#i just needed to draw this before i explode

[y3sterdaysproblem]

how does toxicfwb chris put toxicfwb reader in her place (i need to be put down right now)

cw: established safeword, slapping, choking, face fucking, spanking, fuuuucking

“get the fuck away from me,” you grumble, shoving chris away from you aggressively from where you stood, head peering around your tv in your bedroom as you tried to figure out why the fuck it wasn’t working properly.

“i’m trying to fucking help you,” chris snaps, tone irritated, which in turn makes you more irritated as well. “well you mouth breathing down my neck isn’t fucking helping me, it’s just pissing me off,” you spit back at him, turning to glare at him.

“okay,” he laughs bitterly, nodding his head. “so you’re just in the mood to be a bitch right now, then?” your heart rate picks up at his comment and you have to squeeze your eyes shut for a moment to not feel like you were going to explode. “christopher,” you start slowly, peeling your eyes open to look at him again, gaze landing on his sudden cringe from you using his full name. “back up and leave me alone before i smack the fuck out of you.”

his eyes widen, but not in a way that shows fear, more of an amused expression taking over his features. he’d love to see you pull some shit like that. “you need to calm down,” he warns and this sets you off, sending you charging towards him with a hand wound up behind you and ready to strike him wherever you could reach.

as your hand flies down, he reaches up to grab your wrist and it all happens so quickly, the way he spins you around and pins your arm behind your back, walking you a few steps until your chest was pressed against the wall, his body flush against yours. “drop the attitude,” he demands, his voice sending tingles down your spine.

“i don’t have an attitude!” you argue, squirming in his grasp. it’s no use, his fingers are digging into your skin roughly and his body has you pinned, there’s no way you’re getting away from him. “just because you’re pissing me off and i don’t want to be around you doesn’t mean i have an attitude.”

“sounds like an attitude to me,” chris retorts, tightening his grip on you, making you whine. “you don’t get to be a little baby just because you’re mad.” he’s right and you know he is, but you’d never admit that, plus he was pissing you off just by being so close. you were fully confident you could fix the issue yourself.

“i’m not being a fucking baby, chris, let go of me!” you wiggle even harder, knowing his grip on you was going to leave bruises. you could feel the interaction slipping into something filthier, his chest pressed against your back making your mind fuzzy, jaw dropping open as his free hand that wasn’t holding your wrist in place slid to rest on your waist exposed by the crop top you wore.

“say you’re sorry,” chris mumbles into your ear, lips close to your skin, his smirk prominent in his voice. “i’m not sorry, i didn’t do anything,” you say in a huffy tone.

“say you’re fucking sorry,” he demands again, more aggressive this time as his hand slips into the front of the waistband of your sweatpants. you gasp at the feeling of his fingers dancing over the fabric of your panties, not having been touched by him today despite already being together for a few hours. you were beyond needy for him but you didn’t want him to know now that you were trying to be tough. “‘m not sorry,” you mutter, cheek pressed against the cold wall, eyes looking everywhere but back at him.

the hand wrapped around your wrist finally lets go, but only long enough for him to slide it up and to the front of your throat, long fingers wrapping around until he could squeeze, drawing a strained gasp from your mouth. “say it again. tell me you’re not sorry,” he rasps into your ear, lips barely brushing against your skin.

you shift on your feet, a soft whimper leaving your lips, already overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. “i didn’t do anything wrong,” you choke out, standing firm in your defense.

chris’s hand slips further into your pants, his middle fingers pressing against your clit on top of your panties, making you weak in the knees as you finally felt some sort of stimulation. “fuck, please,” you groan out, eyes fluttering shut and hips twitching against his hand.

“please, what?” he mocks, pulling your head off the wall and towards him, forcing an arch in your back. “touch me,” you respond desperately. “please touch me, i need it.”

chris laughs, actually laughs at you as he presses firmer through the fabric. “say you’re sorry and i’ll touch you,” he bargains.

you whine, wiggling more in his grip to try and escape, causing chris to snap, no longer being patient with you. he backs away, keeping his hand firm on your throat as he pulls you with him, manhandling you until you were on your knees on the floor at the end of your bed, staring up at him with wide eyes. “if you’re not going to apologize then you don’t get to speak until you do,” he tells you, leaving no room for argument as he shoves his pants and briefs down in one movement, hard cock swinging out.

you gasp at the sight and he uses this perfect opportunity to shove his length past your lips, letting out a low groan at the wet feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. “there we go, that’s it,” he mumbles, placing both of his hands on either side of your head to keep you in place as he rocks his hips forward, giving you no time to adjust. “finally fucking quiet.”

your hands come up to rest on his thighs for support, tears already starting to fill your eyes as he rams his cock down your throat, using you for his own pleasure. “look so pretty crying with my dick in your throat, don’t you?” chris teases as he stares down at you with that cocky smirk, loving the way you already looked wreck from the way he rocked his hips into you.

your saliva started to thicken as you gagged around him, sputtering out around his length and dripping down your chin as you kept your eyes on his face the best you could, nails digging into his skin harshly.

“you sorry yet?” chris asks, slowing down and letting his cock fall from your lips, laughing at the way you gasped for air when your mouth was empty. you didn’t answer, only coughed a few times as you tried to catch your breath, earning you a small but still slightly shocking slap to your cheek, followed by chris gripping your hair and tilting your head back. “i said are you sorry yet?”

you whimper quietly from the pain, but keep your eyes locked on his. “i didn’t do anything wrong,” you choke out, tears sliding down your red cheeks.

chris grumbles at your answer, using his grip on your hair to pull you up to your feet and turn you around, bending you over the mattress before sliding your sweats and underwear down, hands gripping at your now exposed ass cheeks roughly. “last chance,” he warns, voice serious.

you turn to look back at him, seeing him already staring at you expectantly. truthfully, making him mad already made you horny enough, but you loved pushing his buttons more than you’d ever care to tell him, so you wanted to see how far he’d take it and how much you could handle.

“i told you i’m not fucking sorry,” you say in the brattiest tone you can muster up and you can actually see the way chris’s eyes darken at your words. he just purses his lips and nods, letting out a small, “okay,” before drawing his hand up and striking down roughly, his handprint immediately blooming on your plush skin.

you jump forward, whimpering loudly at the contact, thinking maybe you’d have a second to recover before he lands another blow on the opposite cheek, ripping a small squeal from your lips. “ouch!” you yell at him, trying to squirm away, but he’s got you right where he wants you and there’s no escaping without giving him what he wants.

“chris, that fucking hurts,” you whine as he smacks your ass again, your cheek buried into your comforter. he hears your words, but it’s what he sees that encourages him to keep going.

your pussy is glistening, soaked folds on display from the way you were bent over in front of him, your body clearly enjoying everything he was putting you through. it took everything in him to not give in and slide into you and fuck you brainless.

“hurt enough to say you’re sorry?” he asks, pausing for a moment to lean over your body, expectantly waiting for your answer.

you crane your neck to meet his eyes, your own still glossy with tears as you shake your head slightly. “n-no,” you mumble, whimpering when he stands back up straight, bracing for impact.

this goes on until you’re full on crying against the sheets, hands gripping onto the blankets for some sort of brace as he spanked you over and over, your skin red and puffy from his hands.

“okay!” you finally cry out, stopping him in his tracks as he winds up to smack you once more, drawing his attention up to your face. “yes, baby?” he croons, leaning over you once more to press his lips against your shoulder. “gonna tell me you’re sorry now?”

you nod frantically, sniffling pathetically. “yes, i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to give you attitude or be mean, was just frustrated. please, please, touch me, fuck me, anything, i need it.” you beg, unable to focus on anything except the way your skin stung.

“you’re not just apologizing to get what you want, right?” chris asks in a fake sweet voice, his hands trailing over your hips gently, a stark contrast from the last few minutes of torture.

you shake your head quickly, pushing yourself up on one arm to look at him. “swear,” you tell him. “‘m so sorry.”

he smirks and pushes himself back up until he’s standing behind you again, angling his cock at your entrance. “wasn’t so hard, was it?” he says in a snotty voice before pushing inside and bottoming out in one go, ripping a loud, satisfied moan from your lips.

[colouredbyd]

The Boy Is Mine

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Summary: you’re quiet by nature, content in the background—until someone pushes too far. When a girl flirts with Remus, something shifts. With one kiss and a quiet claim, you remind everyone exactly who he ( and Sirius) belong to.

Warnings: possessiveness, jealousy, strong language, suggestive content, heated kiss, and public displays of affection.

Word count: 3.4k

Authors note: i need both Remus and Sirius at the same damn time.

masterlist

You’ve never been the loudest in the room.

You don’t need to be. Not when Sirius is tossing his head back laughing beside you, all glittering chaos and charm, or when Remus leans in close, voice low and deliberate, like every word he says is meant only for you.

They fill the space so effortlessly—Sirius with his magnetic presence, Remus with his quiet gravity—and you find yourself fitting between them like a breath between heartbeats. Steady, constant and soft.

You like watching more than speaking. Not out of shyness exactly, but because you enjoy observing—feeling everything. It’s the way Remus’s thumb circles over your knee under the table without him even realizing. The way Sirius always saves you the last bite, even when he swears he won’t. You don’t need to be loud to be loved here.

They know you. They’ve always known you.

Sirius, who pulls you into the middle of the common room and spins you in dizzy circles until you’re breathless with laughter. Remus, who presses his nose into your hair when the world feels too sharp and mumbles poetry against your skin. 

Between the two of them, you’ve never had to shout to be heard. They listen in the silence. They love you in the quiet.

But sometimes, even the quiet hums with something fierce.

And today, it’s starting to burn.

The loud music thumps through the walls, pulsing in your veins, but all you can hear is Remus’s voice rising above the chatter of the party. He’s talking to a girl, one whose name doesn’t matter.

because you’re already irritated.

Sirius is speaking beside you—his voice low and animated, probably bantering with James about something as thrillingly idiotic as who cheated in the last round of Exploding Snap—but the words barely register. They fade into the background like the bass of the music humming through the party, the way laughter spills and drips from every corner of the Gryffindor common room like syrup.

You’re curled up beside him on the leather couch, soft and familiar, half draped across his lap like you belong there, because you do. His palm is warm against your skin, fingers lazy as they trace circles over your thigh, an unconscious kind of touch that says mine without needing the word.

But your attention isn’t on Sirius.

It’s fixed—razor sharp and unblinking—on the girl across the room.

She’s all lip gloss and bright laughter, the kind of girl who doesn’t walk into a room so much as glitter through it. Her blouse is buttoned just low enough to draw the eye, her skirt just short enough to be a statement. She leans in closer to Remus like she’s in a slow-motion daydream, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she giggles at something he said.

Except Remus isn’t laughing.

He’s smiling, but you know that smile. It’s the strained one. The tight-lipped, please-don’t-make-this-weird smile he gives when someone crosses the line and he’s too damn kind to push them away.

And she—well. She’s not backing off.

Your fingers tighten around the stem of your glass. Not enough to shatter it, but enough to feel it, to ground yourself before the rising tide inside you gets too high. The jealousy doesn’t burn. No, it doesn’t scream or sputter like some childish tantrum. It’s quiet. Sharp. Ice in your veins, snow behind your ribs. It’s precise.

You watch her touch his arm, watch her eyes flutter and her voice pitch just so. You watch Remus stand there with all that quiet discomfort in his shoulders and all that unnecessary politeness keeping him rooted in place.

And something inside you shifts.

You’re not the loud one at these parties. You’re not the girl who shouts or struts or demands. You’re the one who stays curled up in the lap of a boy with stardust in his smile, sipping your drink while the chaos unfurls around you. You’re the calm in their storm, the softness they return to.

But not tonight.

Because tonight, someone is trying to touch what’s yours.

And whether Remus knows it yet or not, whether that girl ever figures out just how royally she’s miscalculated, one thing is already certain.

You are about to stop being the quiet one.

“Moony’s got his fan club going tonight, huh?” Sirius says, his tone casual, his fingers playing with a loose thread on the hem of your sleeve. “I swear, every time he talks to a girl, she looks like she’s ready to devour him.”

You hum, an absent sound, not really acknowledging him. Your gaze stays fixed on Remus and that damn girl, the way she’s tossing her hair back and laughing too loudly.

“You okay, dove?” His voice drops a little, his fingers tracing the line of your spine with a slow, deliberate motion.

You want to lie. You want to say it’s fine, that you’re just tired or distracted, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you give a small shake of your head, the fluttering in your chest too strong to ignore.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, a little too quickly. “Just… thinking.”

Sirius’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t push. He knows you well enough to sense when you need space, but tonight, there’s something different. The energy in the room feels electric, like it’s just waiting for a spark.

Remus laughs again from across the room, and this time, the girl reaches up to touch his arm, her fingers trailing lightly along his sleeve. The sight, the sound, the way her body leans just a little too close to his, sends a pang of something sharp through you. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch her lean in, her lips too close to his ear as she whispers something.

Your fingers grip the edge of the couch, your nails digging into the fabric. You feel like you’re going to snap at any moment, and you’re so sick of it.

Sirius seems to notice the shift in the air. His hand halts on your back, and he turns his head toward Remus and the girl, then back to you. His expression softens, understanding settling in. He leans forward, his voice low as he speaks, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

“Love, I think we’ve reached a new level here,” he says, voice laced with something almost teasing. “You’ve been staring at him for ages now.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep the fluttering in your chest under control. “I’m not staring,” you say, but even you can hear the edge in your voice.

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? ‘Cause I think you’ve definitely been staring. You want me to go over there and break it up?”

“No,” you snap, a little too quickly, and then you freeze, realizing just how harsh you sound. You soften your tone, but the words still feel like they’re cutting you open. “I… I don’t know.”

Sirius doesn’t push you, but he watches you carefully, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

You shift uncomfortably, your gaze returning to Remus and the girl. It’s like a magnet pulling you in, the way she laughs again, her hand resting on his shoulder now, fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone.

The thought makes you want to scream.

You watch the girl lean in closer, her breath light against his ear as she says something you can’t hear, but you can see it in the way her lashes flutter and her lips curl. It’s an obvious flirtation, the kind of thing that would make anyone else swoon, but you just feel your stomach twist in knots. Remus gives a tight, polite smile, the one he always does when he’s too kind to be rude, but you know that smile too well. It’s a mask, a shield, and you can see right through it. He’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t stop her.

The touch lingers. And Remus—sweet, gentle, infuriating Remus—doesn’t stop her.

He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t step back. He doesn’t even glance in your direction.

And maybe that’s the worst part.

Maybe he’s just being polite. Maybe he’s too soft-spoken for his own good. Maybe he thinks you don’t mind, that you’re tucked up on the couch beside Sirius, warm and safe and unbothered. Maybe he’s forgotten that while you may be quiet, you’re not blind.

But oh, you care.

You care enough that your drink is forgotten in your hand, the condensation sliding over your fingers like cold sweat. You care enough that your jaw clenches tight, the muscle ticking with a quiet fury that pulses behind your ribs. There’s a pressure building in your chest, a weight that has nothing to do with insecurity and everything to do with possession.

You’ve always known what’s yours.

And Remus?

He is yours.

The room around you begins to blur, voices fading into background noise, like someone’s turned the volume down on the rest of the party. The flickering firelight, the chatter of students, the low buzz of magical music—all of it dulls. All you can see is the way she’s looking at him, lips parted in a practiced little smile, eyes batting as if she’s never had to work hard for attention in her life.

You hear her laugh—sharp and high and entirely insincere—and it cuts through you like a blade. Remus chuckles along with her, and it’s that sound, that soft little sound of his, that makes something in your spine snap straight. His eyes catch the light just right, that familiar glint of mischief and charm you’ve seen a thousand times when he’s teasing you softly beneath the covers, and it stings more than you’d like to admit.

And suddenly, you are no longer the quiet girl curled in the corner.

You are no longer the soft one who waits patiently for your boys to come home to you.

You are standing up, not with a shout or a dramatic flourish, but with a kind of cold certainty, like the sea deciding to rise. Sirius shifts beside you instinctively, his hand brushing your back as he senses the change in the air, his voice dipping with curiosity.

“Love?” he says quietly, brows raising. “Everything alright?”

You don’t answer. Not yet.

Because your eyes are still locked on the girl in the too-tight blouse and the too-pretty smile and the entirely wrong assumption that she has any right to touch your Remus like she belongs there.

She doesn’t.

And she’s about to learn exactly why.

It never felt like you needed to compete for Remus’s attention. He had always been yours in that quiet, unspoken way—his careful gestures, the soft smiles he gave you when no one was looking, the way he always made sure you were okay, even when you didn’t ask. You had a bond, something deeper than words. But now, watching him allow her to invade that space, something inside you snaps.

She’s leaning into him like he’s already hers, one manicured hand lingering on his forearm, like she doesn’t see the slight pullback in his posture. Like she doesn’t notice the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Sirius’s hand slips off your thigh, stunned. “Where’re you going?”

“To get what’s mine.” you say, and your voice is soft, sultry, but it slices through the noise like a blade.

James chokes on his drink. Lily turns, eyebrows lifting as she watches you stalk forward, hips swaying, jumper slouching off one bare shoulder. You hear someone mutter, “Bloody hell.” and you don’t even need to look to know Marlene is probably grinning like a wolf.

The girl is still touching Remus. Still laughing.

You don’t give her the chance to speak. You don’t give him a moment to explain, or to blink, or to pretend he doesn’t feel the air shift as you close the distance between you like a storm cloaked in silk.

Your fingers slip beneath the hem of his jumper, curl tightly into the soft wool, and tug. Hard. Hard enough that he stumbles forward, just one step, just enough to crash into your gravity.

His eyes find yours, startled and wide, and for a heartbeat he forgets where he is. The party, the music, the girl whose perfume is still clinging to the air around him—all of it vanishes the moment your lips catch his.

It is not a kiss built from politeness or affection. It is not the kind of thing meant for privacy or delicacy.

This kiss is war.

It’s bruising and slow and devastating, like a spell whispered in the middle of a battlefield. Your hand tangles in his curls and tugs, just enough to make him gasp into your mouth. Your other hand slides down to his belt, fingers brushing over the buckle, teasing with the lightest hint of promise. You tilt your head to deepen it, your lips parting just slightly, just enough to taste him.

He groans, low and helpless, the sound caught between your mouths, and you smile against him, smug and sinful.

When you finally pull away, his lips are pink and glistening and parted like he’s about to say something but hasn’t figured out what language he speaks anymore. His hands are still hovering at your hips, and his chest is rising with uneven breath, eyes clouded with something that’s definitely not confusion.

You turn to the girl, and she looks like she’s just witnessed something religious and blasphemous at the same time. Her mouth is hanging open. Her expression is frozen in that awkward no-man’s-land between horror and disbelief.

“Oh,” you say sweetly, voice thick with honey and venom, “were you still talking? Only he seems a bit busy now.”

She blinks. Opens her mouth. Closes it. You don’t give her time to think. You trail your fingers down the front of Remus’s chest, slowly, like you’re remembering the way his body feels under your hands and enjoying every second of it. You play with the collar of his shirt, letting your nails drag across the fabric, soft and sure.

Your eyes never leave hers.

“I mean,” you go on, voice quieter now, conversational in a way that is somehow even more intimidating, “I don’t blame you. Honestly. Look at him. He’s got that whole clever boy thing going on, right? The kind of boy who knows all the answers in class and still somehow makes you want to climb into his lap and ruin his concentration. And don’t even get me started on that body—tall and lean and unfair, and the scars…” you let your fingers trail over his chest again, nails teasing the fabric, “Body built like a sin under those clothes, too bad only me and Sirius get to see it though.” 

A grin spreads across your face, wide and wicked like a cheshire cat.

Remus lets out a sound that’s definitely not family friendly and buries his face in your neck for a second, either to breathe you in or to hide the fact that he might actually combust.

James lets out a strangled sound from across the room. “What the actual hell is going on?”

Lily is watching with wide, fascinated eyes, looking between you and the girl like she’s witnessing a lioness dismantle a bunny in slow motion. Marlene, from her spot near the fireplace, raises her drink in silent toast and mutters, “Finally.”

You lean in close to Remus, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear. “But here’s the thing,” you whisper, just loud enough for the girl to still hear. 

“He’s mine.”

Then you pull back and look her dead in the eye, your gaze soft but lethal.

“And I don’t share.”

The girl blinks once. Twice. Then turns with all the grace of someone trying not to run.

Remus just stares at you for a long moment, breathless, hands still planted on your waist like he’s afraid to let go in case the earth tilts and he floats away.

“What the hell just happened?” he asks, voice low, rough, and wrecked.

Sirius appears beside you like smoke, sliding his arm around your waist as he grins like you’ve hung the bloody stars for him.

The girl’s mouth parts, clearly searching for a clever retort, something sharp or self-righteous or maybe even pathetic to claw her dignity back from the floor where you left it. But the words never come. Her lips tremble like she’s buffering. You don’t give her the chance to reboot.

Instead, with calm that borders on cruelty, you turn back to Remus and brush your lips against the corner of his mouth. Not a full kiss this time, but something quieter, more dangerous. A period at the end of a sentence she was never invited to read. 

You feel the way he freezes for just a moment, breath hitching as your fingers slide up to rest at the base of his throat, just enough pressure to remind him—and everyone watching—exactly who he belongs to.

The common room is stunned into silence. Even the portrait hole seems to creak softer, like the whole castle is holding its breath.

And then James, bless his nosy little soul, practically falls off the arm of the couch. He stares at you with something like religious awe, eyes as wide as Galleons, hand clutching his drink like a lifeline.

“That,” he says reverently, voice cracking with disbelief, “was the hottest thing I have ever witnessed. And I saw Sirius in a crop top once.”

Sirius doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s unaffected. He slumps back against the couch, one hand dragging through his hair like he’s trying to keep his brain from melting. His grin is crooked and wild, like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“Merlin’s tits,” he says, almost reverent. “I think I’m in love. Again.”

Lily, sitting upright with her legs crossed like she’s hosting a panel discussion, blinks slowly. Her jaw is slightly ajar, her drink forgotten on the floor.

“Did she just… flirt and threaten simultaneously?” she asks, clearly reevaluating everything she thought she knew about you.

Marlene doesn’t even bother to hide her grin. She claps once, loud and delighted, and leans forward with sparkling eyes.

“Oh, I love her,” she announces with glee. “Someone give that girl a crown and a throne and maybe a leather corset. She just out-Slytherined the entire House.”

You don’t look away from Remus. He’s still breathless, a little dazed, his lips parted like he’s forgotten how to speak. His hands are at your waist now, gripping softly like he needs to touch you just to make sure you’re real.

You lean in, voice velvet-sweet, and say, “Now Remmy, were you going to let her keep touching you or should I start hexing?”

Sirius, meanwhile, is leaning back like a man thoroughly entertained, one arm draped across Remus’ shoulder with a love-sick gaze in his eyes.

Remus just blinks for a moment, his mouth parted, completely undone. Then a sound escapes him, surprised and delighted, something between a laugh and a groan, like you’ve just knocked the wind out of him in the best way.

“I think I’m in love with you all over again,” he says, a little dazed.

And then Sirius leans over, as if conjured by the heat of the moment, slipping in behind you like gravity itself gave him no choice. His hands slide over your hips, warm and certain, like they’ve always belonged there. He leans in until his mouth brushes your neck, breath hot and voice lower than sin.

“That,” he murmurs, lips grazing your skin, “was art. You’ve officially ruined me. I’ll never recover.”

You shrug, casual as anything, but your pulse is thundering and your eyes are glowing and the adrenaline is still singing in your bones like an aria. “Good,” you say simply, and it lands like a spell.

The common room hasn’t even recovered. Conversations haven’t resumed. Heads are still tilted in your direction like they’re not quite sure what just happened, if they witnessed a declaration or a detonation. And maybe it was both. You were the quiet girl. The sweet one. The one with gentle touches and soft smiles who moved like a secret in a room full of noise.

But tonight? Tonight, they watched you stand like you were carved from something divine, watched you kiss Remus like he was yours and always had been, watched you claim your place not as an afterthought, but as a force of nature wrapped in wool and confidence.

And Remus? He’s still holding your waist like he might never let go. Sirius looks like he’d fight anyone who even breathes in your direction the wrong way.

Together, they look ready to tear the world apart if it means keeping you. And somehow, the quiet girl has become the storm they’d die for

[bullet-prooflove]

Pretty Boy: Dennis Whitaker x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @sargeant-sad-eyes @caffeinatedwoman @hooks-martin

Companion piece to:

Peppermint - The taste of peppermint will always have a special place in Dennis’s heart.

The Morgue Thing - A miscommunication between you and Dennis almost ends things before they begin.

Written In The Stars - Your first date with Dennis takes place underneath the stars.

In The Park - Dennis reveals a secret after the two of you spend the night together in the park.

Virgin - There's a rumour going around about Dennis.

Debauched (NSFW) - Karaoke night ends a lot differently than it did the first time around.

Symphony (NSFW) - Dennis has never eaten pussy before...

Watching you undress is like seeing the sunrise for the first time. The slow unbuttoning of your shirt to reveal sage coloured lace, the removal of your skirt showcasing the panties that he’s just ruined you in.

“Do you want to take them off?” You ask him as he sits on the edge of the bed, his hands gripping the sheets so he doesn’t touch himself. “Or would you like me to?”

“You.” He whispers because he doesn’t trust himself not to come the moment he gets his hands on you.

You reach behind you, unfastening the bra and it falls to the floor at your feet along with the rest of your clothing. He drinks in the sight of you, soft curves and dusky nipples and his cock leaks it’s approval, a clear droplet trailing down his shaft.

“I’m getting you all wet again aren’t I?” You murmur as your thumbs hook your underwear, drawing it slowly down your thighs. “Should I lick it up again?”

His breath catches at the idea before he shakes his head in response to your words.

“When I come I want it to be with you.” He whispers, those pretty blue eyes of full of need as he looks up at you. “I want to feel you gripping me, hear you say my name.”

“Oh pretty boy.” You smile as you use your palm to push him back onto the mattress. The world tilts as he lands amongst your plush sheets, your sensual form covering his as you follow him down. “You know all the right things to say don’t you?”

His fingertips chase up your back, anchoring you to him as you reach up towards the nightstand, withdrawing a condom from the top drawer.  

“Do you want me to put it on?” You whisper and he nods his head, his lips swollen from your kisses. His head tips back into the pillow as you grasp him, rolling the condom down his eager cock before squeezing once at the base.

“Can I fuck you?” You murmur, your nose trailing over his as you guide him to just the right place.

“Please.” He whispers and that’s when his world explodes into a haze of euphoria and  ecstasy as you sink down on his cock, taking it inch by inch until he’s fully seated.

“You feel so fucking good.” You whisper against his lips, your thumb chasing along the line of his jaw. “Think you can move for me?”

“Like this?” He asks clutching your hips, driving upwards.

“Oh fuck.” You cry out and that sound, it emboldens him. “Exactly like that.”

He thrusts harder, faster, chasing those hitched breathes and dulcet moans until he can feel you right there at the precipice, clenching around him, coming apart.

“Say my name.” He whispers as he looks into your eyes. “Please Lola, I need…”

“Dennis.” It comes out like a prayer, like the most beautiful hymn from his church back home and Dennis, he goes hurtling over the edge with you, his hips jerking as he climaxes into the condom.

“I didn’t know it could be like this.” He whispers, trying to catch his breath as he lays tangled up in you.

“Neither did I.” You whisper back.

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[tinkerbellini21]

Push My Buttons: Prequel to Champagne Kisses

Eddie Diaz x plus size! reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: light smut, tension that explodes

Author's Notes: none besides this was fun to write!

Sequel: Champagne Kisses | E. Diaz Taglist | Masterlist

Every look sent your way, every accidental touch, every laugh aimed for you- each pushed you closer to the edge of heartbreak, want, and need.

The gathering was small, and honestly? It was a miracle that he didn’t get any noise complaints. 

Buck had thrown a 2000s club themed extravaganza to bring in the New Year. He went the full nine yards, renting a smoke machine and strobe lights. And it was perfect. By creating this effect, everyone was feeling the effects of alcohol way more. This worked to his benefit, as he had to limit alcohol consumption due to his still healing leg. And it wasn’t just the regular group, he had invited anyone that he had remotely known.

The night was filled with beer pong, karaoke, and drinking games. You had called Hen and Karen early in the night (before you were all too sloshed) to check in on them. They were hosting a sleepover for Chris, Denny, Harry, and a few of their friends from school. Bobby and Athena were at another party, one that was way less college-esque. 

Eventually, Buck had convinced everyone to play a game of drink or dare- a shot for each refused dare. You were bold, completing every dare. Maddie had even let you kiss her, to which you both giggled and realized that it was a good thing you weren’t anything. The chemistry wasn’t there. 

You’d even let Buck tug you around the corner, his mouth pressing into the curve of your chest. He left a hickey, right below the v-neck of your shirt, barely visible. Your fingers dug into the back of his head, reveling in the pain, holding him there. And Buck was eating it up as you laughed through it. 

God it felt good, but it wasn’t who you wanted to leave a red mark on you. It was flattering that Buck chose to give you a hickey, you felt wanted, but it also felt extremely wrong. Sure, you were definitely drunk enough to find this fun and harmless, but you had your mind set on someone else. The man who was best friends with Buck. So it really stung when Chim dared Buck to mark someone up instead of Eddie.

Shortly after, Maddie’s coworker and someone that you have become friends with, Josh, had dared you to sit on Eddie’s lap. Eddie had patted his lap, welcoming you to join him. He’d even whispered in your ear as you sat down, telling you it was okay to do so and you could relax. 

You had sat in his lap for two more dares before you pushed yourself up to go to the bathroom. 

You closed your eyes as you relieved yourself, leaning forward to press your elbows into your thighs. 

What were you doing? Were you going to regret this in the morning?

You wash your hands before looking at yourself in the mirror. Dragging your fingers under your eyes, you cleaned up any stray makeup. 

God, I wish Eddie would mess up my makeup- on purpose. 

You shouldn’t want that. But God, you did. 

Fluffing your hair, you grab the door handle to go back out to the party. You were ready to go home, to escape the tension between you and Eddie. 

Stop it. That’s not going to happen.

It’s just drunken fun. That’s all. 

Life will go back to normal tomorrow, and Eddie Diaz- he doesn’t want you.

Not really.

Opening the door, Eddie is sitting on Bucks bed. He has a button undone, exposing part of his chest. He looks up at you. The light of the bathroom casts a warm glow on him. His eyes are darker than usual.

“Hi.” You sputter, swallowing hard. You don’t have time to step out of the bathroom, as Eddie stands up, crossing the room with quick strides. 

Then he pushes past you, grabbing your arm lightly to pull you with him. 

A click of the lock and your back is pressed against the door while he paces the length of the bathroom.

“Is there something here?” His finger waves between the two of you, his other hand drawing over his stubbled face. “Tell me no and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

I wish.

“You tell me.” You counter, biting your lip. He moves closer to you, his body an inch away. His forearms press against each side of your head, towering over you. 

“I need to hear you.”

“Eddie-”

“That stunt? I’m so- I could kill Chimney and Buck.”

“So what?”

“Jealous! I’m fucking jealous.” He pauses, turning his head away, tearing his gaze from yours. “Buck said it’s nothing serious, to chill. But that’s bullshit.”

“I’m not into Buck.” You try to ease the tension with a laugh before whispering your confession. “God, I want you so bad, Eddie Diaz, so much that it hurts.”

Neither of you have time to react. His fingers cards into your hair, tugging on the root as he smashes his lips against yours. You moan, pulling him into you by holding his neck. 

He firmly holds your hip as he backs up, guiding you to the vanity. He pushes you up onto the countertop, settling himself between your legs. The heels of your feet dig into his calves, holding him in. 

When he pulls away for air, his teeth tug your bottom lip into his mouth, tugging on it. You throw your head back, pleasure consuming you. 

You hear the faint sound of music from downstairs. The Way I are by Timbaland plays, the club beat and the heavy electronic synths symbolic of the way your heartbeat rings in your ears, your body on fire with adrenaline, lust. 

Eddie dives back into you, his nose brushing your upper neck, his lips locking around your pulse point. He sucks hard, harder than Buck did, and your toes curl, desperately clinging to Eddie. He moves upwards, towards your ear, sinking his teeth into your skin. 

The marks that he’s leaving will be very prominent, a dark shade of purple. They might be hard to cover, but you don’t care. 

You want people to see. 

“OH FUCK.” You groan loudly, already embarrassingly wet. He has barely touched you yet you’re unravelling fast. 

“That’s the plan, querida.” 

You slide your hand down the front of his torso. Eddie practically whimpers into your skin, giving you the confidence you need to keep going. You cup him, firmly massaging his hardened length. 

“What do you say, we leave, Diaz?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He growls in your ear.

Once you both catch your breaths and straighten out each other, you leave the bathroom. Eddie holds you tightly against him, still erect as he presses against your backside.  You almost fall down the stairs, and thankfully he catches you. You giggle, throwing your head back to look at him. His eyes shine, pupils blown out. 

You find your purse, fumbling around to find your phone to order an Uber. Eddie holds your waist from behind, leaving kisses on your collarbone, pulling your shirt back to work on your shoulder. 

If you were sober, you would be embarrassed at the very public action. But you don’t care, leaning back against him. He moves his hips against yours, moving you both in rhythm with the music. The lights have been turned back on, music turned up again. 

Buck, Chim, and Maddie stand in a corner, nursing red solo cups of punch. The boys smile to themselves, celebrating the success of their plan. Maddie watched with care, finally happy to see that her friend may have found the one for her. 

She just hoped it wouldn’t end in heartbreak. Because if it did, she wasn’t sure you’d ever trust love again- not after everything. And if Eddie broke your heart, Maddie didn’t think she could forgive him, either.

You bid your farewells, crawling into the back of the Uber, barely making the ride home. Your hands were everywhere on each other, although you refrained from making out  in the backseat of this poor college kid’s vehicle. 

Eddie laced his fingers through yours as you walked up the drive to his front door. Your pulse was racing. 

You didn’t know what would happen next. However, you knew that you were already in deep, deeper than you should be

Here goes nothing.

[celorangeine]

bully doodles time 😎

+ random ass jimmy

[benevolenterrancy]

(Unseen Academicals, Terry Pratchett) I think Shang Qinghua and Ponder Stibbons should have tea and compare notes about somehow accumulating so much behind-the-scenes power by doing menial jobs no one else wants that they could basically run the show if they wanted...

meanwhile we have Shen "meh good enough" Qingqiu

[heartorbit]

i want to know everything that makes you happy! 💫🪐🎇

[ratcandy]

I think the funny yellow cat should have a little bit of unpredictability to them . For they did score the god of chaos

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

"I remember holding him, and then there was a bright light, and then I felt warm."

[kelpermoosee]

Knocking them over and watching them scramble to get up with those big ass heads

[exhibit-ayyy-look-at-this-nerd]

reading @logans-old-tie’s fic the rise of a king and the fall of a queen & this scene was very endearing to me so i wanted to doodle it ^^

[pink-pone]

had to drop everything i was doing to make this

[triglycercule]

Thoughts on mtt

they should travel the multiverse together and see and experience a more peaceful life than all of them ever have (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

also they should get to gnaw at each other like rabies infected dogs 🧡🙏

[benevolenterrancy]

May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

[aj-artjunkyard]

Some doodles inspired by @ineedausernamel829 ‘s Enemy Brothers AU!!!

(AU in which Anakin is raised by the Sith until the Jedi storm their fortress and find a very grumpy little boy inside. They decide to train him, much to Tiny Vader’s dismay)

I absolutely LOVE this AU, it’s so fun and it’s such an interesting concept to explore. To my knowledge there isn’t a specific description of Vader’s Sith clothes, so I made some up - not to be taken as canon! This was just me playing around :) I also gave him grown Anakin’s scar for the same reason. Just thought it looked cool ;)

GO read enemy brothers

[kiwibirdlafayette]

dudE DUDE dude I am. I am so giddy over bdubs episode from today OH YM GOD like just. Everything about the terrain, from the color work and the composition tickles such a particular itch in my stupid little artist brain Im so Freakin impressed aaaAAAA I LOVE IT

LIKE THE GRASS TRICK OMH YMG GOD. THE GHIBLI GRASS THING BLUER SHADOWS YELLOWER HIGHLIGHT AS A POP OF WARM TONE IS MY LIFEBLOOD AS A LANDSCAPE PAINTER IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO HEAR IT BEING USED IN MINECRAFT AAAAAA he mentioned it wnd i was like!!! HOLY MOLEY