#he’s hollering bloody hell

[simpfornegan]

since i’m riding the mpreg train heavily atm, do you guys think pre-temp v butcher, pregnant with homelander’s kid, would/could inherit some of the little demon spawn’s powers in the womb?🤔

[toothfa-1-ry]

DOYOUWANTTOGOTOTHEBALLWITHME? draco malfoy

In which,

Draco just can't seem to ask you to be his date for the Yule ball

GENRE: fluff

PAIRING: 4th yr Draco x 4th year reader

FEAT: lee do hyun as Terry Booth!!

WARNING: none :>

A/N: A continuation of my Draco Malfoy is a loser agenda!! Also did I mention that Draco is a very DRAMATIC loser??

"uhm hi y/n" Draco said nervously as he turned to look at Pansy and Blaise who gave him a reassuring nod and a thumbs up

"ooh hi Draco"

"uhm so..y/n" Draco nervously chuckled as he played his his hand cuffs "uh..y/n haha.."

"Draco-" Pansy hissed "you already said her name, there's no need to repeat it again"

"right- sorry. Uhm so y/n!"

"oh god he's a lost cause" Blaise muttered to Pansy who just shook her head.

"I can hear you, just in case you didn't know" Draco angrily muttered towards them, shooting them both a dirty look

"uhm are you talking to y/n or are you talking to us?" Blaise questioned, his eyebrows raised

"oh bloody hell" Draco sweared "uhm anyway y/n uh so like I'm pretty sure you heard the announcement today- during breakfast because like you have ears uh I have ears too! So I heard the announcement too- ha" Draco awkwardly continued.

"ofcourse she has ears dunderhead and ofcourse she heard it! Everyone heard the announcement" piped Lorenzo from a corner "just try to charm her won't you?"

Theodore shook his head in amusement as he watched his best mate Draco act like a complete fool. Actually he always acted like a fool except most of the time he didn't make it this obvious.

"right- right my bad my bad" Draco shook his head "so! Y/n!"

"yes Draco? What is the matter?"

"I thought you could do the er honour of er taking me to the Yule ball y'know" Draco smirked as he attempted to charm you like Lorenzo said

"I mean cause like I could go with anyone but I thought that I'd give you the first chance of going with me!" Draco quickly rambled and then flicked his hair "so what do you say?"

Theodore and Lorenzo tried holding in their laughter as Pansy groaned and Blaise muttered curses under his breath.

"oh bloody hell" Matteo mumbled

"mate that was horrible and I'm not even y/n! I'm just pretending to be her!" Matteo exclaimed as he took of the wig he was wearing

"if your gonna be this bad with me pretending to be y/n, how are you actually gonna face her!?" Matteo shook his head and turned to Pansy "he's totally lost!"

"it wasnt that bad was it?" Draco cringed at himself.

Oh he knew how bad it was

"it was HORRIBLE" all his friends shouted at him, especially Matteo who was honestly tired of wearing the wig and pretending to be you for the 9th time now.

"c'mon mate! This is the 9th time I'm pretending to be y/n. Just ask her out NORMALLY PLEASE" Matteo shouted

"oh shut up okay! I'm trying" Draco hissed his face turning pink

"well try harder" Theodore said from a corner "if you don't ask her out soon, someone else will"

"what?" Draco whisper shouted "you mean- there's a chance that she'll go to the Yule ball with someone else whose not me?"

Theodore rolled his eyes at his blonde friend, "incase you haven't noticed, many guys in Hogwarts likes her. And now you have double the competition with Durmstang and Beuxbaton"

Draco went pink in the face again "oh fuck"

"yup!" Lorenzo patted his cousin in the shoulder "so you better hurry up cuz!" He cheerily said as if Draco wasn't going through a mini panick attack

"ugh whatever!" Pansy groaned "you! Get your act together" she pointed at Draco "we're gonna practice this one more time! Matteo wear the wig"

Matteo grumbled as he begrudgingly wore the wig " on merlins beard why do I have to pretend to be y/n"

"okay! In 3-2-1" Pansy hollered, completely ignoring Matteo "action!"

"y/n hi! Uh I have to talk to you! Uh about uh something" Draco awkwardly grinned

"ooh yes Draco! What is it?" Matteo said in a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like you.

"uhm so-" Draco stammered

"yes Draco? Hehe" Matteo let out a giggle and twirled a strand of the wig

"uhm!..I have a collection of chocolate frog cards!" Draco squeaked, the word Yule ball being unable to form in his mouth

He heard all his friends groan and he became redder then a Weasley

"oh god not again..that's it. I'm going" Matteo threw the wig on the ground shaking his head "all the best" he patted Draco and walked away

"oh c'mon- wait one last time let me try one last time!" Draco whined as he watched all of his friends walk out of the dorm "oh wait- guys wait!"

-

"you can do this. I believe in you" Lorenzo gave his cousin a thumbs up

"well I don't" Matteo snorted which caused Draco to give him a dirty look "what? I'm being honest"

"she's right over there. Just go to her, say hi, maybe compliment her and then ask her out" the caramel haired boy ignored Matteo and gave his poor shaking cousin some tips

"what? What kind of compliments to I give her?" Draco whispered back in a sort of panick

"geez. Just tell her that she looks pretty today, and that you'd be honoured if she would go to the ball with you" Theodore cut in and shrugs "works like a charm"

"okay.. alright I got this" Draco mumbled

"yea you got it..now go" Pansy ushered the boy "c'mon now go ahead" she pointed towards the courtyard where you were.

Draco walked up towards you and a bunch of third years who were talking to you. Suddenly he felt very intimidated by those small scrawny third years and immediately turned away and walked back to his friends

"I can't do this! You lot are right, maybe I am hopeless" Draco sulked as his friends let out another sigh

"did he just call himself hopeless?" Matteo peered at the sulking boy "oh dear, y/n really did a number on him huh?"

"not helping Matteo" Pansy said sternly, hitting Matteo in the arm.

"listen, your Draco Malfoy and your going to go and ask y/n the girl who've been crushing on since forever to go to the ball with you" Blaise said giving Draco a light shake

"and if she says yes all is good and if she doesn't, well- it's kind of embarassing but it's gonna be alright" Pansy adds

"yea so go and ask her out now before she goes to the ball with Terry Booth over there huh?" Theodore nudges Draco towards your direction as the smiling ravenclaw keeper approaches you

"oh bloody hell- no way in my watch is y/n going to go out with that crow" Draco fumed under his breath as he immediately rushed towards you

"yea go get'em tiger!" Draco could hear Matteo whooping and the constant shouting from his friends, all hyping him up but that could hardly matter right now

Dracos hands were going all clamy and he could feel his heart racing. He wanted to run away from you but he wasn't going to let Terry Booth ask you out right infront of him!

"y/n" Terry approached you with a smile

"Terry" you greeted the Korean boy with a grin "anything's the matter?"

"oh yea uh I wanted to ask you if-" the keeper then abruptly stopped mid sentence as another person had joined their conversation

"y/n! Y/n!" A frantic Draco appeared, his eyes widened and his hair a mess

"Draco? Are you alright?" You ask the Slytherin boy who seemed to be in a bit of a mix

"mhm m'fine- I have to talk to you" Draco grabbed your hand which took you by surprise

You look at a awkward Terry and a frantic Draco, unsure of what to make up with this situation

"oi Booth can you bigger off for a second?" Draco coldly dismissed Terry who simply raise a eyebrow before shaking his head

"er- alright, I'll talk to you later y/n" Terry mumbled before walking away

"Draco! What was that. You can't just tell people to bugger off" you begin scolding Draco, unaware that his hands were still holding yours

"y/n I have to tell you something" the boy gulped, he could feel the way your hands felt against his and the close proximity the both of you were in. His heart racing even faster

"what is it?" You ask him, your brows creased up in slight worry. The blonde Slytherin boy who was always so put together, confident and full of himself was now nervous and quite frankly not behaving like his usual self

"Draco are you sick?" You immediately raise your free hand to his head and Draco swears that his temperature rises by a hundred degrees probably.

"uhm y/n" the boy begins, he could feel his sweat dripping and his mouth going dry

"oh dear Merlin Draco your turning redder than a tomato! Let's go to madam Pomfrey" you usher him, pulling him into the hallway "c'mon let's go-"

"wait y/n listen- I have to tell you something first"

You look at Draco in confusion. What did he have to tell you so much that he was acting quite frankly out of his personality

"er- okay..can you tell me when we're in the infirmary?"

"no! I have to tell you now" Draco pressed on. He had to ask you right now when he was full of adrenaline or else he won't be able to ask you later

"oh okay, okay" you say a little taken back "what is it?"

Draco bites his lower lip and mumbles something

"what Draco? I didn't quite catch you"

"uhm...I think uh- I think you look very nice today!" Draco suddenly exclaimed

"o-oh!" That might have taken you back by surprise even more, a slight blush forms in your face "thanks..uhm"

"actually I think you look nice everyday" Draco continues his eyes looking down, his grip on your hand tightening.

You look down and realise that the both of you were holding hands and you feel your face getting hot

"that's really sweet of you to say Dray" you said before you could stop yourself

Draco looks up at you, his eyes widened at the sudden nickname you called him

"Dray?"

You eyes widen and you the undying urge to slap yourself across the face as you see the way Draco's eyes twinkle with mischief.

"did you just give me a nickname? Dray?" Draco grins smugly, completely forgetting the real reason why he was with you

"oh shut up" you huff "I'm never gonna say that again"

"oh no please do say it again" Draco teased you, watching your face get red

"r-right, what did you have to tell me Draco? Do say it fast I don't have all day" you quickly try to change the subject causing Draco to remember the real reason why he was talking to you

"er-" Draco immediately felt all his confidence and smugness fading away

"oh dear Draco your getting red all again" you worriedly said, peering into his face "are you sure you don't need to-"

"not Draco" Draco mumbled

"what?"

"not Draco, don't call me Draco" Draco mumbled a bit louder

"well, what do you want me to call you then-"

"Dray, you should call me Dray" he says softly

Your eyes widen "Dray... I don't understand what-"

"doyouwanttogototheballwithme?" Draco squeaked

"what?"

Draco cleared his throat and looked around, he beckoned you to come closer to him and leaned towards you

"do you want to maybe perhaps go to the ball with..me?" He whispered into your ears filling your stomach with butterflies

"oh- Draco I-" you stammer, unable to form sentences "uhm I would really actually like that" you whisper back in surprise

"really?" Draco asked you back, his voice in equal surprise

You give a shy nodd

"really?!" Draco asked again looking at you eyes widened "I'm not going to stop saying really unless you give me a proper answer l/n"

Your roll your eyes "yes really...Dray I would love to go to the ball with you"

"oh my god I think I'm gonna pass out" Draco said feeling faint

"I think that's a little but of a exaggeration- oh my god Draco!" You shout out, trying to catch the boy before he fell on the ground

"oh dear- he actually passed out" you grimace slightly as you make him lie down in one of the stools in the courtyard after dragging him all the way from the hallway

You softly brush his blonde hair away from his pink face

"how quite adorable" you laugh to yourself

-

"Hey Berkshire!" Terry greeted Lorenzo who along with all his friends were trying to see what Draco and y/n were doing just as they got dragged to the hallway

"ugh we cant see them anymore!" Pansy whined as she stretched her neck, only to get a glimpse of blonde hair

"uhm s'everything alright?" Terry asked

"yea everythings fine" Lorenzo smiled at the tall boy "what's up?"

"oh uh- I did what you told me too" Terry grinned as all of Lorenzo's friends looked at him with a confused face

Lorenzo laughed "great chap you are my friend" giving him a pat in the back

"I'm guessing you told me to pretend like I'm asking y/n to the ball just so that Malfoy would make a move first?" Terry winced as he asked Lorenzo who just seemed to grin even brighter

"my god- you do catch on quick don't you?"

Terry let out a laugh and blushed at the sudden compliment. He was never really good with compliments

"you did what?" Matteo asked eyes widened

"sneaky snake" Pansy squinted her eyes at him and grinned 'your a genius!"

Lorenzo simply shrugged

"so whatdya think? He asked her out yet?" Terry peered out from where Pansy was standing

"maybe if Draco finally got the guts" Pansy snorted

"oh I think he did" Blaise said hesitantly

"what?" Pansy and Matteo asked eagerly

"it appears that our little prince has..." Theodore paused not sure whether he was supposed to laugh or be embarrassed

"he has what?" Pansy questioned

"oh hell!" Matteo shouted with laughter "the bloody wanker has fainted!" Matteo exclaimed with glee all across his face

Pansy covered her face with embarrassment as the boys roared with laughter. Only Terry wasn't the one laughing along.

"oh dear" Terry shook his head sadly "now how would the poor boy be when he dances with her?"

[bunnys-kisses]

wrestling au 🤼 - starring task force 141!

simon 'ghost' riley -

oh, big scary ghost. the masked heel of the little association he was apart of. he took in the sounds of people's booing, and he fought without much remorse. he tried not to make it look too real, by that he meant not messing up his opponent too much. the last thing he wanted was to get his ear talked off by upper management. there was a routine to follow, even if it ended in bruising, simon still had to follow it. or else everything could be thrown off. his hulking size made him a wall of an opponent, and the story lines where he won were always a crowd favourite. he loved being the big baddie of the ring, he loved to be the monster they booed at. because no matter how loud they got, simon would always walk away with the title belt.

he fucked like an animal though. you were the daughter of his trainer and boy did he love to take you for a spin after he got nice and sweaty. when your father was in his office cashing the cheque for the monthly payment for his services, simon was servicing something else. your back on the wooden bench of the men's locker room. simon's cock splitting you. he used his size to his advantage, while he couldn't do too much damage in the ring. you sure as hell could take a sexual beating. the numerous amount of times, simon had you twisted up as he fucked you. in the locker room, in the back of his car, even that time over your father's desk when he had left early. you were good stress relief and even when the crowd booed him, you were in the back happily cheering for your big, beefy lover.

john price -

face turned heel, a seasoned veteran with the aches and pains to prove it. his knees cracked if he tried to go to low and it usually takes him an extra few days to recover from it all. when he was clean shaven and younger, he was the pretty boy from liverpool. now in the twilight years of his career, he loved to be big, bad, price. he was the kind to play 'dirty', the sort of wrestler to throw last ditch effort tricks to win the match. he got his fists bloodied. he laughed when the crowd booed him, he basked in the feeling of being the worst of the worst. alongside his right-hand man ghost, they were destined to take the title from the pretty faced good guys. he looked good in the books and the 'shorts'. anyone close enough to the ring could see price's bulge. it was the type of be circulated on social media. he was hairy, a little different than the normally smooth wrestler. he smoked on stage and antagonized the audience. he was a hefty man who loved to get his opponents down on the mat.

but even at his age, he likes to sink his teeth into the competition. and what's better than the fresh face they got in the women's division. oh, you look amazing under him. price got into the ring with you a few times, the he had you bent in certain was that made you blush. you almost moaned when he had you basically in a ball with his barely covered crotch up against your ass. he even barked the words, "guess it's time for me to find a missus! what do you think? could our new starlet be the wife of the big, bad price?" which only earned hollering from the crowd. he liked it rough outside the ring, when he had you pushed into storage closets. when he got to tear your underwear off of you and sink into his prize. that was his cunt, don't you forget. if he sees you talking to another male wrestler, then there would be hell to pay. you better pray that the pill works, or you'll be in the stands a lot sooner than you expected with price's hefty baby in your arms.

john 'soap' mactavish -

face, face, face! but the face you hate to love! his story lines are always so good. he was cocky, loud, his laughter was like a bark when he got the microphone. he was the good boy from glasgow, even had saint andrew's cross across the ass of his shorts. he was the most flexible, often having the heels of the organization bend him in ways that most others couldn't. while he wasn't the broadest (he was still fairly big), he made up for it in endurance. one time he was asked how he could keep up for so long even if he was bloodied and bruised, he simply laughed and said, "well, ya bed enough bonnies. you can keep goin' all day and all night with the likes of these guys. sadly, the girls tap out before i'm finished." he felt like he teetered between being a heel and a face, he only became more cocky when he won the title from price. when he got the older man on the mats. it was only right for a face to have the title, for a heel to have it was wrong. but yet, there was a cockiness to him. even was he stripped price of the belt and gave the shiny metal a heated kiss. the man from the highlands was on top!

but of course the man on top loves to have his woman on top. and who exactly was the lovely woman to be with mister mactavish? well, it was the ceo's daughter of course! and the stamina he had in the ring bled into your experiences with him in the bedroom. johnny was a cervix bruiser, the kind where you'd feel it for days afterwards. when you sat at lunch with your father, you'd wince and pray that no pained expression crossed your face. like price, johnny was a breeder. with a stamina like a rabbit, of course he was shooting loads into you on almost a daily basis. you'd lie to your father about you whereabouts, you said you were at the library studying for your upcoming final. meanwhile johnny was pouring shots of liquor down your throat then messing up your pretty face with his cum as you sucked him off behind the building. insatiable, with the title around his waist only making it worse. he had the title in his hands and the ceo's daughter's lips around his throbbing cock. but don't worry, johnny isn't the type to tap and leave. no, no, finishing in you is a promise. a promise that you'll be mrs. mactavish very soon. after all, his kids weren't going to have your father's last name.

kyle 'gaz' garrick -

a very clearly a face. his gimmick is the sweetheart next door who can handle himself in the ring. a real knight in shining armor, it was hard when the story called for his defeat. but, in the end he always came back to secure his title. there was a bravado to him, and a real charmer. while some had a face that others wanted to hit, no one wanted to mess up that perfection that was kyle garrick. he did play it up a little bit, sauntering as he entered the ring, letting the crowd get excited for what was to come. he had more than a few fans, but he was always respectful. a real gentleman. he even had a trick where he'd give roses to female fans as he walked towards the ring. his smile gleaming under the bright lights.

of course, the sweetheart of the ring has the perfect love story. the woman who had been with him since his early days. while his fellow wrestlers got into all sorts of trouble, he enjoyed the company of his dear wife. but, don't get it wrong, your sex life was not boring. while price was screwing newbies, kyle was on his knees in the bathroom of the pub you all went to after the match. your back up against the sink of the single stall washroom. your pants around your knees and his large hands on your thighs. his tongue lapping at your pussy. your sweet, muffled moans kept kyle wanting more. his cock throbbed in his jeans, the rush of the match was still abuzz in his system. he loved the taste of his wife, how could he not? even after all these years together, tasting you was like biting into a ripe apple at the peak of its season. the kind of fruit that had a price tag that would make the average person shudder. you were the apple of his eye and the love of his life. of course he'd worship you. there was still an electricity between you two, a fire that couldn't be tamed. if he gave a rose to a fan as part of his gimmick, then you got a dozen. if roses made you allergies flare up, then he'd give you fake ones. so they'd never wilt, like his love for you.

[lewisvinga]

sugarplum | george russell x fem! reader

summary; y/n tries out a trend where she calls george cringy nicknames to see his reaction until she reveals something grand.

warnings; ?? none

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

word count; 520

notes; requested ! decided to do this written bc it’d be easier for me if that makes sense 😭 and fun fact, i wrote this instead of my history paper 😄

masterlist !

“Hey guys and welcome back to another come cook with me and my boo bear for a little date night,” Y/n says with a smile, trying to hold back her laugh at George’s furrowed-up eyebrows. She set her camera up in her kitchen, deciding that them making pasta would make great content.

“Boo bear?” George questions, his head tilted to the side as his hands rested on his hips. “Now that’s a new one.”

She playfully rolls her eyes as she holds up a cutting board in one hand and a box of cherry tomatoes in the other. “Now, Bubba is gonna be cutting some tomatoes for our pasta.”

George gives her another confused glance but takes the tomatoes from her. A small smile was evident on his lips as he chopped up the tomatoes while she chopped up onions and talked to the camera.

“Gummy bear, are you almost done so we can make the sauce?”

George puffs up his cheek, biting on his bottom lip to try not to laugh. He slowly nods as his face turns a light shade of red. “Yeah, all-all done.” He said, stuttering as he continued to try to contain his laugh.

“Honeybun, can you fill this with water?” Y/n asks, handing him a pot. He finally let a quiet chuckle slip but immediately contained the rest of his laughter.

“Got you, babe.” He replied, keeping a straight face as he grabbed the pot of water.

She also tried to keep a straight face. Each nickname made her cringe but for the sake of the video, she’d call him any nickname. She decided to call him one last nickname before giving him very special news.

George appears back in the frame beside her and places the pot of water on the stove. Y/n glances at the pot and gasps. “My sugarplum! You put the perfect amount-“

He couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. He lets out a loud holler and bursts into loud fits of laughter, holding onto his side from laughing so hard. She couldn’t hold back her giggles either, grasping onto the counter and laughing along.

“Babe, what the bloody hell was that!”

“Was testing you to make sure you were paying attention!” She said with a smile.

“I always pay attention to you, love, but wow. Those nicknames were something else…” He trailed off when he noticed how she opened her mouth like she was going to say something. “Another nickname?”

Y/n shakes her head and takes a deep breath. With a smile, she quietly says, “I’m pregnant.”

George’s blue eyes widened as his smile became even bigger than before. “You’re-you’re what?”

“Pregnant-“

“Bloody hell! This is amazing!” He loudly exclaimed, immediately picking her up and spinning her around out of excitement. “Better than those nicknames!” He says in between laughs, causing her to let out a chuckle.

He gently places her back down on the ground but keeps his hands on her waist. “This is the best news ever.” He whispers before placing a kiss on her lips.

“We’re having a baby, sugarplum.”

“Oh my days, Y/n.”

[adharastarlight]

Tis The Season

Eight: Music

Jegulus smut with maybe... some plot? Sirius doesn't know (just like if you know me irl? you dont) about jegulus at all... anyway, there's a reason James always has his music on too loudly

“Turn the music down, James!”

The brunette heard his best friend's yell echo from across the hall but he wasn't listening. He was also one hundred percent sure that Sirius would rather hear the possibly too loud bass of his music than the noises his little brother was making.

“Sh-shit, Jamie, fuck,” Reg managed the words between gasped moans, nails digging into the older boy’s back.

He cursed, “that's it, baby, you're so fucking perfect.”

The younger whimpered, arching into him further and throwing his head back, exposing that beautiful neck. That neck he knew he wasn't meant to mark. But it was right there. It was taunting him. Regulus let out a gasped moan when his boyfriend started sucking and biting at his neck. He would've said something, that it was a bad idea maybe, if he wasn't slowly going insane with bliss. A slightly louder moan tore free from him, almost animalistic, when James reached between them to rub circles against his clit, slowly, faster, faster, fuck.

“So good for me, angel.” James grunted at the nails scratching down his back, his hips stuttering slightly, “I'm so close, fuck.”

“Jamie, merde.”

The brunette moaned into his neck, against the skin he'd probably bruised by now, cursing as his boyfriend came, clenching around him. His hips lost their rhythm as he came, pressing fleeting kisses against Reg's neck and shoulders and collar bones as he slowly lowered himself to lie on top of him.

Regulus let out a soft huff as the older man's weight pressed into him and reached up to card his fingers through his hair gently, “hi sweetheart.”

He smiled and reached over for the remote for the stereo, turning down the music and pressing a kiss to the other's temple, “you need to find a way to be quieter, angel.”

“We've music and you like it when I'm loud.”

“Sirius yelled for me to turn it down, he'll catch on at some point.”

“That's his problem, not mine.”

James laughed softly, “it'll be your problem when your boyfriend is hung drawn and quartered, my love.”

“He wouldn't hurt my boyfriend!”

“I mean in his defence, he has no idea-”

“...Stop making excellent points.” He kissed his nose and tugged on his hair gently, “I liked the new mixed tape.”

“I thought you would.”

Reg smiled, about to reply and ask when he'd made it, but a holler came up the steps again. Followed by impatient stomping on stairs.

“James! You arse! It's your bloody turn to cook dinner! What the fuck are you doing in here?” The handle of his room twisted but the door remained closed, the brunette muffling his laugh in his boyfriend's neck. “Why the fucking hell is your door locked? Prongs! Come and make dinner you arse!”

“Go.” The younger whispered it into his hair, shushing the protest he knew was coming, “I'm fine, my love, I'm great actually. I'll be even better if my brother doesn't come barging in here. Go on.”

“Prongs!”

“Coming, I'm coming! Chill, Pads.” He pulled away reluctantly and kissed the figure smiling under him before rolling out of the bed and tugging on his boxers and joggers. He chuckled softly when his boyfriend lobbed his tee at him, lowering his voice to a whisper, “what's this for?”

Regulus grinned and tugged the duvet over himself, “you've scratches.”

“You're such a cat.”

“And you're such a stag, now shoo.”

The older boy scoffed and tugged on the tee before slipping out of his door, making sure it closed behind him before his best mate could look in, “you're very impatient, Pads.”

Sirius scanned him curiously, but merely shrugged and started walking downstairs, “what were you even doing? You're all flushed.”

“Pull-ups, sorry about the music, didn't realise how loud it was when I was in the moment.”

“It's alright, you're lucky Reggie doesn't mind that kind of music.”

“Yeah, really lucky.” He smiled to himself and clapped his mate on the back, “right, what d'you want for dinner?

***

“Reg!!! It's dinner!”

Regulus groaned at his brother's holler and rolled out of the bed he'd buried himself back into after his quick shower. He grabbed his shirt from the side and cursed under his breath at the state of it. They'd maybe been a little frantic to get the clothes off earlier.

“Regulus!”

“I'm coming you grumpy old dog!” He called back, reaching into his boyfriend's wardrobe for one of his tees which fell just above his knees, foregoing his boxers and trousers because… making said boyfriend suffer was awfully good fun.

James looked up as the younger boy walked into the lounge and almost choked. He also almost dragged him back up to his room. He was starving, but the plate in front of him had never looked so unappetising.

“Finally! What took you so long, étoile?”

He shrugged and settled into his spot, the one between James and the arm of the sofa. Which he honestly had made his, before he actually knew where the man who would become his boyfriend sat. He could feel the probably-not-subtle eyes running over him and smiled, “dinner looks good.”

His brother nodded and flopped into the armchair near them, picking up the remote, “I love mum and dad but I might love eating in front of the tv more.”

Regulus nodded and forced a shiver, tugging the blanket over himself and the brunette, “me too. It's far more relaxed.”

His boyfriend grinned at him and moved his hand to his inner thigh, brushing against where he'd expected to find boxers and stifling a groan by stuffing a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. He glanced at his best friend whose attention was affixed to the screen and dipped his hand between his thighs, brushing lightly against his clit.

“Oh, Reggie, Pandora called.”

He raised an eyebrow at his brother, ignoring the teasing touches as best as he could, “she did?”

“Yeah, asked about going to the city centre tomorrow, the library. I said you'd call if you couldn't go but otherwise meet her there at eleven.”

James waited for the moment his boyfriend opened his mouth to pinch his clit, just hard enough to elicit a sharp inhale.

“Oh, yeah, that's great. I'll definitely g-” he forced back a moan as a finger slipped into him, curling up to brush his gspot, “go-oh.”

Sirius glanced over at the stuttered word and furrowed his brows, “you okay, Reggie?”

“Yeah, yea-” he clenched his jaw when his boyfriend repeated the motion and had a sip of his water, smiling sheepishly at his brother, “hiccups, sorry.”

He shrugged and turned back to the tv. James waited a moment to ensure he wasn't going to turn back around and pushed a second finger into him, curling and stroking until he was fairly certain the it other's teeth were grinding together. He leaned over slightly, whispering against the shell of his ear, “so pretty and desperate for me, angel. In my shirt and nothing else. Practically begging me to fuck you, hm?”

Reg let out a quiet whimper, making sure his voice was just as quiet when he replied, “is this you - fuck - teaching me to be quiet?”

“Mm. You're doing so well, baby.”

“Fuck, Jamie, please.”

The brunette smirked and rubbed his thumb against his clit, moving his fingers just too slowly, “if you're quiet you can come whenever you want, angel.”

He bucked his hips into the contact slightly before nodding, biting his lip hard enough to draw the faintest blood to hold back a moan when his boyfriend sped up. His shoulders slumped into the sofa behind him as he focused on being quiet, only a quiet gasp leaving him when he came, head thrown back slightly, back arched up the tiniest amount.

James drew his hand back and waited until his boyfriend was looking at him to suck his fingers clean. He smirked at the almost silent whimper, mouthing ‘good boy’ and watching the younger boy crumble on the spot.

They were going to need louder music.

[nodirectionhome-ao3]

Victorious

Written for Jilytoberfest 31 Prompts Day 30: "Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me."

——

She can hardly think over the roaring of the crowd. The buzz of it seems to vibrate in her very skull, pounding with a force that matches the thrum of her heart in her ribcage. All around her, the crowd of scarlet watches the Seekers dive towards the Snitch–Elton Ackerley versus Regulus Black, a battle that no longer matters. 

“What is Black doing?” cries a voice from beside Lily. Mary’s voice, positively baffled. Bless her. “Slytherin’s down by four hundred, for Merlin’s sake. Doesn’t that idiot know his team needs to score more before he ends the match?”

“Probably not,” snorts Sirius from behind them. “That fucking idiot can’t count to save his life.”

“Bet he knows there’s no hope, with the way Potter’s been playing,” counters Bridget, smugly. “Reckon he’s just trying to put an end to Slytherin’s humiliation, at this point.”

Lily feels a smile warm her cheeks. It’s true, and they all know it. Even if Black does manage to nab the Snitch for Slytherin, the one-hundred-and-fifty points wouldn’t even put a dent in Gryffindor’s lead. There’s only really one player who can be blamed for that lead—a certain dark-haired wonder with windswept hair and jaw-dropping speed and perfect bloody dexterous hands and—

“Another goal for Gryffindor!” booms the announcer, his voice rattling through Lily’s head. “That’s right, Potter! You show those scaly serpent twats—sorry, Professor McGonagall, I mean—another excellent play by Gryffindor’s captain! He’s really on a roll today, isn’t he?”

On a roll, indeed. Lily is screaming before she knows it, her voice growing hoarse with each ‘go, James!’ that rips itself from her throat. She’s spent so many years scoffing at Quidditch, denying herself this joy. And for what—for what? 

Merlin. 

It’s freeing to just bloody enjoy it. To lose herself in it. To jump with that crowd of scarlet around her. To laugh with each jeer that Sirius sends his brother’s way. To scream. To holler. To sing. To watch James dip and glide and roll. To feel her cheeks grow as red as his. To let her mind go fuzzy at that heart-stopping smile of his, that fierce determination on his face whenever he closes his hands around the Quaffle, the sweat that dampens his hair, the way his arm looks when he lifts it for a throw—

Fucking hell.

“Ackerley and Black are neck and neck now! The Snitch is within reach, it’s anyone’s catch now—come on Ackerley—sorry, Professor—”

A collective shout ripples through the crowd—a chorus of ‘come on Ackerley!’ that Lily doesn’t join. Her eyes stay fixed on the Chaser who sails above, putting his body between the Slytherin Beaters and his teammate. Daring them to try anything. Daring them to send a Bludger his way. And he’d bloody do it too, Lily knows without question. James Potter, in all his stupid, self-sacrificing recklessness, would take a Bludger to the head to spare his team’s Seeker without a lick of regret. The nerve of him. The stupid, reckless, admirable, noble, beautiful—

“Ackerley’s got it! He’s got the Snitch! And that’s it! Gryffindor wins five-hundred-and-sixty to ten!”

The crowd breaks into a whole new kind of roar. Lily is right there with them, throwing her arms around Mary and Bridget in turn. Jumping. Screaming. Kicking her feet when Sirius hoists her up and spins her around, hollering in her ear. 

James is a blur as he sails down to Ackerley, pulling the scrawny kid halfway off his broom in a jubilant hug. When they break apart, he’s hoisting Ackerley’s arm into the air in triumph, clapping him on the back and grinning widely enough to melt Lily’s heart into a puddle right bloody there.

The crowd is chanting. “Ackerley! Ackerley! Ackerley!” James, maddeningly content to let the Seeker take the credit for a victory that is really all his, waves his arms in an upward motion at the crowd—signaling them to shout louder, louder, louder.

The crowd in the stands begins to rush downwards—a sea of scarlet converging on the grass below to mob the team where some of them are beginning to land. It’s a big fucking deal, this victory—the first time Gryffindor has beaten Slytherin in ten years. Never mind that the leaves on the trees are just beginning to change and the Quidditch Final is still months away. Never mind that this is the first match of the season. This victory is a big fucking deal and Gryffindor will treat is as such. Lily would be right there with them, if she could bring herself to move a muscle. 

She stays rooted in the spot, her eyes locked on where James is now hovering mid-air, seemingly oblivious now to how his teammates are peeling away around him—swooping down to join the celebrations on the pitch below. He doesn’t seem to notice the trophy that Sirius has conjured (depicting a lion eating a snake, of course), or the chanting that’s somehow changed from ‘Ackerley! Ackerley! Ackerley!’ to ‘Potter! Potter! Potter!’ He’s looking directly at Lily instead—grinning at her— and she’s looking at him, giggling.

“Potter! Potter! Potter!”

James begins to move, but not in the direction anyone is expecting. His eyes never leaving Lily’s, he draws closer, closer, closer. Until he’s dismounting right there in the stands, tossing his broom down without a second glance and clambering over a bench.

“James!” Lily shouts, scrambling over the rows before her to meet him halfway. “James, you did it! You were amazing! You—”

He stops her words with a kiss—warm and desperate and bloody electric. The roar of the crowd grows impossibly louder, and Lily’s mind is wiped blank—blissfully, beautifully blank. Her fingers dig into his Quidditch robes, her heart exploding in her chest, and all those silly reasons they’d had for keeping their relationship secret are worlds away, dissolved into nothingness with the feel of his lips on hers. 

She feels him grin against her, feels the tickle of his voice when he whispers ‘Evans,’ before his lips are on hers again and his sturdy arms are sliding around her and the world is going topsy turvy because he’s fucking dipping her—right there in front of the whole bloody school.

The crowd is so loud now she can feel it in her veins. But all that matters is James—right here, right now, tangled up with Lily in this moment she hopes will last forever.

[marketfreshfics]

Like Rabbits | Garreth x f!MC

Header image: @newbienewness ✦ 4327 words ✦ NSFW content (MDNI), aged-up characters, unnamed female MC (no use of y/n), alcohol consumption, admission of feelings/slight proposition, masturbation, spanking, p in v, light dom/sub elements ✦ Plot? What plot? This was honest to god just an excuse to write about Garreth in a rabbit costume ✦ Read it below the cut or on AO3

Easter festivities were a rarity at Hogwarts, yet when an opportunity for revelry arose, the seventh-years seized it with unbridled enthusiasm.

For generations, a pact among students governed the hosting duties on such occasions. The house with the fewest points bore the responsibility (and, by consequence, the aftermath) of throwing the celebration. Slytherin, enduring a dismal streak, found themselves reluctantly poised to shoulder the burden once more, the third time not necessarily the charm. As the soon-to-be graduates gathered amidst their diminished house, they sampled the exotic hors d'oeuvres with subdued chatter, their ranks thin and their spirits somewhat subdued, shooing a curious first year who had risen from bed to visit the loo.

You couldn't help but notice the lacklustre effort put forth, evident in the half-hearted swirling of your drink and the telltale lines of boredom etched upon your brow. Natsai, however, who displayed a downright lackadaisical disinterest, was already poised to depart for the evening. "I do think the Slytherins should dedicate more focus to their house standings to avoid committing another crime such as this party."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips in response, prompting an eye-roll from Imelda as she fished a hair from her drink. "Blame Sallow, we’re still recovering from his little bridge stunt."

The memory evoked a ripple of amusement; the viaduct bridge, unimposing as ever one moment, became a terrifying tangle of devil’s snare that multiplied out of control, requiring several days' worth of Confringo to eradicate.

"I’ll let you know I’m still working through detention for that." Sebastian, the culprit in question, shot a wry grin as his classmates riled with snickers, much to his chagrin. "I was only practicing the Geminio charm for Ronen’s assignment! At his recommendation, mind you, I performed it outside on a plant! I swear, Professor Weasley was just trying to-"

"Did someone mention Weasley?"

Heads swivelled towards the echo of an announced arrival from the staircase, and before questions and curiosities could be posted, Garreth Weasley sauntered down the spiral steps wearing a riot of pink cotton with two lapin ears sprouting from his crown. The seventh-years all hollered and laughed at the sight, save for Leander, who appeared wholly unamused by his fellow Gryffindor’s getup. "The bloody hell, Garreth?"

"What?" He grinned at the tall redhead. "Surely we couldn't have a proper Easter festivity without a rabbit present? Where’s the fun in that?"

Leander's jab echoed into the rim of his goblet before he took a sip. "Is that what’s been stuffed under your bedframe for the past month? You look ridiculous."

Undeterred, Garreth opted instead to, well, air his abundance of comfort. "Yes, but I feel incredible. Quite breezy down here, innit?"

Spiked cider sputtered from Sebastian then, dribbling down his chin. "Are you wearing anything under that poacher’s pelt?"

"Isn’t my smile enough for you, Sallow?"

Yet, despite yourself, your curiosity persisted, occasionally wandering to the vicinity of his lap. Heat rose to your cheeks, unrelated to the effects of alcohol, as you observed the subtle jostle there. It was a wager, you thought, with a flush of embarrassment tinting your cheeks, that Garreth Weasley remained, by all accounts, an honest man.

"What even is this fabric?" Natsai protested, pinching the fold of fluff near her housemate’s bicep. "It appears to be rather flammable."

"Now that would provide ample entertainment for the evening." Ominis chimed in nearby, his attention still fixed on his wand-led readings, seemingly uninterested in the fraternization.

"One at a time, darlings." Garreth, the ever-enthusiastic lion, swung a wicker-weave basket to and fro, reminiscent of some fictional harbinger of joy. Nestled within the dried grass padding were several small bottles of firewhisky, a smattering of cauldron cakes, and various other treats from Honeydukes. "I knew the Slytherins were in desperate need of a Pepperup, so I've come to spread the merriment. Snakes enjoy chocolate frogs, don't they?"

"I thought snakes typically ate rabbits," Imelda quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Garreth didn't miss a beat in his response to her jest. "If I were none the wiser, Reyes, I'd wager you'd like to take a hop around my carrot���"

A muttered expletive signalled the departure of the quidditch captain, leaving behind a chorus of laughter.

You found yourself enthusiastically joining in, relishing the unexpected amusement of the evening. As the crowd dispersed, you approached Garreth to select a treat of your own.

"Happy Easter, beautiful." Garreth's voice dipped low, laced with a suggestive tone that he often employed in your company. "Care to take a seat on the Easter bunny's lap and tell me what you want to find in your basket tomorrow morning?"

"That's Santa Claus," you teased in return.

"My mistake."

The flirtations between Garreth and yourself had become somewhat of a tradition throughout your Hogwarts enrollment, though they never progressed beyond playful banter. Here and now, with alcohol’s nack for unbarring inhibitions, the thought of advancing motions with the cheeky Gryffindor didn’t seem like such an unreachable feat.

"You seem rather warm in that outfit," you observed, noting the slight sheen above his brow.

Garreth chuckled. "It's rather steamy in here, indeed. But not to worry, I can… ventilate if needed." Handing you a small package of honeycomb with a coy smirk, he added, "Here, I think you'll enjoy this one."

Before you could inquire further, Garreth was already moving through the lively crowd, intent on distributing more sweets and cheers. With a huff of amusement, you tore into the package of honeycomb, only to notice some writing on the pleat of the wrapper.

'Do you know what rabbits are known for? I think we could do it better. Tell me when you’re ready, and we can hop off for the night.'

The implications hit you like lightning.

Copious procreation.

Flammable or not, your gaze practically burned through the back of Garreth's fluffy pink ensemble as he disappeared into the throng of students.

---

While the evening bled into night, even with the bolstering presence of libations coursing through your veins, the mere idea of approaching Garreth at the night's end had your insides all tangled. Harmless flirtations aside, this was a full-on proposition. What if the request was meant for someone else?

Then again, he’d deliberately dedicated the honeycomb to you…

---

Somewhere between a refilled goblet and the honeycomb wrapper now tucked into your brazier like some love letter from a sweetheart posted overseas, your prior suspicions of Garreth’s costume being rather warm were confirmed. The redhead retracted an arm inside the suit, while the other unzipped the front to his navel, exposing his bare chest as he tied the sleeves around his hips.

At that moment, propriety yielded to fascination, and any pretense of restraint evaporated as you found yourself captivated by the contours of his soft yet sculpted physique. A twinge of envy stirred within you, brought on by the admiring glances of the two Hufflepuff witches directed his way from the sidelines.

Garreth leaned against the wall, a slight trickle of sweat central to his chest, freckles all flushed from alcohol and flirtations, and seeing the wizard looking entirely dishevelled in his buzzed state did something truly wonderful for your inhibitions. Downing the rest of your pep talk, you crossed the common room, approached him near the enchanted piano, and promptly cupped a hand to his ear.

"I’m ready to… hop off, for the night." You whispered, the heat carried with it curling into the shell of cartilage.

"Yeah?" Garreth’s grin settled into a keen sort of coy, and his gaze went all honed-in and confident, leaning into you with some additional insinuations in those glassy greens of his. "Sure you don’t want to linger a bit longer in this charming mildew?"

His stray dig was not lost on Sebastian, who promptly threw Garreth a pointed warning without threat behind it, bopping an ear of his fuzzy getup.

"Settle down, Sallow," Garreth chortled, relieving his cup of its contents before boldly taking your hand. “We know the snakes always host the most splendid of shindigs.”

A chorus of wolf-whistles heralded your departure, along with someone’s award-winning remark about calling Garreth ‘Thumper.’

Down the adjacent hallway you went, past another couple that was long since lip-locked, and the firewhisky fuzz in you sought the very same. At the end of the hallway that connected to the Slytherin dormitories, coincidentally located at the intersection of friendship and something more, you shoved Garreth against the wall and claimed that magical mouth of his with your own.

For all the smart comments, the witty banter, the years of flirtations that stacked the deck and colored your cheeks, Garreth melted against you, a mess of vulnerability and desire. His body responded eagerly, exploring newfound territories with a hunger born of longing. Eventually, his body caught up to the priority of the situation, wrapping both arms around you with eager motions and traveling to all the locations he’d only dreamt of visiting before.

You were moving then—perhaps another student was evicting you from the open area, nudged aptly to ‘get a room’—but at one point or another, between lips, between moans, and those magical, heated renditions of your name, you found yourselves in a vacant dormitory.

"Who’s room is this?" You pondered breathlessly.

Garreth didn’t seem to give two shits as you all but crashed into the bedroom, nearly toppling an oil lamp, sending it teetering on its pegs as you collided with a bedpost. "Don’t know, don't care."

And that conversation promptly died in between your mouths, somewhere in the tangle of your tongues, as Garreth captured your wrists, holding them above your head as he trailed kisses along your throat. Plush, pink lips planted sweet kisses, while the scuff of end-of-day stubble bit friction in their wake.

"Garreth," You murmured with a shallow draw of breath. "You… you fancy me?"

"Oh, we’re well past fancying, love." His tone dipped back into devious territory, the same place where feelings like desire and longing and, goodness, arousal held court. “I’m onto the craving stages of our little tryst, myself. And right now… I need you.”

In response to his confession, your leg instinctively hitched over his hip, eliciting a low groan as he captured his bottom lip between teeth, a rewarding gesture that spoke volumes without a word.

His grip on your wrists was released, instead seeking the supple curve of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the nearest bed. Settling you down with a sense of urgency, the mattress dipped with his company, and he enveloped you in his embrace, hungering for more of the kisses that fueled his wet dreams.

Garreth pulled back, settling on his knees above you, a pleased grin playing on his lips as he panted, as if suddenly realizing something, perhaps in response to the whisper of a zipper against his bare chest. "Why aren't you naked yet?"

You laughed, mischief set free as you met his gaze. "Excuse me? What about romance? Shouldn't you be wooing me or, I don’t know, engaging in some foreplay?"

The redhead chewed his lip, and it stretched with eagerness. “Of course. Where are my manners? Though I’m still taking all of your clothes off right now, I’ve waited long enough for my Easter present.”

"You don’t exactly give gifts for Easter."

There wasn’t much room left for protest, however, as Garreth all but tore your skirt from your waist, his expression telling of the countless times he’d imagined doing so, perhaps somewhere into his fist or while soaking in the shower. The billow of linen and cotton was discarded with such haste that you thought he’d taken some unspoken offence to the garment, but then his efforts were being spent on tugging your underwear down. A breath born from an expletive ensured you were plenty wet for the introduction.

Verdant irises were engulfed by pupils blown wide, as Garreth drank in the sight of your sex. "God… my imagination could never."

"Like what you see, do you?" You giggled nervously, knees bent and pressed together in honest reflex.

"You have no bloody idea how much I like what I see," he replied with a grin, his gaze tracing every contour of your exposed skin. "...what am I supposed to do now?" It was his turn for a nervous chuckle, palming whatever flesh he made contact with, his demeanour akin to that of a tourist in need of directions.

A soft moan rewarded his efforts. "Whatever you desire... I'm yours for the night, remember?"

And to seal the proverbial deal, you peeled the ruched top up and over your head, unhooked your brazier immediately after, and bit the web of your cheek as you expedited it to the floor, joining the rest of your clothing expenditures.

The honeycomb wrapper fluttered onto your stomach, and Garreth raised an amused brow. "A fond little souvenir, hmm?"

"It’s sentimental, shut up." You purred, quieting his jests with bare chests pressed, and he saw no room for further comment on the matter. Garreth was all mouth then, kissing from lips to chin to lobe as he tutted. "Before we truly make like rabbits and fornicate," He couldn’t help the huff that followed, hearing himself say such a big boy word, "there's something I want to do first."

"Tell me," you urged quietly, fingers tangled in fiery copper curls. "Tell me what you want to do to me..."

"Well, for starters..." He kissed a breadcrumb trail from your neck to your shoulder, "I want to hold you in my arms and get you off."

"Oh god," anticipation drenched your mound and arched your back. "Yes, Garreth, please…"

The sound of your voice sent shivers down his spine, confirming the suspicions he had harboured for months. Curated Gryffindor courage made his heart swell, and his hands trailed down to both hips, maneuvering you around until your back pressed against his chest, playing little and big spoons. Garreth's lips found their way to the curve of your ear, where teeth and lips took turns teasing your lobe. "Comfy?"

"Very much so," you mewled, surrendering to his magnetic presence, your bare back pressed against his chest while you lay on your side. Your hips instinctively moved in synchrony with his, firm against fluffy pink fabric slung low on his waist, and there it is—that stiffness underneath the plush that has your mouth watering and your groin humming. A snort erupted from you at the reminder of the rabbit costume, partially undressed, entirely inappropriate.

"What's that, sweetheart? Gonna share with the class?" He tsked then, and a mischievous grin adorned his face as he felt the delightful pressure of your hips against his own. "Might I… take a dip?"

"Yes," you breathed, already writhing, already wanting, even though his exploration had only just commenced. "Please, Garreth... please..."

And so Garreth learned a lot about himself then; your pleading revealed a new kink. He nuzzled your neck with a mischievous grin, his touch growing more daring as a hand dipped lower; as soon as his fingers gently caressed the carnal crux between your thighs, your neck arched a bit harshly, but that was just fine; you were too absorbed in thoughts of holy fuck, Garreth is rubbing my clit.

The prompt response surprised him, but your brash expression had an undeniable allure. A playful smile appeared on his face as he leaned in and whispered in your ear. "Merlin, this wet for me already? So generous..."

"Can’t believe I’m getting fingered by someone in a bunny costume.”

“Fingered by me in a bunny costume, thank you.” Garreth began sucking over your jugular to elicit a sweet little cry from your mouth, and with the flesh popping audibly, no doubt where a bruise would bloom, he whispered, "You're going to feel splendid around me, beautiful.”

"I want you, Garreth." Grinding your pelvis into both his palm and his dick certainly conveyed as much. It echoed the heat that built over months of minute gestures, sidelong glances, and jokes made at each other’s expense.

"I want you, too." His hand moved with purpose, with three fingers flat against your bud, dipping to explore your intimate depths while those tactful lips brushed the upward jut of your neck. An arm snaked under you and around your middle, palming a breast with a multitasking maneuver that made you squirm.

"Garreth," you whimpered as he caressed your wetness, throwing petrol on the fire within you. You found a rhythm that harmonized with the symphony he composed. "Yes, yes..."

"What is it, baby?" His thumb made love to that throb and swell of nerves, eyes closed in concentration as he leaned closer, exhalation hot on your shoulder.

"I want to come for you," you rasped, testifying that which sought to consume you. "Please… faster…"

Garreth's explorations intensified, and the sound of your slick arousal punctuated each movement. An almost accomplished smile curled his lips, relishing the subtle power he held over you. "Do my fingers feel good?" His voice danced all hushed and seductive, the grate of alcohol and lust on his throat.

You were lost in the whims of his touch, unfolding in his hands. As he quickened the pace of his fingers, your body arched along the river banks of abandon, edging closer to release. "I know something that would feel even better."

He possessed an innate knowledge of the words that would stoke the fire within you. "We’ll get there," he whispered, his breath hot on your racing pulse. "First… come for me."

"Yes," you whimpered, your voice trembling with the impending climax that welled within. His finger movements, an audacious symphony between soaked folds, carried you ever closer. "I'm… I'm… "

As your cries of pleasure came forth with volume, Garreth focused his efforts on your clitoral hood, applying firm pressure as opposed to frantic fingering, intent on prolonging the spasms. At the same time, your body practically sang his praises, and he offered the same in return. "Good girl. Now... are you ready for me?"

You panted, flipping over to face him with a breathless peppering of kisses, flush with gratitude. “Keep calling me a good girl like that, and I will be,” you breathed, gently biting his bottom lip.

He was quick on the draw, bless him. "Good girl.”

Eager motions resumed, bodies practically clinging together. "I want you inside me, Garreth." You squirmed underneath, anticipating his taking. “Let me be your good girl; take me from behind…”

Without hesitation, Garreth shifted you onto your stomach faster than his brain could sort sense of the idea. He grabbed you by the hips, repositioning you on the bed with precision, with his trademark combination of dominance and fondness. You stabilized on elbows, swaying your hips like the comely creature you were.

"Is this what my good girl wants?" he smirked, devouring the gradual parting of your legs, the invitation for him to claim what is rightfully his.

"Yes," you practically pleaded, thrumming to feel the weight of his hands upon your hips, to experience his penetration. "Please, baby... spank me."

He processed the request with his mouth slightly agape in surprise at your words. No one had ever made such a request to him before. "Are you asking me to spank my good girl?"

A coy nod over your shoulder and a bitten lip conveyed your consent. "Yes, please... I'll be good..."

"Say it properly.” The command was all supplicant and alluring, while ravenous hands sampled your inner thighs.

“Please, Garreth…” You whimpered, practically dripping. “Please, spank me.”

"That's better..."

A palm thunderclapped across your rear with unexpected force. Another followed in quick succession, harder than the first, and you cried a simpering symphony. Hips swayed and rutted, knees threatened to buckle, and your back arched as heat rooted deep. "More, please, baby..."

His breath hitched as he took in your heartfelt plea, spurred on by something that mingled and met with testosterone, compelling him to venture into unexplored realms, a captive yearning for sweet freedom. Garreth employed the enthralling control he had over you as he gripped your hips possessively, while his palm branded your buttocks.

"So good," you gasped, and each contact drew forth a garbled moan.

A mischievous smirk played across the lion’s face, as he darkened at the welting consequences of his actions. He prolonged the inevitable. "Oh, is that so?" His hand descended once more, his touch deliberate, unhurried.

"Yes, oh god..." You yearned for a proper fuck, to have your hips hammered, longed to stretch intimately around him. With your bottom lip caught between teeth, you glanced back at Garreth, exuding an eager and willing demeanour. "Baby, please..."

The taut heat of his cock nestled against your rear. Nimble fingers curled into your waist, drawing you closer, and then Garreth discovered the full extent of your arousal. "So wet for me..."

"Only for you, baby..." You pushed your hips back, feeling entirely too empty all of a sudden. "Garreth, I need you inside of me… please, take me... "

"Oh, I'm going to take you, all right."

And then, in a display of vulnerability, he guided you closer with hesitant hands seeking comfort on your thighs. With a shared breath, Garreth aligned himself, gathering warmth and wetness in kind on his cock, and announced his entry with an audible exhale.

Like a reflex, your back arched, writhing serpentine along his length as Garreth bottomed out. He provided experimental thrusts, gradually quickened the pace, and soon you were sucked into a beautiful pattern.

A primal moan parted lips in an unfiltered expression of longing as he delved deeper, as Garreth bucked from behind. Bending down, he pressed an enthusiastic kiss to your nape, grunting with the forceful motion of his fuck. With every thrust, his lips on your neck sent shivers down your spine, and with how desperate he was to hold you close, Garreth clutched you close and brought your torso upright, swaying in rhythm, your bodies making sense of one another’s.

"Oh, baby girl…" The wizard purred into your ear with a strong forearm clamped over your torso and a firm grasp tangled in your hair. He tugged at your strands as he increased his pace, the pricks of pulled nerves eliciting a gasp. His grip across your midsection anchored you to his chest, the tight hold leaving crescent marks of possession into the swell of a breast. A lovely, lewd sound escaped his throat as your hips began to meet his movements, the overwhelming pleasure consuming him entirely.

Your back pressed against his chest, and you contorted in all the right ways. With a head tilted back, your sights set on the heavens, surrendering to the moment. "Fuck me, baby. Hold me tight..."

"I’m not letting go," The words were all breath, the sound caught on the brimming heart stuck in his throat, as he leaned down to bite your neck. "You're... you're mine..."

Your hand instinctively snaked between your legs, choking your clit between index and middle digits. The intense sensation of Garreth's plumbing your depths brought you to the brink, surpassing your wildest expectations. "Oh god, Garreth, I'm... I'm coming...”

A shriek was stifled as you came hard and raw, your abdomen releasing pressure buildup as you rocked against Garreth’s cock like it was your saving grace, coaxing and prolonging your release as you disengaged from body and mind, almost going slack in his arms. The announcement, the tightness of your orgasm propelled him fuck to his full potential, chorused by your cries. He teetered on the brink, his equilibrium delicately balanced as he held onto your hip, thrusting deeper inside with each exhalation, his movements deliberate and steadfast.

The bed protested audibly as you rocked on your knees, punctuating your passionate connection. You coaxed him with a voice still raw and made all the more ragged from your climax. "Come, baby…"

Your words were the catalyst of his coming. Garreth buried his face into the back of your neck, breathing ragged and erratic as the boundless excitement that you built within him finally burst forth in a breathtaking culmination. He surrendered to an overwhelming release, spilling himself deep within.

Collapsing forward, he pressed you into the bed, his body weight a comforting presence upon you. You let out a sound of satisfaction as he settled on your back, your inner thighs slick with evidence of your shared release. An inward sigh of fulfillment escapes you while you tilt to plant a kiss on his cheek. "God, that was even better than the first."

"You’ve rendered me boneless, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder. “I’m utterly spent.”

You couldn't help letting out a soft chuckle; your fingers naturally entwined with his as you both shifted onto your sides. When your eyes met, they reflected a sense of contentment and gratification. "Me too," you admitted, your voice soothing in the quiet aftermath. "Spent and drained..."

Garreth's hand tightened around yours, conveying tenderness. His lips curled into a gentle smile, a sparkle of admiration flickering in his gaze. Compelled by magnetism, you gravitated close, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. "Stay," you murmured, longing to extend this moment of closeness.

The chuckle he responded with caught you off guard until you realized that you hadn’t the foggiest idea whose bed you just expressed your feelings in. "Ah, I see," you laughed, begrudgingly reaching for your clothes.

As you tugged each article of clothing on, Garreth adjusted the rabbit costume back into place, and you devolved into a fit of giggles. “Did you even take off that ridiculous get-up?”

“Listen, love,” Garreth smirked, claiming your chin with impish intent. “I just fucked the most beautiful woman in our year wearing this. I won't soon be criticizing its charm.”

You leaned closer to kiss him, as breathless as he made you feel. “Fair enough.”

[writingoddess1125]

Gigs

This Fine Lady has been in my drafts for like- 8 Months??? Please excuse grammer issues, i didnt re-read it

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Masterlist

0200 Hours Barrancas Del Cobre

The rhythmic thumping of rotor blades echoed through the open sky as Gigs skillfully maneuvered the large military helicopter through the turbulent skies. TF 141, clad in their tactical gear, secured safely inside and ready for the upcoming mission.

"Ready for quick action Pilot Gigs? May have to make a smooth landin lass" Price called to you, walking to your chair as you glanced back at the man.

"Nah Cap, I' like it slow'~ Especially with Becks Sh's a romantic~" Gigs said with a laugh patting the helicoper stick at the made up nickname for the vehicle, earning a few giggles from the boys in the back.

"Ohh A romantic I see, well a romantic with this many men with big guns? Would mistake for a slag-" Price said earning a loud laugh from Gigs as they went through a mountain pass, the trip had been smooth sailing so far.

However it seemed smooth sailing wasnt a guarantee. Ghost glancing back as he saw two dots coming behind them- Fast.

"Gigs!- Company" He loudly announced, the crew looking back as Gigs clicked her tongue.

"Well Shit! Hold on tight, boy's it’s ’bout to get rough!" Gigs cackled, fixing her helmet as she kicked up the helicopter towards a tighter canon pass, seeing two attack copters getting closer.

"Price! Look in my bag 'eal quick, you need a good shot"

She hollered out, the men preparing for a air attack as Price went to the back of the copter to the pilots coop, reaching in as he couldn't help but raise a brow.

Pulling back a Pila Launcher, With a few rounds of ammo as well. Price walking to the door as he slid it open, the men taking a look at the launcher of choice.

Alejandro looking to Gigs with a terrified laugh- "You keep this on hand!?"

"Oh Bless You Darlin' you shou'd see wha' I keep in my panty dra'er" She said with a wink and smile as she flicked up some keys, Grunting as she saw the two on her tail and flicked up the gas.

Lets Fuckin Go-

As she zips through the canyon, dodging enemy fire, the team bracing themselves hard, holding the leather straps as they felt gravity slamming against them. The enemy helicopters are hot on their tail, as sound of gunfire from them heard- but Gigs is in her element. She dips the chopper into a tight barrel roll, narrowly avoiding a missile that streaks past, exploding against the canyon wall.

"How the bloody hell are we still in the air!?" Gaz shouts, gripping his seat for dear life. Ghost grabbing his vest to keep against the seat as he hissed himself at the harsh movements.

"Cause I’m just that damn good baby!" Gigs yells back, her voice full of adrenaline-fueled excitement. Price loading the Launcher as best as he could, his body slamming into the copter side, Alejandro grabbing him to steady as the doors swung open. Price holding steady as he aimed at the closest helicopter-

"One Down! Need to reload!" Price yelled out as contact was struck, Starting to reload as fast as possible. Gigs glanced around quickly however, knowing the second copter could take them down especially when she saw missles fire- till her eyes spotted the canyon wall.

"Fuck Fuck Fuck!"

Gigs pulls the chopper into a steep climb up the canyon, gaining altitude fast.

"Come on Beck's!, Clime for me sug!" She yelled out as the boys felt themselves go vertical.

"You're Fuckin' Mental!" Soap yelled out with a laugh as he felt his feet dandle from the seat.

"Time for some fireworks, boys!" She flips a switch, and flares shoot out from the helicopter, confusing the incoming missiles that explode harmlessly in the sky perfectly turning the guns on the remaining copter-

"Gotcha You Bitch!"

A whistle of excitement leaving Gigs as she howled and shot down on the copter watching it explode fust a few hundred yards from them.

"WOO!"

Gigs laughed out as she zipped through the canyon to a lower pass, close to the drop off point were she would need to hide out.

The men in the back a bit frazzled by the fast pace combat and worrying excitement from their female pilot.

0600 Landing Spot

After securing their landing the group disbanded from the helicopter, Gaz who was familiar with helicopter trauma seemed ready to simply walk back to London at this point..

"Ill be here waiting for y'all" Gigs told them, The men nodding in understanding as they gave a short brief at the task at hand. However Soap eyes began to wonder over the female pilot specifically her ass.. Seeing how he couldn't tell if he saw attracted to her, attracted to the crazy- or both- however his wondering eye was quickly caught as she looked Soap immediately and locked eyes with him.

Soap felt a bit intimidated by how she looked him up and down, like she was mentally doing math on him.

"What?" He questioned, which seemed to make her smile.

"Youre goin on a date with me pretty boy" She said suddently, Patting his vested chest with a smirk before walking off.

"Pretty boy?" He scoffed, glancing around at the rest of the team staring at him and Alejandro suppressing giggles.

"How it feel Soap getting a date with her?" Gaz said as he slapped the man's back who was just now realizing what happened.

"I got a date?-" He innocently asked, looking to Ghost who nodded softly in confirmation.

"I got a date!?"

[beebeetheclown]

Hey! I have an imagine request for domonic from banshees

Hi thank you for this request💕

I was obsessed with Barry’s character in this film and am happy to write about him for you though I don’t write many imagines but I hope I did this right and you enjoy it🥰

Dominic Kearney Imagine

Dominic Kearney x reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Living alone had its pros and cons. You liked the quiet and it was just easier in general to live alone, but if you ever planned to go out for a long period of time, you always had to find someone to look over the house and take care of the three cows you had. You didn’t trust a lot of the people around you, you worried that they’d steal something when you were away or that they would do a poor job of looking after the cows. Dominic was the only one you really seemed to trust.

He didn’t live far from you, so you thought it wouldn’t be that much of a bother to make him be the one to guard the house and cows while you were away. He was always happy to do it as it always gave him something to do; he grew bored quite often.

As the two of you got to know each other more, he would sometimes stop by your house without telling you that he was coming over. He’d knock on the door and he would have a smile on his face every time you would open it for him.

“I hope I’m not being a bother to you.” He would say. You’d let him come into the house as he would keep you company wherever you felt lonely. Sometimes, you would let him stay for dinner or while you did house work. He talked a lot, sometimes he talked so much that he would just ramble on and on and you wouldn’t even really pay attention, you’d just nod your head and act like you were listening to him.

One time, he came out to help you with the cows. He pet them and helped you feed them. He helped you name the three cows, calling them Ferguson, Penelope, and Leonard. As he was petting Ferguson a thought came up and he shared it without thinking, it was a thing he always did, he would share his thoughts out loud without thinking first,

“Have you ever thought about having one of these guys for dinner? Ferguson looks like he'd make a good burger.”

“Dominic! Bloody hell, not ever have I thought like that.”

“Right, sorry, sorry. It was just a thought I had I guess. What’s for dinner anyways?”

“I don’t know, ask your father.”

“Can’t I just stay here? I’m sure you’re cooking up something better than my daddy.”

“Dominic, you have been staying for dinner for the past three days, I think it’s time you go back to your own place for dinner.”

He scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, okay, I guess you’re right. My daddy will probably like me to eat with him anyways. He always gets bored easily that one.” He took his hand off Ferguson and began to walk towards the gate, “Well, if you’re not having me for dinner, I guess I should be heading off then.”

“Okay, good bye Dominic.”

“Goodbye, do you think I could come by tomorrow?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I have quite a lot to do.”

“I could always help you out.”

“We’ll see okay? Now you get back home.”

He nodded his head a little, “Alright, I’ll get back home, Goodbye again.”

“Goodbye.”

He began to walk back home now and you watched him leave. The truth was that you didn’t think you could bear to have another meal with him, he talked so much even when he had taken bites of his food. Dominic always had so much to say. You needed to eat dinner in silence for once. You did like Dominic, but he was just a bit much at times.

On that same day, he came back to see you just as you were cleaning up the dishes. He knocked on the door four times before he began to call your name then he knocked on the door again. He kept hollering and knocking until you had opened the door. It was a little dark out now as the sun had set, but you could still see the scars on his face. The scars were not there earlier that day.

“Dominic, what’s happened to your face?”

“My daddy didn’t really like me sayin’ that I didn’t like his cooking. I guess it made him a little angry.” He said with an awkward little giggle. “I know I wasn’t supposed to come here but I didn’t want to stay with him.”

“Come in, come in. Let me fix you up.” You put a hand on his shoulder and allowed him to step inside your small home, “Sit right at the table, I’ll clean you up.”

With your hand still on his shoulder, you guided him over to the table and pulled a chair out for him and he sat. You went to the sink and got a clean washcloth and ran it under the water before walking over to him. You sat right next to him at the table and faced him. You brought the cloth to his face and lightly dabbed where his scars were, wiping away the blood. His blue eyes watched yours the whole time you cleaned up his scars.

“I hope I’m not being a bother to you.” He said quietly, “I guess I just didn’t really know where else to go.”

“No, not at all, don’t worry about it. I am always here to help you Dominic.”

“But why?”

You lower the cloth down into your lap and smile at him, “You help me with things like taking care of my cows and looking after the house when I’m gone.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You could tell he had something else t say but for once, he was hesitant.

“What is it?”

“What is what?”

“What is on your mind?”

“A lot of things.” He replied with a little grin, “Which would you like to know first.”

“You were hesitant about something, I could tell, what were you being so hesitant about.”

He inhaled, then let a sigh leave him, “I don’t know, you probably won’t like the idea very much.”

“Just tell me anyway.” You brought your thumb to brush over the scar that was on his cheek just below his eye.

It got quiet for a moment, “Do you think maybe I could, I don’t know, stay here for the night? My daddy is probably still angry with me for runnin’ out of the house, or he’s probably wanging himself to sleep.”

You couldn’t help but giggle a little at the last part, Dominic wasn’t very good at keeping private information to himself.

“Oh, I don’t know-”

“I can sleep right on that couch there, I won’t be a bother to you. I promise I don’t snore, at least I don’t think I do.”

You weren’t sure if you liked the idea of him spending the night, but you also didn’t want to force him to go back home, “Alright, but just for this one night and then you go back home.”

He got excited, “Really? No one’s ever let me have a sleepover before you know? Thank you!” He leaned over and gave you a hug. You were taken back by the hug at first but them hugged him back,

“Yes, you’re welcome, but just for this one night.”

“Just for this one night.” He repeated.

He got up when the hug ended and walked over to the small couch. He immediately lied down as soon as he got on it, “It is not as comfortable as I thought.”

“Well, would you rather sleep with the smelly old cows?”

“No, no. Don’t make me sleep with the cows. Here is just fine.” He sat up again, “It would be nice to have a blanket though.”

“This is no motel you know? I am not your servant.” You teased, “But I’ll get you some blankets, I won’t make you sleep cold.” You went to get him some extra blankets you had in your bedroom and when you brought them out to him, you sat down next to him, “I don’t have many extras, I hope this is enough.”

“I think it will be enough for me, thank you. I didn’t make you take blankets off of your bed did I?”

“No, I’ve got my own, you’re alright.” He fidgeted with his sleeves then looked at you deeply without saying anything, “What is it now?” You asked softly.

The next thing he did took you by surprise as you weren’t expecting it at all. He leaned in and kissed your lips. It was a very quick kiss; it was the type of kiss little elementary school children would give each other. You looked at him blankly, not knowing what to do or say.

“I’m sorry,” He said, “I’m sorry, that was silly of me wasn’t it?” He looked down at his lap then laughed a little, “I guess I’ve made a mistake haven’t I?”

You felt a little bad for him as you could tell he was embarrassed by his actions, “No, it’s okay. Don’t, uh, don’t worry about it.” The room got quiet for a moment, “I think I’ll be off to bed now.” You said.

“But it isn’t even late yet.”

You couldn’t help by lie to him, you felt a little awkward, “Yes, but I guess I’m just feeling very tired.”

“Oh, okay.” He replied, sounding a little disappointed, “Goodnight then I guess.”

“Goodnight Dominic.” You stood from the couch and when you made it a couple feet away from him he spoke again, “I didn’t make you dislike me did I?”

You turned to face him, “No, of course not Dominc. I’m fine, really. Just try and sleep now, okay?”

He nodded his head, “Okay, I will sleep now.”

When you made it back to your room, you stayed lying wide awake in your bed. You didn’t know how you felt about Dominic kissing you. You never thought of him that way, then again, you didn’t dislike feeling his lips on your lips.

Maybe you liked the kiss because you felt sorry for poor little Dominic, maybe you liked it out of sorrowness. Or maybe, you liked the kiss because you actually enjoyed it.

…

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Thank you @infernally-fond for the idea, this was super fun to write!

Read on AO3

-

As naive, foolish, and ludicrous (read: dangerous) as it may be, it's easy for Tav to forget that Raphael is a creature of evil, born from the Hells; ancient in comparison to anything or anyone she's ever known. He's good at pretending to be human, his facade so carefully crafted like the glow of an anglerfish's lure in the abyss. Come closer, it beckons, let down your guard.

She forgets he is a predator, and she is prey.

She forgets he is a monster.

When the bell rings through the House of Hope, it's dinner time. Tav makes her way to the dining area. Something doesn't feel right. The fireplace roars cosy as usual. Debtors fill their seats. Yet the table is empty. Raphael sits at its head, in front of the fire, his hands steepled. He smiles at her. His soft brown irises look black in the shadows that play across his handsome face. Flickering shadows that warp and stretch into grotesque shapes.

"There you are," he purrs. "We've been waiting. We couldn't eat until you arrived, and we are ever so hungry."

"Sorry, I..." Tav trails off. There's nowhere for her to sit. Every chair is taken.

"Is something the matter, dear?"

All of the debtors stare at her in silence. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rise. The room feels like it's slowly shrinking. The air is thick and hard to breathe. Her instincts shriek and holler. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!

"Actually, you know, I think I'm not hungry," Tav stutters. "I'll just. I'll go back to my room..."

She tries to leave. The doors close on their own before she even reaches them. She whips around to look at Raphael. Confused. Horrified. He's amused. Gleeful, almost.

Ravenous.

"I think you'll stay right here," he declares. He's still smiling. "You're the main course, after all."

Tav gets but a split second to comprehend those final six words. The devil clicks his fingers and she's on the table, on her back, naked and spread out like a choice cut. There are no chains, but she can't move. Can't struggle. Can't escape.

"No! Please!" She begs, eyes wide. "Please, stop! Let me go!"

She looks to the debtors, tries to implore them for help. For anything. They start laughing. All of them, like a murder of crows, and as they laugh, their skins slough away from their bones. Their eyes melt in their skulls. Their teeth shatter. Their tongues swell and burst and still they laugh.

Silly little girl.

Raphael looms over her. Wicked horns jut from his forehead. Eyes reptilian and yellow. His lips pull over glistening fangs. Red bleeds into his tawny skin. His hands burn as he drags them across her bare flesh. Long fingers end in sharp black claws that leave bloody welts in their wake.

"So beautiful," he croons, catching her tears on his fingertips. He puts them in his mouth, sucks them clean. "So delicious."

"Raphael, please," Tav sobs. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The Devil cups her cheek. He strokes it tenderly with his thumb. His other hand makes a cage above her heart. Five knife points pushing into her skin. "Because you let me."

Tav screams as he pulls out her heart. Effortlessly breaking through flesh and muscle and bone. He rips his prize free with brutal precision and holds it up, shows it to her as it keeps beating, dripping blood and tissue, swallowed by his huge palm. By his will, she realises, she isn't dead. He truly intends to eat her alive.

"Remember, little mouse," he says as she gapes in shock. He squeezes her poor heart, and he just keeps smiling. "This is mine."

Tav jerks awake. An aborted scream still in her aching lungs, thick in her throat. Body damp with cold sweat.

Just a nightmare. Vivid, but imaginary. She'll feel alright in a minute, when she's calmed down. Those familiar yellow eyes she can see glowing in the dark will disappear once she's properly awake. Only, she keeps blinking and they don't go away. In fact, they even blink back. As her eyes adjust she can make out the silhouette of someone sitting at the end of her bed. She inhales, sharp and stagnant, scrambling to light the lantern on her bedside table.

It's Raphael. Perched like a gargoyle. Human, though, eyes brown as if they always have been.

"Apologies," he coos, sounding anything but sorry. "Did I scare you?"

"Wasn't expecting to see you, is all," Tav mumbles. The nightmare has unsettled her. Raphael's presence, the idea that he's been watching her sleep, is setting her nerves on edge, but she won't tell him. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," he promises. Could be the truth. For some reason, Tav doubts it. "I thought I sensed distress, so I came to check on you."

"I'm fine. Just...a bad dream."

"Ah, we all have those from time to time." Tav briefly wonders what a devil's nightmare looks like. Decides she'd rather not know. Something about his tone is faintly suspicious. "Perhaps you'd feel better if I stayed here with you until morning, hm?"

"That's - you don't have to. I'm sure you've got better things to do..."

"Nonsense." The devil is already undoing his cufflinks. Tav watches helplessly as he shrugs out of his coat and boots. At the end of the day, he will do what he pleases. "Scoot over, won't you, pet?"

Tav reluctantly makes space. Raphael settles his hard, warm body up against hers, strong arms circling her waist, one heavy leg thrown over both of hers. Holding her down like she'd been pinned in the dream. It doesn't mean anything. One of his hands absently comes to rest over her pounding heart. Coincidence, surely. He presses his face into the crook of her neck and Tav can feel him smile.

"Go back to sleep, little mouse," he whispers into her ear. "You'll have sweet dreams this time, I promise."

Tav stays awake for the rest of the night.

[wynnyfryd]

🎵 Troll Toll 🎵

written for the @steddiemicrofic January prompt: ‘hole,’ 404 words | rated M | tags: future fic, crossover, crack treated ridiculously @griefabyss69 i hope you’re proud of yourself

Steve’s gonna kill Dustin.

Earlier this afternoon, on day five of visiting the kid in his new city (nevermind that Dustin’s pushing forty with two kids of his own; he’s always a kid to Steve), Eddie had started grumbling about how he wanted to see the real Philadelphia, not this “Liberty Bell Nic Cage pro America sanitized bullshit!” or whatever the fuck he liked to ramble about ever since his band got paid to do a commercial for Obama, and Dustin, who’d spent a month meticulously curating their tour of Philly’s finest cultural establishments, had rolled his eyes hard and pointed them toward a shady little Irish pub and hollered, “Fine! You want the real Philly? Go find her, you ungrateful dickheads, I’m going home!”

Which is how they found themselves here, at the worst goddamn musical Steve has ever seen.

“So, uh… just to be. So clear,” Eddie starts, dead-eyed stare into the middle distance as they filter out of the auditorium, the performers still screeching at each other loud enough to hear them from the sidewalk. He jams his thumb into the space between his furrowed brows. “Did I just take us to a play about child molestation? Is that- is that what just-?”

….Yeah.

Yeah, he definitely did — Steve’s pretty sure the little alcoholic guy who invited them to this thing spent most of act two singing about a boy’s hole — but Eddie looks as pale as the pair of goth weirdos standing behind them, so Steve aims for casual. Slurps the last of his Diet Coke and shrugs, “No, I think it was about, like, personal growth and shit.”

Eddie does not look reassured.

Behind him, the goth girl smacks a creepy balding guy upside the head and spits in a thick European accent, “Colin Robinson, why the hell did you bring us all the way to this terrible city just to watch this stee-upid bloody musical?”

“Oh, I don’t know, dahling,” the equally pale and dramatic man to her left chimes in, “I thought the Dayman reprise was, ah-rrRiveting-uh.”

Jesus Christ. Fucking theater people.

The balding guy doesn’t answer, but Steve swears he sees his eyes flash blue, and okay. Yeah, he’s had enough of the real city now, thank you very fucking much.

“Come on,” he says in a hush, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and trying his best to not freak out. “I’m calling us a cab.”

[blue-sadie]

Connection

Tonowari x Reader x Ronal

Prt 1. Prt 2

Summary: based off this post

Warning: none

Yn/3rd person pov

"Are we there yet" i smiled glancing at tuk as she cuddled into her mother "almost" jake murmured flying slightly closer to his mate and youngest.

"hopefully" lo'ak huffed rolling his eyes "hey lo'ak" I called gaining his and neteyams attention "let's race you to VS me" I laughed "let's go" lo'ak hollered "it's on" neteyam growled.

I quickly sped off with them chasing me as I turned and twisted around the few rocks before gaining altitude flying higher and higher "yn come back" neteyam yelled as they came to a stop just watching me.

I looked down at them "catch me" I whispered to my ikran before unlinking myself and letting go of her falling down "yn" lo'ak and neteyam screamed trying to catch me but I easily maneuvered myself away from them.

I let myself free fall just smiling at lo'ak and neteyam trailing behind me screaming at me to grab their hands, I rolled my eyes turning to the sea calling my ikran that swiftly came to my rescue.

"Such babies" I laughed settling back on to my ikran "oh fuck off" lo'ak muttered as jake and them caught back up to us "don't worry boys she did the same to me" jake grumbled making me stick out my tongue back at him.

The rest of the flight went smoothly as we got closer to the reef tribes "hi" I murmured waving down to the people below "finally we're here" jake smiled back at his family.

We came to a soft landing and I grabbed tuks hand as their started approaching us "no bow" jake hissed to neytiri "come tuk" I murmured slightly tugging her and I put my other hand out so the can see I have no weapon.

The people started to surround us and I watched with careful eyes as the chefs children approached us but my eyes widened as I saw the chef himself on a skimwing in his full glory.

He approached us with ease as we said our greeting my eyes trained to his glistening abs as he stood infront of us neytiri nudged me, I quickly shook off the feeling.

But it immediately returned as his wife ronal approached my breathing hitching as her eyes ran over me 'what am I doing' I turned my gaze to the floor till the interaction was over.

-Next day-

I smiled as I swam next to jake as we neared tonowari and a few of the other hunters my gazing being anywhere but tonowari, last night was hell I couldn't close my eyes because every time I did they were there.

"Maybe you should learn to ride the ilus first" tonowari murmured his voice filled with worry and concern "one thing you should know about toruk makto over here he lives on the line of death" I said teasing.

Jake huffed at me as we approached our untamed skimwings, mine was being held by tonowari and he smiled at me as I slowly climbed on "wrap this around your hand" he instructed "put your legs here" I gasped feeling his hand grab my leg.

"You have to keep this position to stay on" he murmured moving back away from me "let's go" I smiled as me and jake went off we first glided under water before resurfacing, I laughed as some water sprayed into my face.

"This is easy" I screamed but breaking in histerical laughter as jake went in again immediately getting flung off "loser" I murmured steading myself as I went in but did the same thing that jake did.

"Fuck" I cursed looking at my very bloodied hand "grab on" tonowari said as he swam up to me "I don't ne" I screamed as he pulled me onto his skimwing bringing us back to the village "ronal" he called dragging me to their family hut.

"What happened" she muttered grabbing my hand and bringing it to her face "I'm fin-" "no your not" tonowari murmured standing behind me and placing his hands on my hips keeping me still "this should help" ronal said picking up a bowl with a pasty substance.

She came close to me so we were only inches apart "this might sting" she warned looking into my eyes before applying "fuck" I cursed throwing my head back "shh shh" tonowari whispered.

"Here" ronal said wrapping the wound still standing infront of me I looked down at her my heart started racing as they stood in silence "w-we have something to speak with you about" ronal said breaking the silence.

"W-which is" I asked stepping aside to look at both of them "since your arrival we felt strange" tonowari explained "we felt like our bond wasn't full anymore".

"We felt like we were missing something, someone" ronal whispered gently grabbing my hands, blush dusted my cheeks running up to my ears "and that is" I asked my hope getting the best of me.

Ronal gently pecked my lips before tonowari as they stared down at me with love and care in their eyes.

"You"

Prt 2

Tag.List

@thatonepansexual2000

@virgocathaunted

[n0cturna1-m3]

Birthday Bash | Simon "Ghost" Riley x MacTavish!Male Reader | Fluff

Minors/Fem DNI

Request; "Kasey as my favourite person I think it would be so great if you did a Ghost x male reader where the reader is soaps brother and the reader and ghost have been secretly together" @ezranotbridger (you're too sweet 🤭)

Warnings; Uhh meeting family for the first time? unnamed family members. NON SEXUAL embarrassment, simon is FINE GUYS at the end of the day readers family LOVES HIM HE DOESNT HAVE A PANIC ATTACK I SWEAR

Synopsis; Happy Birthday! What a great surprise. Simon gets to meet his boyfriend's family. Nothing could possibly go wrong!

A/N; not dead, still writing, just without AC and i'm a lizard and need it to be freezing to function. also i graduated. also gost wasnt necessarily a secret, but close enough. ALSO THE HORROR OF FORGETTING TO CHANGE IT TO Y/N FROM MY OCS NAME AND ALMOST POSTING IT OMG I ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK

1.0k words

Ghost parked his car outside of a relatively small house and sighed, anxiously glancing at the front door and then at the small gift bag sitting on the passenger seat. He was nervous. This would be his first time meeting his boyfriend's family. While they had been dating for nearly a year, Ghost hadn't had much time available to introduce himself. But it was Y/N’s birthday, and he wouldn’t miss it. He refused to.

He was wearing a black t-shirt, no mask, and curly blonde hair tousled from trying to make himself appear more put together before eventually giving up. He was Simon today. Still, he was determined, albeit anxious, to leave his car and knock on the front door. Simon took a shaky breath before grabbing the gift and sliding out of the car, locking it behind him and pocketing the key.

Simon walked up to the front door and hesitated before rapping the heavy wooden door. He could hear the people inside chatting loudly and the loud footsteps of someone rushing to grab the door. It swung open revealing a young woman with brown hair and blue eyes. She stared at him a moment, looking him up and down before she turned back to the house, hanging herself out the doorway.

“Y/N! Did ya invite some wide fella?” she hollered.

Wide? Simon thought. I’m not wide.

Moments later Y/N shoved the woman out of the doorway and beamed at Simon, throwing himself at him and ignoring the girls cursing.

“I’m so happy you made it!” he said, kissing Simon’s cheek. Simon smiled softly.

“Wouldn’t miss it, love.”

“Come in! I wanna introduce you.”

Y/N led Simon into the living room and open kitchen/dining area where his immediate family and close friends were gathered. There were too many of them.

An older man and woman sat at the dining table, Simon assumed they were Y/N’s parents. Two women around Y/N’s age sat with the couple. On the couch were three of Y/N’s friends, two of which he had met previously. Across from them was a young teenager, likely a nephew, and another man around Y/N’s age.

Y/N began pointing out his family members and friends, naming them each while they smiled and gave small waves that Simon nervously nodded along with. The youngest was indeed his nephew, his eldest sister's child. He was the only child allowed to show because he had insisted on meeting his favourite uncle's boyfriend, stating he had to “make sure he wasn’t a total mink.”

“I’m not sure where the other one is,” Y/N said, rubbing the back of his neck. He sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to him.

“The other one?” Simon asked as he sat down.

“Aye, my baby brother.”

“The loo,” Y/N’s youngest sister said.

“Don’t be laughin’ at me!”

Simon froze at the voice behind him. He covered his face and rested his elbows on his knees and exhaled deeply. Y/N placed a hand on Simon’s back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. Simon cracked his fingers open and turned to look at Y/N.

“No way!” the man said, a laugh at the back of his throat.

“Bloody hell…” Simon muttered, shaking his head.

“What’d you do to him, John?” their mother asked, a slightly worried look on her face.

“Nothing! I did nothing!” John insisted as he walked around the couch and stood in front of Simon. “The hell are you doing here, Ghost?”

Y/N's jaw dropped and he turned to stare at Simon.

“You’re lying!” Y/N said, going back to looking at his brother.

“I amn’t!” John shot back.

Simon finally sat up and let his hands fall into his lap. His face was red.

“You’re dating my brother!?” Y/N’s nephew began giggling behind his phone. The man beside him hit his shoulder only causing him to laugh more, leading to him laughing as well.

Simon rubbed his eyes as if he had a migraine.

“You’re dating-” John’s face suddenly fell from his teasing grin and he covered his mouth. Simon stared at his shoes. Y/N stared at his brother.

“What’s wrong wit you now?” he asked. The suppressed giggles were starting to spread through the living room.

“This whole time you been talkin’ about my brother…”

Y/N’s jaw dropped and he slowly turned his head to Simon, who had turned away from Y/N and was covering his mouth. The nephew was now openly cackling. He sounded like a crow.

“I’m gonna be sick,” John stated before walking into the kitchen.

“What have you been talkin’ about Simon,” Y/N said. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down Simon’s spine. Y/N’s entire family was giggling or hiding their laughter behind their hands. Y/N stood and grabbed Simon’s shoulder. “Come on, love.”

Simon stood and obediently followed Y/N as he led him to the other side of the house. The family quieted and attempted to listen in but only heard whispers until Y/N yelled “You told him THAT?!”

They immediately burst into laughter, clinging to the couch or each other so as to not double over. John muttered something along the lines of “It’s not funny” under his breath, but it went unnoticed.

The couple returned to the room and the crowd quieted. Simon was beet red. Y/N sat him down and then walked to where John was leaning against the sink.

“The next time I hear of you asking questions like that to anyone I will personally deliver your arse whooping,” Y/N stated before he turned and walked to his mother. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear that turned her ears red. She whispered something back to Y/N who nodded and kissed her cheek before he walked back to sit next to Simon, placing a hand on his thigh and smiling as his mother turned to John.

“John MacTavish, we will be talking later.”

John nodded shamefully and turned around, walking to the dining table and taking a seat.

“Now, who wants cake?” she asked, clasping her hands together and standing. Immediately ‘yes' filled the room.

“Simon!” Y/N’s father said. The blonde turned to him, face still pink. “We’d love to have you over again sometime soon.”

Simon nodded.

“I’m not mad wit you, by the way,” Y/N said. He placed his hand in Simon’s and intertwined their fingers.

“I know,” Simon responded. Y/N smiled and kissed his cheek before he jumped into one of the conversations happening around him.

[impala-dreamer]

Cherry Wine

A Tale from the 'My Bloody Valentine' Universe

~Tom left town in a hurry, escaping capture by faking his death. On the run and distraught, he finds comfort in the arms of a stranger.~

Tom Hanniger x Rose (OFC)

2,453 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Sexual Scenes. Torture. Bondage. Psychosis. Movie Level Blood and Gore.

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "Be good for me and I'll untie you."

This takes place immediately after the film and shows Tom still dealing with his issues, namely murder. If you're unfamiliar with the movie, I doubt it will matter. Just know that he is insane and dangerous. Hope you enjoy!

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he couldn't go home.

He didn't even know where home was anymore. Was it back in Harmony surrounded by memories and the corpses of his childhood? Or back in the hospital with all of his twisted pain and overly medicated thoughts?

He didn't know.

So he drove.

He drove until the sun rose and hung high in the sky, blossoming over the Pennsylvania landscape like the face of God. Bright and warm, it beat down on the maroon truck as trees blurred in his peripheral.

When the gas tank was as empty as his stomach, he pulled off of the interstate and parked, taking only his wallet and jacket with him.

The late afternoon was warm. February had been uncharacteristically mild, and he tugged at the collar of his sweatshirt, readjusting the hood behind his head.

Bill’s Diner was open and crowded. Tables lined the big front window, each red vinyl booth filled with locals who chatted over never-ending cups of coffee and plates of over-done french fries.

A little bell rang overhead as he walked in, and a pretty brunette with long hair pulled back into a tight bun smiled.

“Sit anywhere, hun,” she called to him while navigating the sea of tables with her hands full.

Tom nodded and looked around for an empty spot before deciding on a stool at the counter. He sat and slumped forward, clasped his hands on the sticky linoleum. He stared at his hands, willing the trembling to cease, but it never really went away. He was always just a little bit anxious, some part of him always shaking even if no one else saw.

Trauma had slashed at his soul and the scars ran deep.

A deep breath steadied him and Tom looked up as the waitress came into view.

“Hey there. Welcome to Bill’s. Can I getcha something to drink?”

Her smile was captivating. Her two front teeth were adorably bigger than the rest and her plump bow lips were tinted gently with a red gloss that made them look forever wet.

He couldn’t help but stare.

She blinked and looked away, pale skin blushing a soft pink under his gaze. Bright blue eyes gleamed when she turned back and Tom’s chest ached.

She reminded him of Sarah but a little plainer, a little softer all over.

“Hello?”

She waved a hand in front of his face and Tom startled, sitting up straight and shaking his head to clear his vision.

“Sorry,” he said with a sigh. “Long drive.”

The waitress nodded and grabbed a mug from below the counter. “I bet.” She filled it with coffee and slid it to Tom who smiled and closed his hands around the cup. “You coming or going?”

He bit his lip, wondering how to answer. Where was he coming from? Where was he going? To hell, probably.

Tired green eyes swept over her. The plastic buttons on her white shirt were tiny and struggling to keep the thin fabric from pulling open across her breasts. Her dark jeans were tight and dusted with flour and a few drops of marinara that had slipped past her black apron. Her curves were decadent and she smelled like vanilla.

He cleared his throat. “Just passing through.”

She smiled kindly and laid a plastic covered menu next to his coffee.

“Well, alright then, stranger. My name’s Rose. When you’re ready, just holler.” She winked and turned away, leaving him to scan the day’s specials alone.

The giant clock in the corner ticked the hours away. Customers came and went. Coins were dropped; tips were thin. Empty plates smeared with ketchup stacked up in the kitchen; spilled salt was wiped from table tops with a dingy rag.

Rose was busy most of the evening, but never too busy to stop back at the counter and talk with Tom. She lingered near him, pretending to clean while they chatted about how it hadn’t snowed in a few weeks and how the price of gas was going down a bit. She was sweet and Tom liked being near her. She was beautiful and her voice was like a calm breeze that lulled and comforted him.

When the windows were dark and the fuchsia neon glowed bright, Rose set her hands on the counter and looked down at him.

“Closing time, buddy. You don’t have to go home, butcha can’t stay here.”

He looked up through thick lashes and smiled flirtatiously. “Already?”

Rose licked her lips. “Sadly, yes. All good things must come to an end. Or so I’m told.”

“That’s a shame.” Without looking away, he drained the sweet swill from the bottom of his mug. “There any place to get a drink around here?” He paused, calculating her interest, and then went for it. He had nothing to lose. “Or maybe I could walk you home…”

Rose’s cheeks burned and her smile was impossible to hide. “Maybe both.”

Tom rolled onto his back and stretched, rolling his head on his shoulders and taking a deep breath. He hadn’t slept so well in a long time; hadn’t felt so good in forever.

Rose had been just what he needed.

They sat on her cinnamon couch and drank sparkling pink wine. Tom hated it, but the bubbles felt nice and each sip seemed to loosen her up a bit more.

When the bottle was empty and the glasses drained, Rose scooted closer and set her hand on Tom’s knee. He bit his lip as her fingers climbed higher, held his breath as she palmed his dick through his jeans, let his eyes close as she climbed into his lap.

She was heavy and warm. He ran his hands down her sides, slid his fingers around the curve of her waist. She pressed her ass down over him and rolled her hips.

He hissed at the friction and pushed a hand through her long hair, dragging her down for a kiss.

Her lips were plump and delicious. The gloss on her mouth tasted so familiar to him but he couldn’t place it.

“I never do this,” she whispered, half laughing as she ran her hands down his chest.

Tom grinned and traced the soft flesh above her jeans. “I don’t know, you’re pretty good at it.”

She chewed her lip and blushed. “I mean, take customers home. I haven’t done this in forever.”

He stared deep into her eyes and popped the bottom button of her shirt. “Well, I’m glad you decided to.” He scraped his nails down her sides and Rose’s head tipped back, her eyes fluttered shut, she hummed lustfully.

“Me too…”

He smiled and tossed the sheet off of himself; sat up and scrubbed a hand down his face. He’d have to shave soon, but it wasn’t a priority. He scratched at his scalp and yawned.

“Mornin’.”

Tom sucked a strawberry nipple between his lips and melted at the sound she made. Rose arched her back, pushing her tits against his face and grinding down on his cock.

They were mostly naked, shirts and jeans tugged away and tossed into random corners of the small living room. Only thin fabric separated them now, and Tom rubbed his middle finger against her covered slit. Her raspberry panties were soaked.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

Rose nibbled on his ear. “Wanna see the bedroom?”

He jerked his hips, bounced her in his lap. “Absolutely…”

The bedroom was flooded with mid-day sun that filtered through the thin curtains, and he stood up in a sun puddle, feeling the warmth instantly. He sighed and walked to the adjoining bathroom.

The tile floor was freezing and he tiptoed in, pulled back the shower curtain and turned on the tap.

“You don’t mind if I take a quick shower, do you?”

She was total perfection.

Stretched out over the bed, her pale skin looked like fresh cream against the burgundy sheets. She moaned as he tied the silken sash tight around her left wrist, squirmed as he leaned over her to secure the right.

“Another thing I never do,” she teased, reaching with her mouth to catch a kiss.

“What’s that? Let a stranger tie you up?” His smile was devilish yet sweet and he gave in to a deep kiss.

“Not exactly a safe thing to do…”

He licked into her mouth; savored the taste of her. “No,” he laughed, pulling back to look down at her. “It’s really not.”

Blue eyes fluttered as Tom drew his hands down her nakedness. He cupped each breast, pinched her nipples, scraped his teeth against the stiff buds.

“Fuck, you’re driving me nuts,” she whimpered, tugging at the restraints, needing to touch him.

He settled between her thighs, his broad shoulders pushing them open wide. “That’s kinda the point.”

His tongue burned like fire against her clit. He nuzzled into her, lapped at her slick heat, teased her to the edge of ecstacy.

Rose bucked her hips into his handsome face, held her breath as he slipped two thick fingers inside. Her body tensed. Her mind blanked. Her pulse quickened.

“Fuck. Please…”

Again, she tugged at the sashes holding her tight and Tom lifted his eyes. He grinned at her struggle.

“Be good for me,” he breathed, “and I’ll untie you.”

Heavy, warm steam filled the room as Tom lingered by the sink. He toyed with her toothbrush, sifted through her medicine cabinet. There wasn’t much inside and everything was expected. Floss, antibiotic ointment, a few hairpins. Half a bottle of aspirin, tweezers, lotion.

He smiled. Her skin was so soft.

He slipped in like a knife through warm butter, filling her up with his thick cock.

Tom thrust against her; dug his fingertips into the soft flesh above her hip bones. “Fuck, you’re amazing,” he moaned, his eyes closed, head thrown back as her body tightened around him.

Rose held her breath, wriggling harder beneath him with each jerk of his hips.

“Please!”

He looked down at her wet, ruby lips and smiled. Leaning down, he folded her nearly in half and scratched hard down her sides. She squirmed and garnet lines erupted in his wake.

“So gorgeous…”

His pace quickened. She moaned loudly over the sound of his thighs slapping against her ass.

“Please!”

Each scream egged him on. Every twist of her body beneath him made his heart race.

Rose was panting, choking on her pleasure as he fucked deep into her.

“Tom-”

He closed a hand around her delicate throat, massaged the sacred arteries on either side.

She thrashed against the bindings; eyes wide and lips growing pale.

He squeezed harder and he felt her cunt pulse as she came. Blue eyes were fading in a sea of wine, blood vessels bursting as his grip tightened.

“That’s it,” he grit, riding her through the pleasure. “Just like that. Fuck!”

Tom closed the cabinet door. He swept away the fog with his palm and looked into his own eyes. He was happy, sated and beaming.

His lips were ruddy and swollen a deep red. He pressed his fingertips to them and sighed. He could still feel her kiss, taste her on his tongue.

She tasted like cherry wine.

He kissed her gently yet deeply, memorizing the feel of her plush lips against his and the way she melted into him. His cum ran down her leg, warm and messy.

He pulled away and rolled onto his side, yanked the thin sheet up around his shoulders.

She slept soundly; he mumbled in his sleep.

Tom stepped into the hot water and moaned happily. The pressure was sublime. Water pounded his aching muscles, burned his skin blissfully.

He ran his hands through his hair and turned around to face the spray. It washed down his cheeks, flowed into his mouth. He looked down at the drain and gasped as a whirlpool of crimson swirled around the chrome and disappeared.

“The fuck?”

His mind raced.

His hands were stained with dried blood; his forearms scored with claw marks.

He panicked, panting as the water washed the night away and his memory returned.

He ripped through her skin like a knife through warm butter.

Tom jabbed the blade into her; dug the tip into the soft flesh above her hip bones.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, green eyes wide as he watched the blood flow from her sides.

Rose gasped for a breath and wrenched her arms free of the silk sashes. She slapped at his chest, shoved his face away.

“Please!”

He looked down at her gaping ruby lips and smiled. With a murderous gleam in his eyes, he scratched hard down her side with the knife and watched the garnet stream erupt in his wake.

“So gorgeous…”

She kicked at him, summoning all of her strength to push him off even as her energy seeped away and soaked into the sheets. “Please!”

Each scream egged him on. Every twist of her body beneath him made his heart race and his cock twitch.

Barely able to breathe, Tom burst from the shower and steadied himself on the sink, knuckles blanching as he held on tight. He forced himself to look at his reflection and nearly broke as he saw the lingering blood on his cheeks. The splatter had been fast and furious- an arterial spray that painted his face from temple to chin.

“Fuck…”

He closed his left hand around her delicate throat, harshly pinching the sacred arteries on either side.

Rose clawed at his arms, drawing blood as she fought for her life.

He squeezed harder and felt her pulse slow. Blue eyes were fading in a sea of wine, blood vessels bursting as his grip tightened.

“That’s it,” he grit, lifting the knife to her jaw. “Just like that.” He sliced through her vocal chords, silencing her cries forever. A sanguine tide covered her milky breasts, stained his steady hands.

Through a cloud of steam, Tom stumbled back into the bedroom and bit back a scream.

Rose was laid out on the right side of the bed, her naked body posed as if sleeping. Her throat was torn, her sides split, chest carved open exposing the pale bones caging her heart.

He swallowed down a wave of bile and fell to his knees.

“Not again…”

Above the bed, drawn in Rose’s blood, was a simple heart.

Tom laughed as the last bit of life drained from her beautiful face. He bent to kiss her cold lips, savoring the last taste of her, memorizing the soft push of her lips.

He licked the blood from his fingertips as he rolled over, tired and sated.

She tasted like cherry wine.

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[cal-flakes]

[warm hands, part one]

warnings: light swearing, alcohol consumption

rafe’s eyes narrowed as his grasp on the red solo cup tightened, observing patiently as he watched the girl shrink against the wall, backing away from the boy cornering her. his jaw clenched incessantly, so much he ran a quick hand over the muscle, easing its oncoming ache.

his gaze never moved from the interaction before him, too fixated on the possibility that if he was to look elsewhere, something bad might happen.

the feeling pooling in his stomach was inexplicable, what the hell had gotten into him? rafe cameron, giving anyone a second thought? - and a maybank, at that. yet he couldn’t help himself, instinctively pushing away from the table, surrounded by kooks, ignoring topper’s calls for him to come back.

the next hour or so was a complete blur, but he soon found himself ushering her to his car, brushing over her pleas to patch up his now bloody knuckles. “just let me take you home, alright? i’ll be fine” he groaned, already fed up with her whiny apologies.

“you didn’t have to do that for me” she sighed, shuffling as close to the passenger door as she possibly could while she stole glances at him, nervously anticipating the real rafe.

fortunately for her, the ‘real’ rafe, wasn’t what she’d assumed, more so — what she’d been told, stories dramatised by her brother and his friends.

the real rafe, was sweet — and kind, and bought her flowers when she was upset, and— she could go on forever. but oh, how beautiful he was when the sun peaked through his bedroom blinds, hair untidily splayed across his face while his warm hands lay over her exposed stomach, tracing half-awake patterns along her abdomen.

a sleepy grin crept across her face as she propped herself up, nudging him gently under the covers. “rafe..” she croaked, brushing away the strands of hair covering his eyes.

she giggled as a tired groan escaped his lips, mumbling incoherently against the pillow. “dude— c’mon..wake up! i have to leave soon and I’ll be damned if i spend the time we have left next to your deadweight” she whined, tugging at his arm childishly.

“did you just call me dude?” he questioned, cocking an eyebrow of disapproval. giggling, she mimicked his expression as she slipped out from the covers, feeling around on the floor for her clothes. sighing, he brought a hand up to pinch the bridge if his nose. “why do you have to leave?”

“y’know, my brother like, kinda hates you? and i’m sure as hell he’d rip my ears off if he knew where i was” she laughed, ignoring the hurt feeling inching across her heart. deflated, rafe lay back on the pillow, frowning. “if your brother wasn’t such an asshole, we wouldn’t have this problem..”

brows raised, she swatted at his strong chest, prompting him to hold his hands up in apology. “whatever, are you going to the bonfire tonight?” she asked, a small smile on her face as she raked her fingers through his hair. “probably not, i’ve got shit to do here” he nodded, gesturing with his hands as he explained. “well, if you decide to come, call me okay?”

“sure, let me know when you get home yeah?”

—

the walk back to the cut was tiring for most, but for her it was refreshing, she felt as though so was walking on clouds, so unbelievably elated. he was just so dreamy, and nothing like she’d heard, and the last four months she’d spent with him since that party? — it was the best she’d ever felt.

turning her attention back to the small dingy footpath, she headed for the chateau. there was little point in going home, jj was never there, and unless she was specifically looking for her father, there wasn’t much to find.

her brows furrowed as she neared the house, unnerved by the lack of constant hoots and hollers.

leaves rustled beneath her feet as she rounded the cabin, the porch windows coming into her view, and just as she thought — jj was there.

“yo, where the hell have you been?” he called, spotting her immediately before jumping up to meet her in the doorway, drawing attention from the rest of the pogues, prompting them to smile and wave. “me? i’ve been at valerie’s, i fell asleep last night when we were studying..” she spoke, lying through her teeth.

unconvinced, her brother’s eyes narrowed as his head whipped from her to the others. “you spend a lot of time with valerie huh?” he queried. “yeah? obviously? we study together” she stated, self-consciousness creeping up her neck as the others watched the interaction intently.

“you see, sister, i’ve still never met valerie, and to be honest, it’s a little suspicious…don’t you think guys?” he spoke, turning back to john b for back up, yet frowned as his friend simply shrugged, broken down by his current situation with sarah.

“it’s not suspicious jay, you’re just weird” kie argued, coming to the younger maybank’s rescue, earning a small smile of gratitude. “hmm, either way, i wanna meet her” he joked, circling the girl. “y’know, protective brother shit and all”

sighing, she slumped back into a chair, relief washing over her, thankful that kiara had gotten him to stop pushing the idea.

“are you guys going to the bonfire tonight?” she squeaked, picking at her nails anxiously. her head perked up, noticing the exchange of uncertain glances between them.

“i don’t know guys, I’ve got to figure this cross out..” pope groaned, his gaze fixed on the ancient pages in his grasp. “ahh, c’mon man, think about how much you could think, if you just gave your brain a rest!” jj explained, grinning mischievously as john b and kie leaned closer, prompting an answer.

“okay, fine” pope sighed, earning excited yells from the others as y/n simply eyed them, confused. “cross? what cross?” she asked, her eyes flickering to the diary in pope’s hand.

“all will be revealed in due course, sister, now c’mon! bonfire time!” he breathed, slinging an arm around her as he guided her to follow them to the twinkie. “wait!” he shouted suddenly, startling her. “what is it now jj?” kiara groaned, desperate to get a move on. “we gotta shotgun before we go” he stated, twirling on his feet to grab the last few cans from his six pack.

—

“okay, but dude, her father blew up— right in front of her, just give her some time!” jj spoke, patting john b on the back as they pushed through the crowed, glancing back every few moments to ensure y/n was still behind them, her hands clutching jj’s shirt.

“aaaand, we’re out of here, good luck with that one bro..” jj chuckled, pushing john b towards the girl perched on the side of the rocks.

“i need a drink..” y/n sighed, tugging jj to follow her to the makeshift drinks table on the other side of the fire.

—

“okay, seriously though— who’s valerie?” kiara joked, wiggling her eyebrows as she nudged the girl. “valerie’s my friend kie, we study together, that’s it..” y/n sighed, brushed a few hairs out of her face as she eyed the crowds, mentally wishing for rafe to turn up.

she knew he wouldn’t, he had a lot going on— especially with the recent passing of his father, but she couldn’t subside the selfish thoughts of wanting him to be there.

“hmm, whatever you say..” kiara hummed, smirking slightly, still unconvinced.

most of the night was spent laughing, drinking and smoking, rolling her eyes at jj’s constant re-enactments of old stories. it was fun, but she couldn’t help but feel like she’d have much more fun elsewhere, with him. it was almost a guilty feeling, she was fraternising with the enemy, or that’s how jj would put it. and she knew, that it would crush him to find out where his sister was sneaking off to every other night, to find out who valerie really was, but she was happy, and she wanted it to last as long as possible without interference.

but the laughing, drinking, and smoking— was just the calm before the storm. her face suddenly contorted as the warmth of her brother was quickly ripped away, her eyes flickering to him as he dashed through the crowd, followed by pope and kiara.

“what the hell..” she muttered, tossing the empty can away before rushing after them, only to find herself in the middle of a kook vs pogue brawl.

“jj! no!” she yelled, her arm moving to grab his shirt instinctively as he threw himself between john b and topper. “y/n don’t, you’ll get yourself hurt..” pope spoke, pulling her back towards him and kiara, watching as john b, jj, topper and kelce pushed and shoved one another around the bonfire. she shrieked suddenly as she saw sarah fall to the ground, finding herself rushing to cameron’s side.

“sarah! are you okay?” she spoke, exasperated as she struggled against the push of the growing crowd. reaching down, she helped the girl to her feet as kiara rushed over also, shielding the pair from the fight.

“where the fuck is y/n!” she heard jj yell over the crowd, searching for her, ducking between multiple arms being thrown. “she’s over here!” kiara called back, waving an arm in the air before ushering y/n away, guiding her to the twinkie. she nodded as sarah gave the pair an apologetic smile, before she disappeared back into the crowd.

—

“it was horrible! jj’s got a huge gash in his face, me and kiara just spent ages cleaning the blood off the pair of them!” she cried through the phone, prompting his heart to ache at her teary voice. “i’m sorry you had a bad time sweetheart..” he croaked, voice jittery and trembling. “wait— are you okay?” she asked, concern washing over her for the umpteenth time that night as she lay under the covers of her temporary bed in the chateau’s spare room.

“i’m fine, look, i’ve gotta go, alright?” he rushed, ending the phone call abruptly before the scraping sound of a credit card could meet her ears.

huffing, she tossed her phone aside, shaking away the anxious thoughts as she sank further into the sheets, letting the tiredness take over, finally.

[sturnsluv]

meddle about pt. 1

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when Y/N finds herself falling for her big brothers life-long enemy, will she choose love or family?

warnings: mentions of blood

⭒˚.⋆

3:43 pm

I watched Matt storm off, blood dripping from his nose, and chest heaving like some sort of MMA fighter after a match. My head whipped back towards my brother, who stood there like he was some sort of god, shoulders broad, face solemn, and that same bloody nose leaking wine-looking stains all over his white shirt.

“What the hell Jack!” I shouted. This is all they ever do: fight, fight, and fight. My brother Jack and Matthew Sturniolo have hated each other for as long as I can remember, which I completely understand. Matt’s an insufferable dickhead with an ego the size of the Titanic. Despite my best efforts to avoid him, I always manage to find myself around him, caught in the crossfire of their endless feud.

Matt’s brother Nick has been my best friend since 2nd grade when he punched a boy who made fun of the tiara I wore to school that day. Since then, I have been forced into a house that always consists of Matt. Although my hatred partly came from my loyalty to my big brother, Matt’s attitude had a way of making me hate him all by myself. Like all the times he’s made snide comments about Jack’s ability on the hockey team. Or the way he looks at me like his eyes are bullets piercing into my skin with every remark he makes. 

“What? he was being a dick!” Jack hollered back, his face contorting with a mix of confusion and anger. His short, permed, brunette hair fell messily in front of his eyes, and the back stuck up all which ways. He stood tall like Dad, but his green eyes came from our Mother. 

“Mom is going to kill you Jackson,” I say through gritted teeth, my frustration with their constant fighting boiling over. Mom had explicitly warned Jack that the next fight with Matt would result in him being done with hockey, but it seemed like these two senseless men couldn't keep their hands off each other, no matter the consequences.

Jack only had the energy to roll his eyes at me and stumble away, most likely to go clean up his battered face. I sighed in frustration, feeling the weight of our recurring “Sturniolo” drama settling in once again. Ignoring the turmoil brewing inside me, I reached down to my back pocket and pulled out my phone, immediately clicking on Nick’s contact.

Y/N:

our stupid brothers fought again 🥱

nick😛:

you HAVE to be fucking kidding me.

Y/N:

I wish I were bro

Nick😛: 

at this point I think they’re secretly in love and this is all a cover up

I giggle to myself cause honestly, he’s probably right. Nick always has the perfect way of making me laugh, and he’s one of the only people in my life I never feel judged around. Nick has held me as I cried and laughed with me hours later over the stupid boys who’ve broken my heart. He’s even forced Matt to pick me up after I had been stranded at parties or events. Overall, he’s always been there for me. I have other friends of course, but those friendships have never felt real to me, always one-sided on my part. 

 Looking up I slide my phone back into my pocket and begin the most dreadful trek across the football field. Okay, that was dramatic but looking for Jack isn’t exactly something I'm up for right now. Tonight is going to be restless from the amount of bickering I'm about to hear from him and Mom. The house was already loud enough with Mom and Dad fighting. Ever since I was eight years old, Mom and Dad haven’t gotten along. They’ve tried almost everything to mend their marriage. Even couples counseling, but nothing ever worked, so me and Jack just have to deal with it.

 I sigh to myself as my mind races, and the gentle trudge across the field continues toward the locker room, where I assume I’ll find my brother. But the fighting won't even be the worst part of it all. The worst part will be tomorrow when I'm over at Nick’s house, hearing Matt bitch and moan about Jack. I swear every time I’m around him I have to fight the urge to strangle him. All he talks about is the stupid cheerleaders he’s hooking up with, or lacrosse this, hockey that. His voice is unbearable and it’s genuinely the reason I question if I want to go over every time Nick asks. 

Suddenly I'm broken out of my thoughts when I hear my name called from behind me. I turn around and see the one and only center of my anger. Matt. His voice cuts through the tension-filled air like a knife. His expression is unreadable, but his body language exudes a mix of exhaustion and hesitation.

“What do you want?” I yell back at him. He’s standing about twenty feet away from me with the same bloody face he had about thirty minutes ago. My face drops when he starts to jog towards me and I’m filled with a feeling of ‘please leave me alone.’ 

As Matt gets closer the sound of his sneakers hitting the wet, sloshy turf rises, and so does my frustration. “You have a ride home?” He breathes out, panting lightly. Matt places a hand on his knee to steady himself, while the other scratches the back of his neck. His face is flushed and red. The fight obviously damaged him, and he looked nervous to be standing in front of me.

“That’s seriously all you wanted?” My face gains a snarky scowl and I look him up and down, noticing the way his hand is running through the hairs at the back of his neck and the way he lightly taps his foot on the ground. It's apparent he’s on edge, which I assume is because of the fact he just beat my brother's ass, but I couldn’t care less about either of them right now. I mean I do love my big brother, but not when he’s acting so prideful after doing something so wrong. Even if he wasn’t the one to initiate it. Matt’s loud but unsteady voice cuts off my thoughts.

“Well I just assumed Jack left, and Nick's order is to always look after you, even if I want to kick your face in,” He exclaims as he smiles sarcastically at me. I scoff and look away mumbling a quick ‘I’m good’ under my breath. I hear him start to speak, but I cut him off by turning around and continuing my path toward the locker room. I assume at that moment he turns as well, going off in search of his car.

As I walk away my feet drag against the turf, little beads coming up beneath me and I’m overwhelmed with strange, alluring thoughts of Matt’s bloody face. 

⭒˚.⋆

11:47 pm

God, will they ever shut up? I listen to Mom’s and Jack’s muffled voices from the kitchen. Tossing and turning in my bed, I put my fluffy, pink pillow around my ears to attempt to surround myself in silence. That doesn’t work as the pillow is too thin, and the yelling continues pounding into my eardrums. 

When the school called earlier and told our parents what happened, Mom was pissed immediately. Even though the fight was after school hours, it still took place on “school property” so both Jack and Matt ended up suspended. On any normal occasion, I’d be delighted to hear about Matt’s suspension (as it happens quite frequently), but now that Jack’s involved I think I might go insane. His presence in the chaos only amplifies the tension in our home.

But I keep thinking about Matt, and what he said to me. He’s usually not the type of guy to walk over offering any type of help. He’s one of those mysterious types of guys who always get into trouble, even though you barely see them talk. I think it’s all an egotistical act he does to seem tough. Whenever I’m at Nick’s he’s hidden away in his room playing video games made for children. It’s so out of character of him to even think of me and the more I contemplate, I can’t help but grin. Sitting up on my mattress I slap my face. What the fuck am I thinking? Nothing about Matt Sturniolo should be making me smile. Not the way his hair flops in front of his eyes, or the way his mouth lifts to the side when he smiles. Even the way his arms flex when he wraps his hands around a lacrosse stick. Ew! What am I doing? 

I lay my head back on my pillow, letting the thoughts of Matt drift out of my mind. My brain starts to calm and just as I’m about to fall asleep- Ding! 

“Ugh,” I verbally groan at the sound of my phone snapping me back awake. I reach my hand out and turn it over, and the bright screen practically blinds me. As my eyes start to adjust I’m finally able to see what the message is.

Matt Sturniolo: 

hey I gotta ask you something

⭒˚.⋆

a/n: first chapter lmk what you guys think! 😊 comment to be on my taglist!