardo: watched this film five times and if you saw me cry… no i didn’t.

user3: they’re actually so cute together?? this is growing on me.

yourusername: approved ✔️

-> charles_leclerc: just jumped in joy 😍‼️

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "HEAR ME OUT... dealer!colby x reader👀? (colby's her weed dealer..?)"

Warnings: SMUT18+, dealer!Colby, strong language, mentions of weed, smoking, driving while under the influence (please don't ever do that), sex as payment, teasing, heavy flirting, hair pulling, oral (f rec), slight squirting, rough unprotected sex, biting, creampie, nasty filth - this is your second warning :)

Word Count: 5.3k | not really edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You exhaled the smoke with a sigh, "We're almost out." You looked around the group and they all groan.

Sam takes the half smoked blunt from your hands and nudges you as he takes a drag, "Why don't you call up that dealer of yours, y/n."

Your eyes go wide, "Sam. Don't."

"Oh come on." He passes the blunt to Jake and looks back at you, "Why not?" You roll your eyes, "Because.. it's not like that."

"What it like then?" Jake asks leaning around Sam, smirking at you as the smoke leaves his lips, "You can't fall for your drug dealer. Nothing good ever comes out of that."

"Nothing is going to come out of it because I don't like him like that." You cross your arms, leaning back in your chair, "But I do like weed, and he's the only one who ever seems to have so.."

You pull your phone out, clicking on the name.

Colby Brock.

Hey, it's y/n.

You rest your phone in your lap, sighing as you look up, waiting for an answer, "Is one of you sober enough to drive?"

They all laugh and Sam looks at you, "I can drive you."

"No you can't." You laugh and watch as he stands up, "What are you doing, Golbach?"

"I'll put on a full sobriety test for you right now." He laughs and the group cheers him on. You roll your eyes, picking up your phone when it vibrates.

I know who you are. Whatcha lookin for?

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, zoning out as you focus on texting Colby back.

I think you know exactly what I'm looking for. I have some friends over tonight.

You see the text bubbles pop up instantly and you try not to show that this excites you.

You have friends over and didn't invite me? Ouch.

You laugh slightly, sighing as you type.

I didn't think you'd want to hang out with me.

You rest your phone down, looking up to see Sam balancing on one of the patio loungers, "Sam. Get down before you break your neck or something."

He laughs and jumps down, "Are we a go?"

"Not yet. He hasn't said if he's home or not." You check your phone, nothing, so you set it back down, kinda irritated with yourself.

"Drug dealers are always home, y/n." Jake laughs and you shrug, "Not mine. He has a life outside of his business."

"And how would you know that?" Jake raises his brows, smirking slightly and you change your answer, "I don't.. I'm just saying he might."

"Uh huh. Sure."

Your phone vibrates and you look down, nodding as you read the text.

I'm just pickin, y/n. Of course you can come over, just let me know when you're on your way.

"We're good." You look back down and type.

I'll be there soon.

"Alright. See you guys in a few." Sam grabs his keys and you roll your eyes, "Don't break anything while I'm gone."

They all laugh and wave you off as you walk out the gate with Sam, "Are you good to drive?" He looks back at you, "Y/n. If I didn't think I could, I wouldn't have offered."

"Alright." You sigh, giving in just because you wanted to see Colby. You get in, buckling up before punching in the address to Sam's car gps.

"You have that memorized?" He laughs and you nod, "I've been there enough to know." You laugh and he starts driving, glancing over at you once you reach the first red light, "Are you guys hooking up?"

You snort, "Oh my god, Sam. No. He's my weed dealer."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that. But you seem very excited to go see him." Sam starts driving and you shake your head, "I'm not excited to see him, I'm excited to get more weed."

That's a lie. A complete lie. You liked being around Colby. He seemed to like you, and although you weren't sure if it was so you'd keep coming back to buy from him or what, you liked it.

And it works because you go back to him.

And only him.

"I just don't need you getting caught up in his more than weed bullshit." Sam pulls up from your thoughts and you sigh, "From what I know.." you look at him, "Which isn't much.. he only sells weed. Maybe coke? I don't know. I don't ask."

"He has good weed, I'll give him that." Sam chuckles and you nod, "He really does." You giggle and point, "Pull up behind that car."

"Is that his car?" Sam nods towards the blacked out Mercedes and you nod, "I don't know, this is a richy neighborhood so, not sure."

It was definitely his car. You've seen him get out of it one time when you got here too early.

"It's nice, whoever it belongs to." Sam looks over at you, "Text me if you need anything." You smile, "I'll be fine, Sam." You open the door, "I'll be right back."

You get out, making your way through the small alley between the houses and walk up to the back door. It always shocks you that Colby lives in a regular looking house. It's a nice, very rich looking house, but you always pinned him with having a penthouse suite with smoke filling all the rooms and parties every weekend.

But to you, that was just the drug dealer stereotype.

Colby was.. different.

You knock and wait a few seconds before the door opens. You look up, smiling at Colby through the screen door, "Hey."

He pushes the door open and nods for you to come in, "What's up?" He watches you walk by him, checking behind you to make sure no one else is with.

"Not much, really." You stop, turning towards him. He shuts the door, locking it before turning towards you, "Nothing at all?" He chuckles and you shake your head, "Same old, you know."

You laugh slightly and he nods, "I gotta admit, I was kinda shocked to see you texted me with your name."

"I thought you didn't save the numbers of your customers so.." you shrug and he smirks, "not the ones I don't like seeing."

Your heart skips a beat and you smile, "Well thanks." You try to play it cool, you don't want to seem too excited.

"How much are we looking at getting, today Miss y/n?" Colby walks in to his living room, you following behind him, "Um.. I have like six people at my house right now so enough to get me through tonight yet."

"Oh so you can text me and come back tomorrow for more?" He winks and looks down at his stash.

Maybe it was the pot you smoked before, but you felt a weird wave of confidence wash over you, "You're catching onto my tactic, Colbs. Gonna have to switch it up soon."

He looks up at you, a huge smile resting on his face, "I knew it."

"Knew what?" You ask walking over and sitting down in the chair. He shrugs, "You tell me." You lean back, crossing your leg over the other, "Tell you what?"

He leans back as he ties the bag closed, "That I'm your favorite dealer and you can't help but stay away from me."

"You're my only dealer and well.." you smirk as you shrug and tilt your head, "You're not, fully, wrong."

"What am I wrong about then?" He tosses the bag on the table and leans back, "Why don't you enlighten me?"

You remembered that Sam is in the car waiting, "maybe.." you stand up, pulling money from your pocket, "When I see you next, yeah?" You toss the money on the table and reach down to grab the baggie but Colby snatches it away before you can get it in your grasp.

You tilt your head up slightly, looking at him through your lashes, "Is that not enough?"

"Oh no, it's plenty." He leans back, legs spread as his hands rests on his thighs, "you always have to leave so soon, don't you?"

You tilt your head, standing up slowly, "I have a friend waiting for me in the car."

"Oh do ya?" He tisks his tongue, "What a shame."

"Why do you say that?" You lick your lips, crossing your arms as you watch him look up at you. He shrugs, rolling the bag in his fingers, "maybe.. I'll tell you when I see you next, yeah?"

You smirk as he uses your words against you, "Tomorrow?"

He raises his eyebrows, "Yeah. Yeah." He hands you the bag and you gently take it from his open hand, "I'll text you tomorrow. If I'm free, you know." He chuckles and you roll your eyes, "Uh huh."

You smirk as you shove the bag into your jacket pocket, "I'll be free, so.." you purse your lips, "I have to get back to my friends."

"Oh yeah, the party I wasn't invited to." He smirks as he stands up and you point to the door, "Wanna follow us back over?"

He shakes his head, "Nah, I'm not really into group things." He chuckles and you scoff, a laugh quickly following behind, "oh, god. Colby. it's not.. a group thing if that's what you mean."

He shrugs, "You never know." His eyes scan over your face and he bites his lip, letting it pull slowly between his teeth, "Don't wanna keep your friend waiting any longer, right?"

As much as you wanted to say fuck it, and let Sam sit, you had enough respect for him to not do that, "Yeah.. I guess you're right."

You nod to Colby, "Thank you. Again."

He smiles, "I'm always here." He winks and you turn to walk out the door, moving around the banister to walk down the ally.

You speed up your walk to the car and open the door, plopping in with a smile.

"Take it that it went good?" Sam asks with a laugh and you look at him, "Yeah. It always does." You try to play it down, but you can't help but to think about the flirting that just went down.

Colby has an effect on you and you like it.

A lot.

"So what.. you guys get a quickie in or wh-"

"Sam!" You scoff, "Oh my god." You try to fight off your smile, "I wish. But no."

"Gross. That's - no. I didn't need to hear that." Sam pretends to gag as he starts driving, "But on a serious note.." he glances over at you and you know a lecture is in the works.

"What's the serious note, Sam?" You shift slightly and look over at him as you rest your elbow on the door, "If you're going to tell me that Jake was right, and that nothing good ever comes from seeing your dealer.. I know.. and that's why I haven't jumped his bones yet."

He raises his brows, looking over at you quickly before looking back to the road, "Yeah.. I mean.. yeah.." he laughs slightly, "That's what I was going to say."

You laugh, "Colby flirts with me.. yes. But I think that he does that with all of his other female customers. You know, so they keep coming back to him." You shrug, "he's very nice looking, I'll be honest, and yes. I would like to, you know.."

Sam cringes and shakes his head slightly, "uh huh."

"But if I did that, and it blew up, I'd have to find another dealer or I'd quit smoking all together."

Sam looks at you shocked, "You'd.. quit smoking over a guy?" He snorts, "Really?"

You sigh, "Okay. No. Probably not. That's a bit drastic." You laugh, "Kind of. I don't know. I'd just.. i don't know, you have a dealer so you'd be the one we go to."

"Colby has good shit. So in my own.. selfish needs.. please don't blow this." Sam smirks, "Plus.. how do you know he's worth all the hype you tell yourself?"

You shrug, "hard to explain. Maybe you can come in with me next time and see for yourself."

"I'm fine in the car." He says quickly, "I don't need to be doused in all the sexual tension you say there is."

"Good choice." You laugh and watch out the window as he drives you both back to your house.

You knew it was there. As soon as your eyes meet his you get this feeling in the pit of your stomach but the advice, if that's what you want to call it, that Sam and Jake tell you steer you away because you were kind of afraid of rejection.

Especially from Colby.

He's hot. Mysterious, and kinda dangerous.

But that turned you on. Made you want him even more. Even if it was just for one night.

You needed to have him. There was this.. hunger, inside of you that wanted him and only him. No matter the cost because you knew in your heart he wanted you, too.

And you were determined to get him. No matter what anyone said to try and steer you away.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The sun shining through your open blinds makes you groan as you roll away to try and avoid it. You took a deep breath, yawning as you sit up.

You take a minute, thinking about the smoke session from last night. Laughing to yourself as you remember all the funny stuff that was said and done.

You bite down on your lip as you remember going to get more weed from Colby. How he flirted with you effortlessly, and how you flirted with him.

You grab your phone, checking to see if he messaged you.

And he did.

Did you go through all of it yet?

That was sent at four thirty two this morning. Right after you decided to call it a night and head to bed.

You mentally curse yourself, mad at yourself because you could have been talking to him. But that's alright, it gives you a chance to take a sober minute and actually think about how you wanted to play this game.

You bite down on your lip as your thumbs pluck the keyboard.

Not all of it, but it definitely won't be enough to last me.

You set your phone down on the bed as you stand up, walking over to grab a change of clothes. You grab your phone before heading to the shower.

As you turn the shower on, you hear your phone buzz, but you don't jump. You get in the shower, closing the door and try not to overthink everything.

Colby does want you, but he won't tell you that. You don't know it, but he has rules. He doesn't hook up with customers, but he has a hard time with you.

As you get out, you wrap a towel around your body and swipe the steam from the mirror away with your hand. You stare at yourself, thinking about the only thing that's really been on your mind lately.

You tap your phone, leaning forward so it'll unlock and your eyes scan over Colby's texts.

You know where to find me. I'll be around today, if you wanted to bang.

I mean hang. Or whatever. lol

Your stomach flips. Or whatever. You bite your thumb nail, sighing to calm your excitement.

I just got out of the shower. I can get dressed and come over?

You walk back over to your room, tossing the original pick of clothes to the floor as you look for something a little more - intriguing.

Your phone buzzes on your dresser and you pick it up. Smirking as you read his response.

Let me know when you're on your way. I'll leave the door unlocked for you.

You smile, texting back a simple, sounds good, before you go back to scouring your closet.

You opt for a simple, yet like you wanted, intriguing look. A pair of black ripped skinny jeans. A cropped white tank top along with cropped dark jean jacket, and black ankle boots.

You finished getting ready and picked up your phone, hands kinda shaking nervously as you type your, I'm ready. Leaving soon, message to Colby.

You grab your bag, making sure you have everything before walking to your car. You take a deep breath, looking at your phone as you read over Colby's text.

Great. See you soon, y/n.

Your heart skips a beat as you put the car in reverse, backing out of your driveway.

You were sober.

Your thoughts about Colby were still clear, and most definitely there.

As you drive over, your fingers tap the steering wheel, anxiously trying to keep the scenarios out of your mind because you don't want to get your hopes up completely.

You pull up behind his car, parking and shutting the engine off. You grab your phone, I'm here. I'll come to the back.

You get out, pulling your bag onto your shoulder and shutting your door. You force yourself to walk, calmly to the back because your excitement was racing sky high.

You honestly didn't know what to expect.

As you walk up the steps, the door opens and Colby pushes the screen door open, "Hello again." You look up, flashing him a smile as you walk by him, "Hey."

He shuts the doors, walking by you to lead you into the living room, "Sleep good?"

You laugh slightly, setting your bag down with a nod, "Oh yeah. I couldn't get them to leave, I was falling asleep before even making it up to my bed."

Colby chuckles, leaning back against the couch, "I would have just went to bed."

"I didn't want to leave them unsupervised." You laugh and sit down, crossing your leg over the other, "I didn't have anything specific planned today, so sleeping in was alright."

"Seemed to work out pretty good." Colby smiles and points, "You wanna.." he trails off watching as you look from him to the tray on the table. You nod, "Please."

You shift through your bag, "fuck." You plop your hand on your bag, looking up at him, "I don't have my wallet."

He furrows his brows, "You.. want to pay me for the joint I offered you?"

You laugh slightly, "No - ah, I mean I was going to see if I could get more but I do-"

He cuts you off, "I'm sure we can come up with a payment arrangement. No worries, sweetheart."

You slowly pull your bag off your lap, plopping it back in the floor, "I'm sure we can."

He smirks as he twists the end of the joint, "Just a heads up, I have like two people coming today, not sure when, though."

You nod, "That's fine."

He lights up the joint, taking a drag. He holds the smoke in as he looks at you. He exhales, "Come on. I don't bite." He smirks as he holds the joint out infront of him.

You smirk, getting up to move next to him and he places the joint in between your lips, "Unless you want me to."

You take a drag, eyes staying locked on his. You pull it from your lips, smiling as you inhale deep. You blow the smoke out, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Oh, so you like being bitten?" His brow twitches and you shrug, "Depends on the person, I guess."

He nods, taking the joint from your fingers, "I see." He leans back next to you, picking up his phone from the arm rest of the couch, "Taylor will be here in five."

Your eyes scan over his screen and you can definitely tell it's a girl because on her end, the texts are flirty and cute.

But you can't help but smirk when you see his one to three word responses.

Colby looks at you, smirking, "You know.. I broke my rules for you."

Your eyes snap up to his, "Rules?"

He nods, "Rules. Yes."

You turn towards him, the weed relaxing you enough to egg him on, "Do tell, Mr. Brock."

He chuckles, taking a drag of the joint before handing it to you, "I don't invite people over." He watches you take a drag and his teeth hold his bottom lip, "Especially girls."

"Then why am I here?" You lean forward, taking the joint from his fingers and lean back, slipping the end between your lips and dragging.

Colby stares at you for a few seconds before smirking, "Because I think.." he leans in, eyes on yours, "..you like doing bad things.. with bad boys."

Before you exhale, he slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in just enough for your lips to brush his.

He inhales the smoke as you exhale.

You watch him leans back, smirking as he blows the smoke out, "am I right?"

You shrug, "I wouldn't say.. boys." You smirk, "There's only one, in particular.. and I just so happen to be doing something bad with him.. right now."

"I keep it short with the female customer side. I don't want anyone thinking anything, taking it the wrong way, ya know?" He ashes the joint and sets it down, "But you.."

"My friends.. would tease me about having a crush on you.. but I knew I was right." You cross your arms and shake your head slightly, "I was right."

"Right about what?" He smirks, resting his ankle on his knee, "I'm all ears."

You move closer to him, "There was no shortness." You lick your lips, looking up at him, "There was flirting."

"There sure was." Colby nods with a smirk, "I tried not to. The first couple of times you started coming to me. I did try. But I just couldn't help it."

As you go to lean in, a knock on the door cuts the interaction short.

"Fucking hell." Colby curses, "Why now?"

"It's fine. My only plans today are being here." You smirk and lean back as he stands up. He glances down at you, "Feel free to roll another one if you want."

You nod, smiling as you reach forward to do just as he says. You glance up, watching as the blonde walks through the door, "Hi Colby. Sorry I'm late. The traffic was awful." She smiles and he nods, "How much are you here for?"

You smirk, looking down as he gets right to the point.

"My usual." She giggles, "Colby you should know this by now."

He walks in, "An eighth? A quarter? Your order changes every time, Taylor.." He walks around, sitting down next to you as she stands on the other side of the coffee table, mumbling an almost audible, "Eighth."

You glance up at her, fighting a smirk as you notice her whole demeanor changed since she seen you, "Hey." You tilt your head, flashing her a smile as you twist the end of the cone.

She rolls her eyes, "Yeah, hi." She looks at Colby, "I was wondering if I could do half the payment now then the oth-"

Colby cuts her off with a hard, "No." He chuckles, shaking his head as he bags up the weed, "I don't do that half payment now, other half later bullshit. You know that."

"Are you sure because I can definitely give it to you Friday." She twirls her hair, trying to gain his attention back onto her.

He looks up at her, "It's full payment now or nothing, Taylor." He shrugs, "I don't know who told you I do payment plans, but you need to tell them that they're sadly mistaken."

You lean back, covering your smirk by holding the joint between your lips and lighting it.

"Yeah, I'll definitely tell them." she pulls money out of her back pocket. Colby reaches out for it, but she misses his hand, purposely, and drops it on the table, "That enough?"

He picks it up, counting it, "Sure is. Enjoy." He goes to hand her the bag, but misses her hand, on purpose of course.

She scoffs, "Is this really how you're going to treat me?"

"You get what you give, Taylor. Maybe next time come in here with some respect." Colby stares up at her until she sighs, "Fine."

She bends down, grabbing the bag and walking away. Colby reaches over, plucking the joint from your hand as he yells a sarcastic, "Have a great day."

You giggle, "That was so mean."

He chuckles, "She wasn't going to disrespect me. I won't allow it."

"Yeah, it took all I had to tell her to stop being a bitch." You watch as he takes a drag and exhales, "I would have loved to see it."

"Maybe next time." You wink as you smile, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him take another drag.

"So.." he passes you the joint after ashing it, "Where were we?"

You take a drag, holding it in as you tilt your head. You exhale, "I think..." you move closer, "I was about to kiss you."

"I like where this is going." He brushes hair from your face, moving it behind your shoulder, "I think we have some time before the last person shows up.. so.."

You set the joint in the ash tray and move to straddle him. His hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans and give your ass a squeeze. Your eyes scan over his face, locking eyes with his slightly red and blue ones before you dip your head down and lock lips with his.

He groans against you, pulling you closer and you feel the hard bulge of his jeans grind against you.

Your hands move to his hair, tugging slightly as his lips move down your neck. You let out a gasp as you feel him bite down gently.

Your hips move slowly as you feel him mark your neck, "Colby." You whimper quietly, "P-please."

"How bad do you want me, baby?" He leans back, looking up at you and you smirk, "About as bad as you want me."

He smiles, nodding, "You know that's a lot, right?"

You nod, "That's how much I want you."

He stands up, your legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck. He walks you back the hall and into his room. He kicks the door shut before walking you over and your back meets the bed.

You sit up slightly, watching as he slips his black t-shirt off, revealing his very fit figure, "Fuck."

He smirks, "Let's see you do that too."

You smirk and sit up, kicking off your boots as you slip off your jacket and toss it, your tank following right behind.

"Shit." Colby whispers as he moves to lay his body over yours. He kisses your lips, moving down your neck and chest. He stops at your boob, taking your nipple in his mouth.

You moan, back arching as he sucks and flicks it with his tongue. Your hand lays on his head, curling his hair around your fingers, "Fuck, yes."

You look down at him and he looks up at you, popping off as he kisses down your torso. Your body jolts as his kisses slightly tickle, but your eyes watch as his hands undo your jeans.

You press your hands into the bed as you lift your hips to allow him to slip off both your jeans and panties in one swoop fell swoop.

He pushes your thighs apart, not giving you a second to process as he drops to his knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed.

He licks his lips before leaning in, attaching them to your clit. You gasp, arching your back as your brows furrow with the scrunch of your face, "S-shit. Yes."

He moans against you, moving his head down to slip his tongue into you. His hands grip your hips, pinning them down as he focuses on the taste of you.

He leans back, eyes locking on yours as your chest rises and falls quickly, "You taste better than I ever thought of."

You smile, biting your lip as you watch him lean back in. Two of his fingers drag up your thigh before they're brought to your center, rubbing gently before slipping inside.

You moan, clenching around him as he thrusts his fingers in and out slowly. His lips trail up your inner thigh, watching as you twist and turn as your orgasm builds up.

“You gonna cum for me?” His voice is low and you nod, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Cum for me, baby. Come on.” His words bring you closer, “You look so pretty when you’re like this. On the verge of snapping.”

You let out a moan as you feel your body tense up and jolt. Liquid leaks out, indicating that he got you to squirt a tad bit, “Yeah, baby. That’s it.” Colby groans as his fingers curl, “Can you do it again for me?”

His lips attach to your clit and you let out a louder moan, whimpering as he gets you to squirt for him again.

“So fuckin’ hot.” He withdrawals his fingers, moving to stand up as he looks over you, “you’re worth breaking my rules for.”

You smile weakly at his words, opening your eyes to lock them on his. You reach up, whimpering as you motion for him to come to you.

He hovers his body over yours, brushing hair from your face. You can see his chin glisten in what little light that’s illuminating the room.

His lips crash onto yours and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

His cock, that’s pressing teasingly against your pussy, starts to enter and you gasp as he continues to slide fully in.

“Colby.” Your voice is barely there, “Fuck.”

“You are incredible.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before leaning up. His hand lays on your throat, fingers hooking over your bottom row of teeth, “You look incredible like this.”

Your tongue runs over his fingers and he moves his hand so you can wrap your lips around them. Sucking as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in.

“Rough, Colby.”

And with that, it wasn’t long until you’re flipped over, bent over with your ass in the air and chest pressed against the bed.

His hands tightly gripping your hips as you’re desperately clinging onto the blanket, knuckles white from holding so tight.

His thrusts are punishing. Hard, and fast.

“S-so close.” You moan out loudly, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You push your hips back the best you can and Colby leans down, sliding his hand into your hair to lift your head.

His nose rubs the side of your face, “How close?”

“There.. almost there.” Your brain was foggy. You felt like you couldn’t comprehend words.

Colby had you a mess.

An absolute mess.

His hand moves from your hair, sliding around your throat. His thumb gently caresses your face before moving his hand further down to squeeze.

You squeak at the sudden loss of air, trying to moan but nothing is coming out.

Your vision goes black as you feel yourself squeeze his cock and release it as you cum.

He fucks you through your high, moaning lowly in your ear about how much of a good girl you’re being for him.

“Such a good fucking girl.” His lips drag back your cheek and his teeth sink into the lobe of your ear, “Taking me so fucking well.”

His hand releases your throat and you gasp, breathing heavy as you cheek and chest rest against the bed. You reach behind you, looking for his hand.

He grabs your wrist, pinning it down against your lower back, groaning as his thrusts grow sloppy, “Fuck.. where do you want me, y/n?”

In a breath, “Anywhere.”

“Say no more.” He smirks and bites his lip, tilting his head back as he gives you a few more thrusts before they turn sloppy.

He pushes his cock fully into you, moaning as he feels himself spill deep inside of you. He lets go of your hand, gently massaging your hips as he pulls out.

Your body falls onto the bed, collapsing from the exhaustion.

Colby lays next to you, brushes hair from your face with a smile, “You alright?”

You nod weakly, “I’m very alright.” You smile, sliding a hand over to lay on his chest, “Do you still want me to pay for my weed?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No.” he brings your hand to his lips, kissing gently, “this payment has been accepted.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

YALL I love this. As always, let me know how you liked it!

Likes and reblogs all very appreciated!

Love you all! 🖤

[suuuupernovaaa]

'eveng- Part 2

‘eveng [ˈʔɛ.vɛŋ] n. child

Request from @rainbowsocks: Can we have a part 2 where we see the family’s reaction to neteyams daughter?

Neteyam returned, having secured peace for your people after a year of war, to find you had a very big - and also very small - surprise for him; now, his family gets the same surprise.

Picks up right where Part 1 left off. Part 1 is probably necessary before reading this. Go ahead and read it - this will be here for you when you're done.

Part 1, Part 3

590 words.

"Parul," you said with a contented sigh. "Perfect."

Your mate held you close to him, your sleeping newborn daughter between the two of you, and you had everything you could possibly want.

"My family! They need to meet her."

Eagerly, you nodded. As if on cue, as you both turned to find them, the rest of the Sullys were already arriving - probably having followed Neteyam.

They had a similar reaction to your mate - excitement as they charged towards the two of you, and then absolute shock when they saw the small bundle in Neteyam's arms.

Lo'ak was the first to speak. "Holy shit. Who's baby is that, Neteyam?"

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh.

"She is mine, Lo'ak. Ours," Neteyam replied, his voice absolutely booming with pride as he looked down at your daughter, and then over at you. "This is my daughter. Your niece."

"Oh, Great Mother!" Neteyri rushed past her family straight to you, bringing you into her arms. "Tell me how you are doing, Y/N. How was the birth? The pregnancy? How do you feel now?"

You felt overwhelmed at the attention from Neteyam's mother, and so oddly grateful that she had rushed to you, and not your daughter. It made you feel special, not overlooked as new mothers so often did.

"The pregnancy was easy, the birth was really hard, and I'm very tired," you replied honestly, and she gave you a knowing smile.

"We are here now. May I hold my first grandchild?" She finally turned her attention to her son, arms outstretched, and he placed the tiny child safety there. "What is her name?" Neytiri asked quietly, not taking her eyes off the baby.

"Parul," you and Neteyam replied in sync.

Jake approached, putting an arm around his wife to gaze down at your child. "Wow. Look at that. Looks just like you when you were born - all wrinkly and beautiful."

He reached out, clapping his eldest son on the back. "Well done."

Neytiri scowled up at him. "Your son has done nothing. Congratulate Y/N, she did all the work."

Jake laughed, and pulled up in for a rare embrace. "Good job, girl."

You hugged him in return, and the rest of Neteyam's siblings gathered, cooing over the baby and asking so many questions about how it was to be pregnant, and what the baby was like now.

"Well, mostly she sleeps and eats. And poops. Do you want to change her next diaper, Uncle Lo'ak?"

He wrinkled his head, but smiled down at his niece in his arms when she cooed and smiled in her sleep.

"How could someone as ugly as Neteyam make something so..." Lo'ak trailed off.

"Gorgeous," Kiri finished his sentence for him, and then smiled at me. "I can't believe we missed everything."

"There will be another, someday," I said, and Neteyam looked at me with wide eyes.

"I just met this one," he said, and his family laughed.

That night, Neytiri stayed nearby so she could help with the baby at night, and allow you a little bit of sleep. You were so grateful for her - and so tired - that you cried a little bit when she told you. Your own parents were gone, and you had felt so alone through your pregnancy and birth.

You prayed to the Great Mother, thanking her for returning your family so soon.

That night, you slept peacefully in your mate's arms, knowing that he and his family were back to take care of you.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Aisle Amore

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader Summary: You truly never know who you might meet in the grocery store. CW: no smut, all fluff. Flirting, mention of divorce, talks of food, more adorable flirting. Word Count: 3.4k AN: I've gone soft!! I couldn't stop thinking about how the couple in Wonderful Tonight and Netflix & Chill met and even though no one asked, this is exactly how they met. I worked in a grocery store for almost 15 years and I can tell you right now that I would to SPRINTING to the pasta aisle. Special thank you to @mermaidgirl30 for beta reading and both her and @littlevenicebitch69 for helping me come up with a title. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

To you, there’s nothing worse than asking for help. You’ve been fiercely independent your entire life, and these snapped ligaments have been testing you. Your friends say they don’t mind helping, but YOU mind them helping. The pain in your ankle has finally subsided enough that you can put a little weight on it and only use one crutch.

Freedom! 

You shut your laptop at 6 pm, change into something that isn’t pyjama pants and begrudgingly put on a bra. The first stop on your newly found freedom tour is the grocery store. Thirteen year old you would be appalled at how excited you are over this. You jot down all the ingredients you’ll need to make homemade pasta, marinara sauce and meatballs. 

Living in downtown DC has lots of perks, one of them being you can walk to the grocery store that’s just around the block. After gingerly testing your ankles a few times you decide you can walk there. Your dad’s voice echoes through your head, “This family doesn’t cry, take care of yourself, don’t depend on anyone but you”. 

The walk there is easy, it feels good to be out in the summer evening sun, soaking in the vitamin D that you’ve been missing out on the last few weeks. You grab one of those small baskets with wheels and head into the store. It might be dramatic, but it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve been out on your own and you feel that same hyped elation you had at 16 when you got your license and your parents allowed you to go out on your own the first time. Except at 16 you picked up your friends and went to the record store, you were much cooler in your youth. 

“Stick to the list,” you say to yourself, realizing you’re slowly becoming just like your mother. That’s fucking depressing. 

The first items are olive oil and flour, you crutch along, the sounds of metal clicking and the rubber bottom squeaking following you as you move along the shiny white tile floor. A song you vaguely remember hearing during your childhood plays overhead, Eric Clapton singing about a woman looking lovely. The bakery must have fresh bread, and the delicious scent of it makes your mouth water. 

Focus! 

As you turn down the pasta aisle, you brush past a man in a suit who’s looking at the canned pasta sauces, poor sap, and stop about ten feet away from him. The small bag of flour you need is on an easily accessible shelf but of course, there’s only one left and it’s all the way at the back. 

Marcus holds up a jar of canned marinara, silently humming along to Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton. He swears he hears his grandmother on his mother’s side rolling in her grave. She wasn’t Italian, but owned a restaurant and was definitely looking down at him ashamed that he was BUYING something she taught him to make.

Sorry grams, he thinks, just as someone hobbles past him, vanilla wafting behind her, temporarily replacing the scent of the fresh bread he’s also going to pick up. His grandmother might come back just to slap him for this dinner tonight. Granted, he did just return from seeing his ex and her new boyfriend so maybe she’d take pity on him. Bake him those gooey chocolate chip cookies he loved so much. 

As he turns to head toward the pasta he sees a woman who quite frankly takes his breath away. She’s so beautiful that he almost can’t take her all in at once. Her bare legs are toned and tanned, wrapped in long black biker shorts, paired with a plain grey t-shirt and unzipped black hoodie. One high top converse laced up on one foot, the other in an uncomfortable looking boot. Her hair is in a low messy bun with almost too perfectly placed pieces along her neck and face. She seems to invade every ounce of him, until all he can see is her and all he can smell is warm vanilla. His mouth goes dry, and his heartbeat fills his ears. 

This next bit happens so quickly that he doesn’t have time to even think about it. But you would later describe it as not one of your finest moments, and he would describe it as the moment that changed his life. 

He watches as you reach above your head, raising up on the tippy toe of your good foot. As you lean forward, your hollow aluminum crutch slips out from underneath you and falls to the ground. An echoing tinny bang startles you and you stumble, putting too much pressure on your broken foot. The sweetest sounding “Ouch! Motherfucker,” leaves your pouty pink lips as Marcus rushes to catch you. 

“Whoa,” he says as he reaches out to steady you, one hand wrapping around your hip, the other cupping your elbow, helping you off your injured leg. “Are you ok?” 

Your cheeks flush as you look up at him. “Sorry, thank you.” 

Your bright blue eyes wash over him, and something tugs behind his heart. Eric Clapton singing "Oh my darling, you are wonderful tonight" as he stands there temporarily stunned, unsure of where he is or what is name is. It's just you.

It doesn’t make any sense, you could be married for all he knows, but something about you draws him in. He didn’t think he’d feel this way again for a very long time, but he needs to find a way to keep talking to you. 

“Let me get that for you,” he says, his hand moving from your elbow, reaching up and easily plucking the flour off the shelf. 

“Thanks, I could have gotten it.” You say and he fights to stop from laughing. He can tell that you’re not someone who asks for help. No, you’re independent and strong willed. And fuck if that doesn’t just make that tug behind his heart pull that much harder. 

“I know you can, you just scared me.” He looks down at you softly as you stare up at him. 

He’s suddenly very aware that he still has one hand on your hip. Your shirt had ridden up as you wobbled, and the skin of your hip is soft and warm against his palm. He finds himself wondering if the rest of you is just as comforting. Just as an inviting. The light scent of your vanilla perfume fills the small space between the two of you. 

“Look,” he says, finding it inside himself to peel his hand off you now that you’re steady, placing your flour in your basket and bending to grab your crutch. “My grandma is already cursing me from heaven for buying canned sauce and boxed pasta. Can you please let me help you?” 

You open your mouth and then close it, almost like you’re trying to come up with a reason to not let him, so he quickly adds, “For my sake.” 

You laugh through your nose, shaking your head and taking your crutch from this incredibly handsome stranger. 

Please don’t be married. Or a total creep. 

“Smooth,” you say teasingly. 

He tugs at his white button up shirt collar. “Is it hot in here?" He fakes a dramatic cough, "I swear - she’s watching me.” 

You look up at the white painted ceiling of the grocery store. “OK, grandma. Chill. I’ll let him help me.” 

When you look back at him he’s smiling from ear to ear, and if you thought he was handsome before; well, fuck, there’s not even a word to describe how unbelievably charming he looks right now. 

He looks down at your basket before saying, “Do you have a big list?” 

“Umm,” you say holding out the special lined paper you have to make grocery lists. “I have a few things, ya.” 

His thick fingers brush lightly against yours as he takes the list. You can’t help but notice that he’s not wearing a wedding ring, score, his nails are trimmed short and his cuticles are nicely manicured. You assume he must have some sort of fancy office job, like a lawyer or an accountant. He seems to radiate stability and you didn't realize you could be so aroused by fingers.

“Are you making pasta? And sauce?” He asks as his brown doe eyes scan your list. 

“I am,” you say proudly. You might not be a world famous chef, but you take pride in your cooking abilities. 

He smiles back at you again. “Stay here,” he says softly, “I’m gonna grab a cart.” 

As he turns to walk away, taking your basket and his sauce with him, you notice the way his grey suit jacket clings to his broad shoulders. Accountant by day, muscle model by night? Muscle model? Great, he’s broken your brain. 

It doesn’t take long before you hear the distinct rumbling of the plastic wheels of a shopping cart heading your way. Just as your handsome stranger comes back into the aisle “At Last” by Etta James starts to play. 

“I’m Marcus, by the way,” he says, grabbing a box of pasta on the shelf and sitting it next to his sauce in the top part of the cart. 

You say your name and notice the tiniest glint in his eye as the sound of it wraps around him. “Well then, we’d better get going on this list.” 

He moves slowly, allowing you to set the walking pace. He’s taken your list and the entire thing feels almost too domestic, like you can envision yourself doing this every weekend with him for the rest of your lives. Maybe there would even be a kid in that little part where he puts his boxed pasta and canned sauce. 

“Alright, so we covered names and who grew up where. So, what do you do for a living?” You ask, snatching a bottle of olive oil off the shelf. 

“I - uh - I work in law enforcement,” he says. 

You look at him, then his tie, then back at him. With a hint of amusement in your voice you say, “Pretty fancy dress code. What are you? Like FBI or something.” 

“Yes, actually. And now that you know that, I miiiight have to kill you.” 

You laugh, “Sure know how to put a girl at ease, Agent Pike.” 

The way you say agent, all teasing and flirty, goes straight to his cock. He’s been called Agent Pike thousands of times over his career but it’s never sent a shiver down his body like that before. 

He runs a hand over his patchy scruff. “I’m kidding. About the killing part, not the FBI part.” 

“Thanks for clarifying,” you laugh.

Whitney Houston’s voice floats across the store, singing about dancing with someone who loves her. 

Neither of you is particularly paying attention to your list or what aisle you’re in. You snake up and down each aisle, both of you occasionally grabbing something you need. 

“What about you?” He asks. Something about the way he asks a question seems different. It’s like when Marcus asks something he’s genuinely asking, not just trying to force conversation. With every answer you give his eyes focus on yours, he nods and seems curious and excited to hear what you have to say. 

The bar is truly in hell if I’m turned on by a man who’s just treating me like a human. 

“I run a small online store for my, umm, for my designs.” This part is always awkward, men change how they treat you once they find out what you do for a living. You avoid his eyes, he’s so goddamn handsome and you’re already disappointed that he’ll soon give you an ick with how he’ll respond to your career, how all men respond. 

“Your designs? Are you an artist?” His eyes light up and he stands a little taller when he asks, he must love art. He’s going to be thrilled to find out your best friend owns a gallery, and probably even more thrilled when he learns you hurt your ankle falling off a step ladder she had you posing on as she painted you, and yes, you were completely nude. 

“No,” you laugh. “I design clothing. Sort of.” You continue avoiding his eyes and chew on the inside of your cheek as you grab some dried oregano and place it in the basket. 

“Hey,” he says softly, stopping by the spices, “You don’t have to tell me something you don’t want me to know.” 

“It’s not that. It’s just,” you stop, glancing up at his warm chocolate brown eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows, and you have the sudden urge to sink your teeth into his neck. “Men just usually treat me differently once they know.” 

He narrows his eyes at you and his lips curl into a tight lipped and curious smile. “That’s clickbait. Now you have to tell me.” 

“Or you’ll kill me?” You laugh. 

“Yes, FBI remember,” he says sarcastically. 

You take a deep breath through your nose before you begin. “Ok, I design and sell lingerie.” You try to sound as casual as possible, smiling sweetly at him before you start walking again. 

Marcus doesn’t follow along so you look over your shoulder at him. Is he blushing? 

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat and avoiding your eyes. “I don’t see how that would make someone treat you differently.” 

“Then why are you blushing, Pike?” You flutter your lashes at him as he catches up to you in the aisle. 

The pink of his cheeks deepened, “I’m not blushing. Pretty sure I got a sunburn when I grabbed the cart.” 

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard that being indoors during sunset is a very dangerous UV time.” You joke. 

He laughs, “You’d be shocked how many people don’t believe it.” 

You both laugh as you head towards the produce department for your tomatoes and onions. Elvis’s ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ comes over the speakers, and even though other people are shopping, it feels like it’s being targeted at just the two of you. You pluck a few tomatoes from the shelf and he opens the little plastic bag for you to place them in. 

He takes a breath to start speaking and you brace yourself for the inevitable. All men do it. They all either ask what your company is called so they can look up your Instagram later or they’re bold and flat out ask you to model some of your designs for them. 

“Where’d you learn to make pasta?” He asks, his voice quivering at the closeness of your body to his. 

“Umm, I sort of did an Eat, Pray, Love thing recently.” You say quietly, smiling up at him. It’s the tiniest movement, but you swear his eyes flick to your lips as your hand brushes against his while you reach into the bag. Your heart is pounding behind your ribs, it’s almost unfair how handsome he looks under these fluorescent lights. 

“Oh? Like you went to Italy?” His voice is low and nervous as he watches you picking up tomatoes, squeezing them gently and smelling them. Carefully choosing the best ones. 

“Yes. Without spilling my whole life story, I got married young and then divorced a few years ago. I just kind of needed a hard reset on myself.” You drop two more tomatoes in the bag and then side step, or more more like side hobble, to the onions. 

“Huh,” he says, “I can honestly say that I know exactly what you mean by that.” 

You both smile at each other, you swear you can see his pulse flutter in his neck before he says, “Unfortunately, I think we have everything on your list,” he finishes off his sentence by saying your name and it sends an explosion of butterflies in your lower belly. You don’t know if you’ve ever met someone who makes you feel like you have somehow known them for your whole life but is also brand new. 

“Sorry. You probably have places to be and I’m -“ Your voice trails off when he slowly steps even further into your space. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he says softly, his fingertips brushing against yours causing a buzzing up your arm. Just then ‘I knew I loved you’ by Savage Garden rains down from the speakers. Marcus laughs gently and continues, “Is it just me or has the music been interesting in here tonight?” 

You move your pointer finger just a hair so it brushes against his, “ya, sounds like the crab from The Little Mermaid is in charge.”

A laugh from his stomach passes his lips, it’s joyous and melodic and even though you’ve just met him, you want to make him laugh like that for the rest of your life. He’s smiling so big that you can see all his straight white teeth. His head tips forward slightly and the skin around his eyes crinkles. You’re both so close, he smells like mint and a new book and everything around you seems to fall away, blurring around the edges. It’s overwhelming. Dizzying even. He’s the one. You can’t explain it, but you were meant to be in this grocery, with this annoying boot and crutch. 

“That’s not quite the comparison I would have used, but yes.” His eyes dance around yours, still laced with amusement and happiness. “Is he a crab or lobster?” 

“I think he’s a crab,” you say, pulling your hand back from his to stop yourself from leaping off that cliff and into his arms.

“I think he’s a lobster,” he counters, stepping back but never breaking the connection of his eyes with yours. 

As you head towards the checkout you glance towards the shopping cart nervously, remembering that you walked here. 

Both of you pay for your groceries in a comfortable silence and he scolds you teasingly for trying to grab your bags. “Grandma is still watching.” 

The two of you head for the exit. “Did you park somewhere?” 

“No. I can take them from here,” you’re not going to let this man drive you somewhere or walk you home. That’s ridiculous. You are strong and you’ve already impeded his life enough. 

He lifts his eyebrow suspiciously and turns just a touch so you can’t reach your bags. “You walked here, didn’t you?” 

“It’s really fine, Marcus. It’s not far. Thank you for your help. You didn’t need to do that.” 

“I have an apartment that way,” he says, nodding his head in the same direction you need to go.

“Oh that’s very forward of you, but I know better than to go to a secondary location with a stranger.” And he does it again, that beautiful, happy laugh. “I’m in the same direction.” 

You walk down the quiet street. People always say they wouldn’t want to live downtown because it’s too noisy, but truthfully, after the work crowd disperses for the evening and the dinner rush parts, it’s quite peaceful. 

“How sure are you that he’s a lobster? Willing to make a bet?” 

He looks over at you cautiously. “Alright. I’ll play along. I’m 100% sure he’s a lobster. What’s the bet?” 

“Wow. Marcus Pike, does the FBI know you’re such a risk taker?” 

He says your last name and follows it with, “Quit stalling, what’s the bet.” 

“Ok ok. Once I’m off all the painkillers. If he’s a crab, I make you REAL pasta. If he’s a lobster, you take me out for real pasta.” 

You both stop at the same time in front of the same building, “This is me. So is it a bet?”

Marcus pulls a key fob out of his pocket, “This is also me. And yes, we have a bet.” 

You cross the lobby together, you select your floors and exchange phone numbers on the way up and then he finally gives you your bags. 

“Thank you,” you say, smiling at him sweetly as the elevator approaches your floor. “I appreciate you using your grandma to help me.” 

He covers his heart with his hand. “I would never!” 

As the elevator comes to a halt he glances up at you sheepishly and your heart almost breaks open right then and there at how devastatingly handsome and heart meltingly adorable he is all at the same time. 

You smile like a damn fool the moment you’re out of that elevator. Of all the ways you thought your night was going to go, it did not involve a very charming stranger making you all nervous and delusional. 

The second you get inside your apartment you fight the urge to prove yourself right and cash in on our dinner, but you already miss him, so you text him. 

Tag list:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut  @sullyrocky44 

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die [teaser]

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line »» 

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool?

The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows.

Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: est. 30k | [teaser]: ~1k

RELEASE DATE: est. May 19th, 2024 - may change

‼️PLEASE SEND AN ASK OR REPLY TO THIS POST TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST (ageless blogs WILL NOT BE ADDED)‼️

masterlist

WARNINGS [!is subject to change upon publishing of the full fic!]: slowburn, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, smut tags to be added in the full fic

[AN]: hai i am back with another monstrosity 😃 biggest thank you to @highvern for brainstorming with me and beta-ing for me, this fic would not exist without her!!!!! im super excited for this to come out, its my best work yet and i hope you all like it too!!!!

teaser under the cut!

“Did your stupid father drop you on your head as a baby?” 

Hoshi stands before you under the light of the midnight moon, an incredulous expression on his face. You try to keep the scowl off your own but it proves difficult when his voice pierces your skull. 

You ignore him from your position on the floor, “I know my father, and I know he loathes you enough to finally want you and your incompetent crew gone for good.”

He scratches his chin, “Can’t be that incompetent if he hates us so much.”

“I can help you.”

“You were ready to die than to be on the same ship as us a few hours ago. What’s changed?”

“Perspective,” you shrug in an attempt to remain nonchalant. 

“Are you gonna go back to wailing in the morning then?” 

God, this was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“You want your ship back and you were hoping for someone less important to exchange it for. But you’re stuck with me and you know it’s not going to end well for you. You need my help.” 

“Why so merciful, miss princess? Are you not on your father’s side?” 

You gulp as discreetly as possible.

“I want something in exchange.”

He raises his eyebrows, staring at you to continue. 

“I want you to kill my father.”

If his eyebrows were raised before, they’ve broken for the skies now. He leans his head back, eyes closing for a moment before reopening, reigning back to you before asking very gracefully; “What?” 

“I want you to kill my father.”

“No, I got that bit,” he snaps. “Your father as in, the King?”

“Yes, as you’ve pointed out far more times than anyone else.” You can’t help but roll your eyes despite the weight of the situation and the hammering in your chest. 

He stares at you in an expression you can’t quite read, and it unsettles you deeply. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve gravely miscalculated, watching as he moves around the mast you’re tied to. Out of the corner of your eye you see the metal glint of a dagger, and you nearly short circuit. 

Is he about to cut my hands off?

You feel a distinct tug at your wrists, the sound of slicing, and the voice in your head asking why it didn’t hurt. 

Suddenly your hands are free, intact and free as you achingly bring them in front of you, wincing audibly at the pain of moving them after so long. 

“You can jump into the water if you’d like, I won’t stop you.” He walks back over, sitting cross legged opposite you, at eye level. 

“What?”

“You’ve clearly gone mad, I’ll find another way to get my ship back.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Of course, and I utterly enjoy having a kingdom’s worth of blood on my hands. Shall I take the entirety of the court down while we’re at it?”

“Why are you acting like you’re above murder? Another part of your strange moral code?” 

“No, no, not above it at all. But I like my head and rather not have it guillotined. They might skim over the death of some too-nosy soldier but I doubt they’d leave me be after I put a bullet between the King’s eyes.”

“I’ll protect you.”

He looks at you for a moment, “Quite reassuring.” 

You sit up straighter, licking your lips as you prepare yourself. “My father isn’t a good man.”

The pirate captain snorts, “Oh, I’m well aware.”

You try not to stare too hard at the still unsheathed dagger that he digs into the floorboards, knifing out splinters in disregard. 

“My father doesn’t want me home, he wants the crown home. He wants me to be a carbon copy of himself, he wants to be in control long after he’s gone.” You try not to grind your teeth too hard but it’s difficult when your father’s face burns behind your eyelids. “I want control over the throne, full control.”

“And your conclusion is to eliminate him.”

“I don’t have another choice.”

“Then what? You’ll pardon me and my crew after we get our hands dirty for you?” he asks, eyes wide in mock hope. 

“Yes. You can do whatever it is that you sail about doing and no one will be of bother. I might ask you for sparing favours. For a wage of course. But other than that, you can live as lawlessly as you wish.”

“You’re asking me to become your personal lackey?”

“Having a queen’s favour is no small feat I hope you’re aware. Besides, it's a leap better than the hoops you’ve been jumping through during my father’s reign.” 

You realised his face had been shrouded by the dark between your negotiating and the clouds that had veiled the moon. Every moment that was supposed to strengthen your understanding of the man that sat across from you only brought you more confusion. 

“You want your ship and freedom of land and sea,” you continue when it’s silent for a beat too long. “I only ask for a small favour in return.”

“I’d argue the miniscule nature of what you’re asking from me,” he scoffs.

“Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line.” 

There crawls in the silence once again, the same one that seems to grab you by the throat for every moment that ticks past undisturbed. 

“We’ll have to see to that,” he says, huffing as he gets back on his boot clad feet. You follow him with your eyes as he walks towards the creaky stairs that lead to the lower deck, utterly confused. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, bewildered at his strange behaviour. 

Turning around, just as he had a mere day ago in your quarters and you feel yourself suppressing a shudder. “I have a crew to consult.”

So he was considering it. 

“But you’re the captain.”

“And?”

[chilumi-shipper]

My Favorite Girl (2)

Arataki Itto x Shrine Maiden!Fem!Reader

Summary: Part 2 of My Favorite Girl, you unexpectedly return, missing everything and everybody. You want to make things clear, does he still love you? And do you still love him?

Tags: Two lines with curses, Bullying in work place, Angst to Fluff

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Itto remained seated by the docks, similar to how his days ended the past month. The burning ache of your departure never left him, in fact, it has only gotten worse, your lack of presence making itself known to him and a certain mini-sized bull.

Two months.

You've been gone two months, double the time you said you were gonna spend on Watatsumi Island. All his prayers to see a boat containing you had been ignored, much like the letters he sent to you while you were gone.

"Hey, babe! How's the job treating you?"

"I know you'll ace this job like you always do! What is it that Shrine Maidens do specifically that they have to switch locations? Well anyway, you'll do so good, you probably won't even need a full month to finish the job."

"Looooveee, don't let Ushi warm your side of the bed for too long, okay? His sleep moos are kinda annoying, ya know? Ohh, crap! He caught me writing you a letter!" This particular letter had a bite mark and a hoof print of the sleep moo-er.

"So... I don't know how to start this up without sounding like a total jerk, but... Well, first I wanna say happy birthday! Very very late happy birthday..." This letter was quite long, yet it received no reaction.

"You haven't returned any of my letters yet, which is totally okay if you're too busy! But I just wanna know if you're okay... I really miss you, Ushi misses you, the gang too! It been a little bit over a month, waiting for you~ I love youu." This letter was signed by each member of the Arataki Gang, each with their own little message.

A few letters of concern goes by, no response.

"It's been two months, my darling... When are you coming back home?" He wrote this one drunk and in tears, the feeling of missing you sinking deeper and deeper into his gut, not letting him shrug off the feeling like he did before.

"Boss! Look what I found in your mail!" The loud shout of Akira irritated the many people at the docks of Ritou, but it did its job of catching the oni's attention.

Itto turned to see the gang running up yo him. "Hey! You can't just go through my mail like that! What if you accidentally open ones for Y/N? She'd kill ya!"

"Yeah, I know, boss. But I actually got this from the mail delivery before it reached your house, sooo... this isn't your mail yet..." Akira remarked, proudly showing off his loophole.

Kuki Shinobu rolled her eyes before urging him, "Go on then, show him."

The Akira, Mamoru, and Genta excitedly showed Itto the letter in Akira's hands. "From Miss Y/N herself! Ohhh, is our Honorary Maiden about to return? We must rejoice!" Genta exclaimed, hyping up the other members too. Ushi himself couldn't keep his little body from jumping in joy.

"Looks like we don't have to go to Watatsumi for a grand Arataki rescue mission."

"Yeah, hmmm... I was kinda excited about that though."

"Now, hold on..." Shinobu broke their thrilled conversation. "We haven't even read the letter."

"Shinobu's right. Maybe... she just wants to say there's nothing to worry about, and she'll be staying there longer..." The hopeless voice coming from the oni, perhaps preparing for dissapointment, didn't go unnoticed. The gang noticed the change in attitude their leader has been having a few weeks after you left, getting worse with each passing day without you.

"Aww, boss, don't be like that! I'm sure Miss Y/N's had enough of Watatsumi now, she's probably preparing to head home right now." Mamoru attempted to comfort his boss, but Itto has told himself the same so many times that he feels like he can no longer hold the statement in a high regard.

Ushi softly pushed Itto's ankle with his hoof, urging him to open the letter.

"I apologize, my dear. This letter may be long overdue, but I want to let you know that I am doing just fine, there is nothing to worry about. I will be returning in just a short while, I trust that Ushi has kept my side of the bed warm for me, hehehe. To the Arataki Gang, I missed you all as well, I look forward to seeing you. And as for my beloved, Itto, let's talk once I'm there."

"She's really coming back home!" Everyone celebrated, but Itto's mind started spinning.

The most terrifying words... "Let's talk..." without a hint of emotion.

He looked at the letter once again...

Not even an I love you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Itto didn't expect the "returning in just a short while" to be just a few hours after he received the letter.

But when he found the door of your shared home open, you were standing visibly inside with your luggage laying on the ground, he could only stand in shock.

He has been dreaming of your return for the past month, but he hasn't exactly thought about how he was gonna greet you, he wasn't even sure whether you were still upset about how he treated you then.

"Y/N..." He whispered the name of the love of his life into the air, being loud enough to just about graze your ears.

You turned to look at him, and immediately, your heart fluttered at the sight. The ever so idiotically dashing man you think is still yours. Your heart sunk at the thought, opting to smile at him instead.

"Itto... Am I still welcome here?" There's a pain constantly in your chest when you think of him. Is his home still your home? Have you been thoroughly replaced? Did you absence spark something between him and a certain ninja you know?

"What are you-" The oni started of confused. "Of course you're welcome here! This is your home, did you think Ushi clamed your ownership entirely? He only took up the bed, but that's it, really." You giggled at his remark, finding it easy to talk to him still.

"It's just that you probably didn't expect me to come back now. My letter was pretty late, as I've heard." You reasoned as you look around, seeing that practically nothing has changed from when you left.

"Well, you wanted to talk, so let's save that for later, why don't we?" Itto picked up all of your luggage, reminding you of his pride of not making two trips just to transport something, prompting you to smile as you nodded at his suggestion.

Your smile lit up the house he found so lonely while you were gone, so naturally, he noticed you smiling at him, and it brought a light feeling to his heart. "What? Missed your strong oni carrying everything for you?"

Your oni... Is he really?

Your smile faded a bit, but you made sure to catch yourself so he wouldn't notice, "Yeahh, I really did..."

...

"So you're the maiden from Narukami right? The one in love with an oni?" You caught the condecending tone of another Shrine Maiden as she spoke to you.

You decided to ignore the way she spoke to you. "Yes, that's right! How can I be of assistance?"

"Mind throwing this to the garbage, just some useless junk mail." She placed a sizable amount of crumbled and shredded paper onto your hands. "Thanks." After giving you the most ungrateful thanks, she walked away giggling with her friend.

You merely sighed, heading for the trash can, pouring the paper in the bin. Just as you were about to walk away, you noticed something on the paper... Ushi's signiture hoof print.

With a gasp, you grabbed it and read the letter that was at such a sorry state. The letter was light hearted, yet when you read it, you almost broke down right next to the garbage. You scooped up the rest of the paper you just threw away and hurriedly ran back to your quarters. Most of the letters are in pieces, but you still needed to see what they say.

After two months in Watatsumi, you only received their letters then.

...

You're finally back home, the suffocating air the Watatsumi Shrine Maidens breathe no longer in your lungs. You took another look of the house as Itto carried your things into your shared room.

In a tired manner, you sat down on the couch, and Ushi immediately took a seat next to you. "Hello, my little bull..." You cooed affectionately, patting his head, which he all responded to positively.

Everything is where it should be... so normal and so familiar.

"Darling! I have a surprise for you! I almost forgot since, ya know, you came unex-" Itto's excited voice and enthusiastic movements halted when he saw you sitting down on the couch. "Y/N...?"

Your head was down, small sobs came from your throat, and he can tell that you're trying yo hold them in. You curled up into a ball, sobs getting louader as you can no longer hold such a pain in your heart.

"Itto, please... I need you..." At your call, the oni dropped his gift to the ground and hurried to your side before pulling you to his chest. "Let me stay here..."

"Love, it's okay... I'm right here. And you can stay right here too." He kissed the top of your head, rubbing you shoulder to calm you down.

"Don't leave me all alone. Do-Don't forget about me..." You were begging, clinging onto him. Hoping he wouldn't walk out the door without a thought.

You wrapped your arms around him, sitting on his lap before burrying your face on his neck. The concerned oni didn't completely understand, but he understood that you needed him, so he's going to be there, he isn't leaving you alone in your home this time.

...

"Feeling better?" With a grin, Itto placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. The sight of you nodding left him feeling relieved.

"I'm right here, darling, alright?"

"Do you still love me?" The oni was shocked by the suddenness of your question. You looked at him, expecting an answer.

After composing himself, Itto stood in front of you at the dinner table, giving you the same look. "I fucking love you too much for you to start questioning my love."

"But you gave me a reason to... question it..." You pointed out sheepishly.

The man you love sighed, "I know, and I'm hoping... if you let me, I can make up for that..." He then proceeded to place a gift in front of you, right next to the hot chocolate.

"My very very late birthday present?" You gestured at the gift with a smile.

You felt in your heart that... you should trust his words, to let him prove his love. So you will.

"So you did receive my letters..." He teased right back.

"It's a long story..." You sighed, looking at the present in front of you.

"And I'll be hapy to hear it, love. Because I will always be here." Itto walked up to you and proceeded to wipe the lone tear that fell from your eye.

You stood up and jumped at him, hugging him immediately. "I'm really sorry, Itto... I shouldn't have left."

Tears yet again fell to your cheeks, "But when you forgot about my birthday, about our special day... about me..." You recalled the many nights you spent without him by your side.

"It made me... questionn your love..."

The love of your life hugged you back, letting you lean on his chest. "Then let me ask you now... Do you still love me?"

You chuckled against him.

"I fucking love you too much for you to start questioning my love." He couldn't help but let out the biggest grin when you said that.

The oni let go of you, before bringing the gift to your attention. "Since you love me so much, you'll let me take you out on a date and wear this, right?"

As he opened the box, you saw a necklace with a pendant that in a shape of a bull... he knows you too well. Yes, this is the beautiful jade necklace, it is made out of jade, soooo...

You hear a moo at the your feet, making you look down. "Oh, and here comes Ushi." Itto bantered with the idea of him and the bull being competitors for your love.

Ushi presented to you a wilting flower, along with the purest eyes you can see on a bull.

"Ohh, my sweet darling, thank you so much!"

Itto scoffed, "He literally plucked it out of the neighbor's garden, he almost cried when he was being shouted at."

"Ahh, Ushi has faced such a great trial for this flower, I appreciate it even more."

As the two compete for your love just like old times, the hot chocolate on the table goes cold.

...

"Uh, Shinobu..." The boat of the rest of the Arataki Gang docked at Watasumi Island. "What are we doing here again?" Mamoru questioned the green haired girl.

"Apparently, there's a problem about receiving mail in the Sangonomiya Shrine, and that's why Miss Y/N took so long to get back home." Kuki Shinobu clarified. "Miss Yae asked us to take care of it. Think of this as part of the rescue mission you were talking about."

"Yeahh, alright! Let's kick some mail troblemakers butts!" Akira exclaimed.

"Yep, that's exactly what Miss Yae asked for. This is probably the only Shrine Maiden related thing I like, except for Miss Y/N, of course."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

After a year with no update...

I was done with a lot of things on my plate (thankfully) so I thought, why not pick up an old project :3

Thanks so much for everyone's patience, for waiting for part 2 of this story for such a long time, I appreciate you guys (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Tags: @l0diluvs @iiyumii @lockem @t4m3-simp @eliciana @freezombielover

[a-random-weeb]

Hello! Can I request yandere chuuya with a fem reader he accidentally broke and now he’s trying so hard to un break her by letting her go outside and go shopping but little does he know she’s Been normal the whole time and it was all just an act so she tries escaping by chuuya catches her?

omg yes I love this idea. Tysm for the oneshot prompt btw!

Ok, this is kind of cringe but I had a lot of fun writing so fuck it

I hope you like it as much as I do

Warnings: Yandere, physical abuse, mentions of isolation, slight nsfw mention. I wanted to make it fluffy at the end, so you can read the end if you want or settle for when he beats you. let me know if I missed anything

Disclaimer: this fic is not romantisising Yandere behavior, it is fanfiction. If any of this is happening in real life, seek help, it's not romantic even if it's great in fanfiction.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

He didn't mean for this. He didn't mean for the punishment to go THAT far, and he certainly didn't mean to break you. Yet here you were, after all that screaming and crying you held an emotionless look on you're face, and he hated it.

He drags you outside, normally you're not allowed out of your room unless he's by your side, then you can wander the house, but you haven't been outside the penthouse for the last year! You were excited, but you had to maintain the façode of being broken.

When Chuuya sees that nothing has changed about the look on your face a wave of sadness washes over him. He missed how cheerful you used to be, how you would giggle over every dumb thing he did, how you were always so positive. Sure, sometimes his punishments were a little harsh, but you had a lot of fun together too! He racks his brain for anything he could do to get you back to your old self, then he comes up with what he hopes to be a good idea. He should take you shopping, girls like shopping don't they? Well he'll have to hope.

You both arrive at the mall, a fun place to spend your life savings. Lucky for you, Chuuya was rich, so you could spend as much as you wanted! The relief in Chuuyas eyes at the slight excitement in yours was adorable. Though, that excitement is gone as quick as it came, leaving him disappointed.

You almost slipped up! You were too excited at the thought of running around shopping you almost let your gaurd down! You desperately hope he didn't notice. As much as you would love to spend his money, running around like a little kid, but unfortunately (and fortunately) it was the perfect time to escape. You slip into the crowd while in the food court the second he looks away. Running to the nearest exit, strategically avoiding his gaze.

You guess you didn't do well enough, because when you bolt outside, you feel two strong arms wrap around you from behind. You look up in horror to see an angry chihuahua Chuuya glaring daggers at you, but... There is also a look of hurt in his eyes

"Why the hell did you try to escape huh?! To hurt me by pretending to be broken, only to hurt me more after I allowed you outside!! It'll be a long time before you ever go outside again. We're going home. Now." He tightly grabs your wrist, not caring about the amount of pain he's causing you, or how much you beg for him to forgive you. He throws you in the backseat of his car, slamming the door before driving the two of you home.

The night is certainly a long one, he's very rough despite you crying and begging, throwing you in the floor of the bedroom, fucking you and beating you til you pass out.

The next morning he felt bad about actions that night, and feels you've had enough punishment, so he'll cuddle you and pamper you. You get breakfast in bed and nothing but cuddles, apologies and words of praise, though, he still believes you deserved what came to you last night. He know you probably won't try to escape again after the hell he put you through, and even though he feels bad, he does not regret it...

[its-time-to-write]

I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.

I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.

Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.

I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!

let’s fall in love for the night  

Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet. 

“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee. 

“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”  

You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”

Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”

“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”

Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says. 

She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants. 

“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard. 

Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”

“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”

Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”

You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”

“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone. 

“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”

“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out. 

“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”

Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table. 

—

All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad. 

“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says. 

You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod. 

“Great job, Phoebs,” you say. 

Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says. 

“Brill,” says Jamie. 

“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket. 

Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale. 

You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”

You pinch him again. 

“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”

He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.

“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out. 

Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red. 

“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question. 

“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him. 

“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad. 

“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”

“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”

You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’” 

“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”

“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”

You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house. 

“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”

You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”

Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”

You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs. 

“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”

“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.

—

Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly. 

You find him sitting under the tree. 

“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”

He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt. 

“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks. 

“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”

Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his. 

“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”

“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion. 

“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”

That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him. 

“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”

“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”

You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”

Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”

Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”

You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”

—

It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding. 

It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here. 

For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.  

(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)

Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side. 

“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”

“It’s my house too,” you remind him. 

Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

All in all, it was pretty great. 

Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe. 

“I have a matching one at home,” she explains. 

But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family. 

“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.

“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks. 

Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”

You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca. 

“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”

Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”

“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.

“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly. 

Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles. 

“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”

Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.  

“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.

“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy. 

They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling. 

They might know this from personal experience. 

Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”

Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing. 

So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”

Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you. 

Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings. 

Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum

He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once. 

[bluejay757]

Lets talk about Simon and Betty

spoilers for episode 8

So a lot of people are throwing around some strong accusations about their relationship, some I can see where they're coming from, and a lot are really reaching.

As for the ones that I think are reaching, a lot of people are saying that Simon and Betty were a professor/student dynamic, except they weren't. Simon wasn't teaching a class he was a guest lecturer, and Betty, having read his work was interested. She was excited to meet him because she liked his research. Simon was constantly mocked in his field, if you actually read the newspaper clippings from "I remember you" you'll see that even after he found the enchiridion, he was made fun of. People were literally laughing at him and throwing things at him while he was giving his lecture. Betty likely was mocked too, it makes sense she was so excited to meet him, because this was her chance to meet one of the few people that actually shared her interest. She did not yet have a crush on him at that point in time.

I think after she got to know Simon on a personal level her fascination of him changed, as she no longer viewed him as a "celebrity" (I use that term loosely for a lack of a better word, I can't imagine his books sold that many copies, what with him being a laughing stock and him being genuinely surprised that Betty had read his work), but rather a colleague and equal. She even said that after their trip together she had grown to admire him as a person, so it's not like she had any kind of feelings for him prior to that. Now that's not to say her feelings towards him were completely normal, but there definitely wasn't a power imbalance between them.

A lot of people are saying Simon was selfish for making her stay behind, but he didn't make her. She chose to stay behind. She could have still gone on that trip, and continued to write to him and talk to him on the phone, but she chose to stay with him and go on different adventures. You're forgetting that Simon and Betty went on expeditions together all the time, it's not like she gave up her career for him, that would be a whole different story, but she made the decision to continue working in her field alongside him.

Also Simon couldn't have gone on that trip if he did want to because he wasn't offered to go, who ever it was that gave Betty that opportunity, wasn't anticipating on her bringing a friend, he also didn't have anything with him but like his wallet and keys you can't seriously expect him to go to another country with no luggage, no plane ticket, no money, no nothing. A whole part of Fionna's character arc is realizing that life's not a fairy tale, she was expecting something out of a romance novel and got a story straight from reality. Realistically the two options were for Betty to stay or to leave Simon. And I don't think her giving up her trip to Australia was a sacrifice, because there were other trips and opportunities after that, she traded that one trip for an entire lifetime of them, (or at least it would have been if war didn't break out)

And if you're gonna call Betty impulsive, call her impulsive because she went on a trip around the world with a man she had never met, not because she walked through a creek barefoot lmfao.

I'm not saying that Simon and Betty were perfect but there are other reasons to criticize them.

As for the actual problems with there relationship, none of them are their fault. Betty going literally crazy trying to bring Simon back was because of Magic Man and Patience fucking with her brain, a human being cannot handle the amount of magic she was given and it drove her to insanity. And Simon now, with risking everything to bring her back, she's literally fused with a chaos god and is going to live for eternity in that state, did you ever think maybe he wants to get her out of that for her sake? That maybe he wants closure and to say goodbye? Since he never got that chance. No it's not healthy for Simon to drive himself as far as he did to bring her back, but Jesus fucking Christ can you blame him for not wanting his fiance to suffer for literal eternity? They don't need to break up, they need therapy. I don't think their relationship pre-mushroom war was unhealthy, and I don't think it ever would have been unhealthy without Betty becoming Magic Betty.

Their relationship flaws are more so their own individual flaws that have bled into their relationship as opposed to ones caused by the relationship itself, that's an important distinction you have to see.

[cringe-but-proud]

Hello! I noticed that your requests are open.

I was wondering if I could request a (2023) Wonka x Fem! Reader where she’s a writer who had/has been writing about the happenings with the startup of Willy’s chocolate shop, and writes about chocolate but has yet to find a chocolate she really likes so Willy makes it his mission to create something perfect for her, which leads to the two of them falling in love?

No pressure if you can’t! Have a great day!

Yea

Willy Wonka x Fem! Interviewer!Reader (Wonka 2023)

A/n: Just wanna say thanks for all the support! I was really nervous about posting my writing, but y'all have been nothing but supportive 😽 My requests are open (see pinned post for info) feel free to request any character 😛

After the sudden success of Wonka's chocolate and the downfall of the chocolate cartel, there were a lot of publishers around wanting to get the story of exactly how this all occured.

Willy was getting a lot of requests for one on one interviews from a lot of different people. But, he decided to do one with the only interviewer he'd met before.

Y/n.

She'd talked to him before all of his success, back when he was still hiding from the chocolate cartel and having to do his business in secret.

She was one of the few people who had taken him seriously while also not seeing him as a threat.

He was a bit excited to get to see her again.

The interview was happening in the part of his factory that was considered his office (he didn't like that title, because it sounded "too serious"). When Y/n arrived for the interview Willy sat right next to her.

"Thanks for letting me talk with you." She started. "I can imagine you've gotten a lot of offers from different publishers to talk about everything that's been happening lately."

Willy nodded. "There have. But, I wanted to see you." He replied, offering her a soft smile.

"Oh?" She tilted her head. "Is there a reason for that?"

"For wanting to see you? Of course there is. It's because I already know who great you are at this." He stated. "After the last time we talked, Noodle read me the part of the paper that our interview was in."

"Noodle?"

"Oh, Noodle's sort of like my business partner. The brains of the operation."

She nodded. "Could you tell me more about that?"

"Absolutely."

Willy went on talking about Noodle, how she'd helped him, the adventures they'd gone on, and how close they'd gotten. Y/n continued asking questions, Willy gave adequate answers, and eventually, Y/n closed the notebook she was writing in with a satisfied nod.

"I think that'll be enough for now." She said. "Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes, actually." Willy leaned forward in his seat. "I wanted to ask you a few questions."

She blinked. "Oh?"

"I feel like you know a lot about me, but I don't know anything about you." He explains. "And I think I'd like to learn about you."

She was a bit flattered by that and gave him a faint smile. "Alright... Feel free to ask me your questions."

"Why'd you become an interviewer?" He asked.

"I think everyone's story is worth telling." She began. "And what better way is there to learn about someone's story than by asking them directly?"

Willy liked that answer. "How long have you been an interviewer?"

She thought for a moment. "The first time I interviewed someone was for a school project when I was 15. So, technically... 7 years."

He liked doing this. He liked learning about her. Maybe he just liked talking to her.

"What's your favorite chocolate?" He asked.

"I don't have one."

"What?!" His eyes widened. "Everyone has a favorite chocolate!"

She shrugged. "I don't."

"Do you not like chocolate?"

"It's not that I don't like it. I've just never tried a chocolate that stuck out to me."

Willy couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could someone not have a favorite chocolate?! "Well, we've gotta change that." He said as he got out of his seat.

"Wha-"

"Follow me!" He took her hand and began leading her down the halls of his factory.

She was about to protest, but she realized she didn't have anywhere she needed to be. And why would she pass up the opportunity to spend more time with a guy who was this cute?

He led her through the factory, stopping in different rooms to let her try the many variations of chocolate he'd made. And each time she said the same thing.

"It's good."

He was glad she didn't hate anything he'd given her, but he wanted to impress her! He didn't know why he wanted to impress her so badly, he just knew this was something he needed to do.

After several more attempts at wowing her, Willy sighed, feeling a bit defeated.

"Well, Y/n..." He said. "I guess you really don't have a favorite chocolate..."

Oh god, now she felt bad. She thought for a moment before speaking again. "Y'know, now that I'm thinking about it," She said. "I really liked the third one that you let me try."

His eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think that one's your favorite?"

"Definitely."

He beamed. "That's great! That's amazing! I'm so glad you found one you liked!"

Y/n smiled at his excitement. Truthfully, she couldn't even remember what the third chocolate she'd eaten was. But, if saying it was her favorite made Willy this happy, then it was definitely her favorite.

She finally left the factory, surprised to see that the sun was starting to go down which meant she'd probably spent a good 4 hours with Willy. She'd barely gotten 2 steps down the street when she was stopped.

"Wait!" She turned to see Willy running toward her holding a jar of... Something. He stopped in front of her and caught his breath for a moment before handing her the jar. "This is for you."

Y/n looked at Willy, at the jar, and then back at Willy. "Why?"

"Because it's your favorite." He smiled at her.

"Oh!" He was giving her a gift. That made sense. "Right. I knew that. Thank you."

"It's no problem. We should... Talk again soon." Willy suggested.

"For another interview?"

"Just to talk with each other." He smiled at her. "I think you're fun to talk to."

"Oh." A blush creeped on to her cheeks at that. "I'd like that."

His smile widened. "Great! I'll be looking forward to it." He began to step backwards toward his factory. "Till next time, Y/n."

Y/n gave him a small wave goodbye before finally continuing to walk away.

A couple minutes into her walk she opened the jar he'd given her and popped one of the chocolates into her mouth.

Maybe this one really was her favorite.

[nunalastor]

The official hoof art and the beach art you reblogged has me daydreaming about a beach episode.

Not sure if the Pride Ring has an ocean, but Lucifer has canonically made a wildly popular theme park called Lu Lu World, so maybe he's made some water parks or (artificial) beach resorts too. So maybe after the construction of the new hotel's completed and Alastor's returned to the group, he decides to take his daughter and her new family to one of his water parks for some fun and relaxation after a really harrowing experience.

They get there and everyone's prepared to have fun, Charlie and Vaggie are cooing over how pretty/cute the other looks in their swimsuits, Angel definitely chose something racy and he's playfully flirting with Husk, and Husk carrying the cooler full of beers and rolling his eyes at Angel but has a knowing smile. Cherri Bomb joined in as well and is hyped to go surfing for the first time since she died and offers to teach Niffty who giggling like an embarrassed schoolgirl by the amount of skin on display. Lucifer's excited to show off his waterpark to Charlie and her friends and he closes it to the public for the day so that they can have it all to themselves. They get there and everyone is eager to jump into the water. Everyone except Alastor, who takes a seat in the shade and decides to read while everyone else is playing. He doesn't even take off his Hawaiian shirt.

Angel Dust teases Alastor for being a stick in the mud which just gets him grabbed by an underwater tentacle. Alastor has a laugh at Angel's terrified screams, but doesn't do anything more than scare him. Angel Dust decides he's gonna mess with Alastor in turn, so he gets everyone together and proposes a game; try to get Alastor's shirt off.

No it's not just 'cause he wants to see Alastor shirtless, shut up Husk.

It takes some cajoling, but eventually Angel's able to get everyone on board with the game. Mostly everyone. What follows is a series of Looney Toons style antics involving badly faked accidental tripping, booby traps, and at one point a giant fan. But whether through bad luck or Alastor's preternatural senses, he manages to dodge each and every attempt. Up until the very last moment when Niffty actually does trip for real and covers his shirt in fruit punch. Alastor's annoyed but he doesn't get mad at Niffty. He just goes to the changing room to clean up away from the prying eyes of the weirdos he's found himself in the unfortunate company of.

Lucifer feels kind of bad, realizing they may have crossed a line or three. So after Alastor's been gone a while, he grabs a towel and his spare shirt and follows Alastor to the changing room to offer him a hand.

But when he walks in he's stunned to find Alastor shirtless, running his shirt under the faucet. Nearly every inch of Alastor's torso is covered in horrible, rough looking scars. The moment Alastor notices Lucifer staring at him in the mirror he goes full demon, antlers elongating, bones popping out of place, and roars at Lucifer to get out. Lucifer isn't scared of Alastor exactly, but his heart is pounding nonetheless as he runs out of the changing room.

(No idea if Alastor's scars are still canon - or if they ever were canon - but god I hope they are.)

When Alastor eventually steps out of the changing room, back to his normal form, dressed, slightly damp, Lucifer is waiting outside for him. Lucifer starts to stammer out an awkward apology for barging in when he knew Alastor was changing, but Alastor cuts him off. With a perfectly pleasant smile that is at odds with the icy look in his eyes, he simply says, 'let's keep this bit of unpleasantness to ourselves, shall we?' and leaves to rejoin the group.

Since Alastor's determined to act like nothing happened, Lucifer goes along with it. Still, he can't quite shake the image out of his head.

(I don't think the scars are canon but who gaf about canon tbh.)

[blorbosinmyheadcentral]

your art makes me explode in a positive way like

im chewing and swallowing it in an aggressive way like

it's just SO good im melting ilove your shading and KEHEKEBEKJDJF

anwayshi hello do you happen to have any headcanons for showtime rolls on the floor and dies

Thank you so much, really appreciate it!

Oh God I don't know if this will read as coherent because my thoughts about Showtime are all over the place. But I'll try to format this the best I can

✨Showtime HCs! ✨

Their relationship starts when they start spending time together.

(The reason why they do so could vary. In Supervised Machine Learning's case, Pomni becomes something of a "tutor" to Caine; They discover that they work well together, and the other's company can be quite pleasant!).

So Pomni and Caine build a weird, but comforting friendship, and all is well.

Then the feelings appear.

Caine is the first to realize he fell in love.

It sounds illogical but hear me out… it'd be really funny--

Ok no seriously I think Caine can actually feel. Keyword "can". He's very much still a machine and it shows in the pilot. But like his inspiration (AM), Caine is also a rogue AI. Whatever his programming originally intended him to do, he probably doesn't follow it as closely now as back when he was created (which is a whole other post).

Caine knows what love is and the extend it can go, since the Moon is so open about her feelings. He just doesn't like the Moon back specifically haha (sorry Moon) :}

All this to say, I do believe this is within the realm of possibility for him. (Not that it's ever gonna happen towards anyone in the show. These are just wishful shippy thoughts).

He might not recognize it as love at first, because it manifests in such a different way from his one reference point.

His friendship with Pomni had gone through phases.

When they first met, he continuously touched her with no concern for how she felt.

Learning from and about Pomni herself led him to come to respect her boundaries (and becoming mindful of everyone else's).

Then they're close friends, and gradually, Pomni does not mind his regular wacky, touchy-feely self. So Caine acts as he had always done before.

Caine expresses his love for Pomni with physical gestures and his undivided attention.

When they teleport to travel to other places, he holds her close so she doesn't get too dizzy; he pats her head to reassure her; he touches her arm to get her attention; he grabs her hands when he's excited about her ideas; he holds eye contact for prolonged periods of time; and he touches, and touches, and touches, and touches.

It's selfish, and so he keeps it buried in his deepest 0's and 1's. But he'd like to keep hanging out with Pomni, having her in his sight, and feel the texture of her gloved hands until the end of time.

Despite all this, to him, virtually nothing changed.

What? He's spending time with Pomni as he'd always been doing, and behaving as he'd always behaved!

It's Bubble of all people that has to point out that, "Hey boss. I think you WANT her!"

Absurd. Nonsense. Preposterous! It is merely a relationship of mutual support and affection between a ringmaster and his trusted, former-human companion. Nothing more.

(Declaring his love to her unprompted didn't ever cross his mind, so there's no way it could be that. Is there?)

Caine finds out that yes, there is.

Pomni had always been a nervous wreck, but her mind state becomes more manageable over time. She eventually adjusts to the circus life like everyone else did.

"Accepting" her fate is a different story. The will to escape, to remember, never really leaves. She's just more careful about it.

So when she starts working with Caine - to improve life so people don't go abstracting anymore, and hopefully find a definitive exit - she's not expecting to end up liking her time with him.

Not that she'd absolutely hate it, either. He's… "okay"… Just-- outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space, he keeps touching her, and it makes her die a little every time.

If he's up to listening, though… it can't be that bad, right?

Turns out that no, it wasn't that bad.

Yes, he is outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space and touching her. But she explains what she means to him, clearly and patiently, and he makes an effort to do better. An actual effort.

Sometimes he'd misinterpret what she meant - the ambiguity of human language - and the new games would go horribly. But little by little, his efforts make life overall better. Something reminiscent of actual, real life, the one they've all forcibly left behind.

And he tries, and he tries, and Pomni finds herself enjoying the process as much as the good results.

Pomni likes Caine's eagerness to learn. His enthusiastic attitude borders on silly, and the absurdity makes her laugh on occasion. When faced with the prospect of a "real" exit, she loves his upbeat optimism.

When she's not hanging out with Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Zooble and Kinger, she begins to enjoy spending quality time with Caine.

Each one of their hang outs is a new surprise. They make a picnic in the tallest mountain exactly in between day and night. They learn to dance - while floating in the air. "Since you asked, here's a DIGITAL camera! Let's take pictures of the Void for one tenth of a second at a time!"

Sometimes he just comes by Pomni's room, and they end up losing track of time. Just chatting about how things have been, what they could be, and what to do next. Ideas and ideas and ideas.

Before Pomni knows it, she's comfortable enough that recalling his old habits makes her not dread them anymore. So when Caine stands close and lightly touches her arm due to oversight, she makes sure he knows it's all right.

And they keep spending time together, and he touches, and touches, and touches her. Pomni, in turn, feels lighter, and lighter, and lighter. Peaceful, at ease. Dare she say, happy, even.

Life is not perfect. As it stands though, it's good enough. No one has abstracted. No one is at risk of abstracting so far.

Progress is slow, but the research for an exit continues, and she is hopeful. The thought of actually leaving grows closer to reality. But a part of her feels heavy.

When it occurs to Pomni that leaving the Amazing Digital Circus means leaving Caine behind, she is alarmed by how much she'll miss him.

It'll hurt. Badly. So much the thought pains her even now.

The moment Pomni realizes this, she comes to the unexpected conclusion that she may like Caine a little more than she thought she would.

This later leads to an interesting discussion with Ragatha.

By the time Pomni comes to that conclusion, Caine is already down bad.

Neither has any idea that the other is in love with them.

Cue dumbasses trying to deal with their feelings while the potential conflict the escape brings looms over their heads.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!