#i'm more confident that he would sell
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gamebunny-advance · 5 days ago
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Hm...
This whole thing is pretty exciting for me~ Getting the photos makes this project feel a lot more "real" to me.
Makes me wanna start more projects, but this first round needs to go well first before I start getting too ambitious~
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bi-writes · 5 months ago
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Do you think MOB's ex would ever come looking for her one day?
mail-order bride
simon opens the door for you, taking your hand as you get out of his truck. you brush off the front of your jeans, smiling as you step around him and onto the sidewalk.
"said an hour or so?" simon mutters, shutting the door behind you. you nod, looking around at the shops.
"yeah, i just need some things, but i also wanna look around. maybe get some books or something...i don't know."
simon shrugs, flipping his hood up over his head. he bends to give you a kiss over the mask, and you thumb at his jaw gently.
"i'll pick ya up 'ere in an hour then," simon murmurs. "call me if ya need somethin', love. and if yer not back 'ere in an hour and ya haven't texted me, i'll come lookin' for ya."
you giggle, "i know, simon. i'll see you."
he smiles under the mask, you can tell by the way it moves and the way his eyes crinkle a little. you lean up and give him another kiss over the mask before making your way down the main road, stepping into a boutique to look for some new clothes. you wave at simon as he passes by, and he salutes you before driving off.
you love spending time in town. you love visiting the shops, getting pastries, having some tea by the bookstore and buying little trinkets from the antique shop. simon likes the cheese shop. they sell some of his favorite french cheese, and they have wonderful wines that they pair with it that you love drinking together for dinner. you pick up a bottle along with some cheeses and bread, and just as you leave the shop, you bump right into a solid back, dropping one of your bags and nearly tripping into the road.
"oh, fucking hell!"
you gasp, clutching the rest of your bags to yourself. the man turns around, glaring at you, and you feel sick.
what the fuck is he doing here?
"oh well...isn't this a wonderful surprise?" he snorts. you pick up your fallen bag and straighten up, stepping back to create distance between you.
"hi..." you clear your throat. "i...i'm meeting someone, i have to go--"
"oh, where are you going?"
he blocks you from stepping around him. you meet his eyes, taking a deep breath. he always liked being able to control every aspect of you, from where you stood to what you did that day. your skittishness...your apprehensiveness...it's ingrained in you from your time with him. it's hard to explain being afraid of someone who never even really touched you, but you left before you thought it could get that far.
"that's really none of your business," you say softly. "excuse me."
he sidesteps again when you do, and this time you frown.
"you..." you glare at him. "...need to get out of my way."
he grins, a humorless laugh coming out of him. you don't like the way he's standing there, and you don't like how calm he is.
"oh, i didn't realize little kitty had grown some claws."
maybe you have. you've started to shed your scared exterior, mostly because there is someone behind you now, someone bound to you, supportive enough to make you more confident, braver, stronger. you stand a little taller, clenching your jaw, and you close the distance, stepping closer, and you cant your chin up so you can look at him hard.
"i don't know what you're doing here," you say lowly, "but you need to get the fuck out of my way, or you're going to have some other problems that you certainly can't handle."
he raises a hand, about to touch the lapel of your jacket. you grip his wrist, holding him there, and you tilt your head to the side.
"and if you touch me, you'll be sorry for it. now step aside, asshole, or i will make it a very hard day for you."
"c'mon," he chuckles. "let's go get a drink. there's a pub just down that way--"
"what part of no, and get out of my way, makes you think i wanna have a drink with you?" you scoff. "are you serious? are you that stupid that you think--"
"you listen here," he snaps, pointing his finger, getting in your face. "it's not my fault that you're--"
you step backwards when a big hand comes around you, snatching his wrist and yanking his finger out of your face. you look to your side to see simon standing there, shuffling in front of you, putting himself between you.
"now, i don't much care for interrupting, but you've got y'r fuckin' finger in my wife's face, and i'd like to know why."
you take a glance at your watch, and you realize it's past the time simon said he would pick you up. you sigh, reaching up and sliding your hand up simon's arm, and he lets go.
"it's fine," you tell him. "he was just on his way out."
he's shaking. stumbling backwards, clutching his wrist, glancing between you two. simon holds his hand out finally, beckoning him.
"your wallet."
"w-what?"
"give me y'r bloody wallet," simon snaps.
"simon--" you try, but he clicks his tongue as he snatches the wallet from him, shuffling an ID card out before reading his name out loud, and his address. simon chuckles darkly, cracking his neck before tossing the wallet at his chest.
"i know y'r name," simon murmurs. "and i know where ya put y'r head at night. where ya piss. where ya change y'r clothes. if i ever see ya talk to my wife again...if i even see ya walk down the same fuckin' road as 'er, i'll come and visit you. and we'll 'ave a chat."
"r-right, i--" he stuffs his wallet into his pocket before leaving, hurrying down the road. he doesn't even look back, doesn't look behind him. when simon turns around, you can tell just by looking into his eyes that he's angry.
he reaches over and takes the shopping bags from you, holding them in his sweaty fists as he nods his head towards his truck down the road.
"let's go," he snaps, and you hurry to follow him, reaching for his bicep. you hold onto it gently, stopping him, tugging him towards you as you block him by stepping in front of him.
"simon," you look up at him. "hey--"
"who was tha'?" he asks.
"a terrible nobody," you say softly. "one that i would rather forget."
"i--"
"thank you," you interrupt him gently. "for standing up for me. thank you...thank you for always believing me. for supporting me. for always showing up when it matters, thank you..."
simon bends, leaning his forehead against yours, and he breathes in shakily.
"your pain is mine," simon mutters. "your...discomfort is my discomfort, your joy is my joy."
you both close your eyes, smiling, and he hums when he feels another kiss, soft, the lightest press against his mouth that he feels ten times stronger than normal.
"i love you, simon," you whisper. you hear the bags drop onto the floor, and then two big hands cup your face, leaning it back, and he stares down at you almost painfully. it feels like you aren't real. he feels like it must be a dream, like this can't be his reality.
"i love you more, baby."
but when simon opens his eyes, you're still there.
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leeloooonfire · 6 months ago
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first kiss
There are many rumours about Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson. Steve only gets his weed from the freak because he gives good discount and sloppy heads. (That rumour is on the jocks of Hawkins High. yes, Steve gets his weed from Eddie, no he doesn't get sloppy heads from Eddie though he thinks the metal head would probably be good at it.)
They've once raced against each other and Eddie won. Beamer against shabby, rusty Van. It's said that Eddie pushed Steve off the road and then left him in a ditch. (The truth is that Steve crashed the beamer one night in '85 after weeks of nightmares and the need to drive through Hawkins to make sure that no demodog would attack his kids. Eddie merely helped him and the beamer out of the ditch.)
They've been friends looooong before the Upside Down. (This is from the kids, specifically from Dustin. And it is anything but true.)
Steve and Eddie made out once in 1981. With their hands down their pants, tongue far up in each others mouths. (This is from a cheerleader who graduated in '82).
This is...well...true. To a point! No hands in pants, but yeah, Steve and Eddie onces kissed. To be specific, it was Steve's first kiss, for both of them really.
Winter '81 at Michael Carvers birthday party where Steve was invited as the youngest basketball player in the team and Eddie was there to sell weed.
Somehow, Steve got pulled into a round of 7 minutes in Heaven by said cheerleader (which had been a trick, a little prank on little Stevie because there had been no 7 minutes in heaven, just some giggling cheerleaders and a perplexed Eddie Munson selling weed out off Carvers pantry).
The moment Steve was shoved into the tiny, dark space with no one but the freak, he had 2 options: run and be the joke of the school or stay and become an enigma in his first year of Highschool.
So, Steve stayed.
'Pre-rolled or a baggy?' Eddie, sitting on a chair, had asked with a drawl which would have been intimidating if his voice hadn't broken right then.
'7 minutes in hell' Steve simply said, ignoring both the lunchbox on Eddie's knees and the funny crack of his voice.
the other boy leaned back, head tilted like a confused puppy, 'Isn't it 7 minutes in Heaven?'
Steve shrugged his shoulders, 'probably depends on who's with you, you know?'
And that made Eddie laugh, head bend, eyes squeezed shut, a nice, rumbling sort of sound escaping his lips.
'Good point', he'd said and closed the lunchbox before leaning closer, 'What'cha intend to do about it?'
Until this very moment, Steve didn't know, hadn't had a clue, but when the laughter of the cheerleaders from the other side of the door reached his ears, he shrugged again and said, 'probably kiss you until the 7 minutes are over and then buy a pre-rolled.'
'You don't mind that they might called you a fag?'
For a moment, Steve thought about it, but then shrugged again. He wasn't one, liked girls just fine and if anything, he thinks Lucy from geography definitely would like to hold his hands.
'Nah, I don't mind.'
And before the other boy could say anything, Steve marched closer and bend down, one hand on Eddie's knee, the other on his smooth cheek.
'But I'm not gonna kiss you if you don't want it,' he said right against Eddie's lips. Eddie, who looked startled and wide-eyed, lips slightly parted. Steve knew that he sounded far more confident than he actually felt, and he was just so very grateful that his hands weren't as sweaty with nervousness as the lower part of his back. He just hoped that he smelled nice.
'5 more minutes,' someone called out and Eddie jerked against Steve’s hands.
'OK,' he said quietly, sounding so small and Steve felt for him, so he said, honest and with a bit vulnerability, 'it's my first kiss.'
Before Eddie could say anything, however, Steve kissed him. Just a light pressure of lips against lips. He stopped, leaned back to look at Eddie only to find him with his eyes closed, so Steve leaned in again. One peck, two, a third, and then Eddie's hand closed around Steve's waist to move him closer, right between his parted legs. Another hand reached for Steve's head, slightly cold fingers curled into his hair and Eddie's thumb began to brush almost gently over Steve's ear. It felt electrifying. He hummed. This time, when their lips met, they opened and Steve carefully let his tongue run along Eddie's lower lip. He's met with a heavy exhale and something like a quiet whine. It's sounded like heaven, so he did it again only to feel Eddie's tongue against his. Wet, Steve thought at first, a bit slimey, but then Eddie grabbed his head harder and opened his mouth wider and with it, Eddie's tongue brushed against his, and it felt like nothing Steve's ever felt before. Warm and fuzzy and lovely, and Eddie tasted like mint gums and spit. He groaned. Steve reached for Eddie's hair, short and curly and so soft against his hand and somehow he's not standing anymore but sitting on Eddie's lap, their chests touching. When Steve's teeth accidently dug into Eddie's wonderfully plush bottom lip, he moaned into Steve's mouth. It was as if the sound echoed through Steve's bones. So he did it again. And again, nails digging into Eddie's neck to keep him close. The hand on Steve's waist trailed along his waistband and then under Steve's shirt to tickle his stomach and before thinking too much, he pressed into it.
Eddie tilted his head and brushed his tongue against Steve's and then against his teeth and lips and before he knew what was happening, Eddie's beautiful, unskilled mouth, left his lips and trailed along his jaw to his ear, gently biting into the flesh behind it. And Steve outright moaned loud enough for the sound to travel outside of the pantry.
'30 more seconds' came a snickering answer and the two boys jumped apart. Eddie's cheeks and neck were flushed bright red, his lips shiny with spit, his hair a mess and Steve knew he probably looked just the same. They both panted, Steve's heart running a mile a minute.
'Oh,' he said, still feeling Eddie's touch against his skin (and wanting more.)
He wanted more!
Both of them tried to put their clothes and hair in order, breathing heavily and just as Steve put his hand on the doorknob to leave the tiny room, Eddie said, 'You were my first kiss, too.'
5 years later, after battles and almost dying, Steve lies on Eddie's new (thankfully clean) mattress and says with a small smile, 'best first kiss ever,' only for Eddie to smirk and say, 'We could repeat it, you know?'
They've been best friends for the last few months, similar but so much different from how Steve and Robin are best friends, but when Steve looks at Eddie and his pink lips and the way his cheeks are hot and his eyes twinkle with something more, he knows that they could be so much more...
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loriache · 9 months ago
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Butch up that Elf: my Marcille manifesto
TBQH, this came into being because the Falin "dragoness" fanart rewired my brain completely. It's sillytimes, but we're going to make a serious argument: trying out being a little butch would Fix Her.
1. Marcille Gender Discomfort
Now, Marcille LOVES feminity. She loves playing dressup, she loves elaborate gowns, she spends her free time going to the spa - the absolute last thing I want is to deny that. However, there's also a definite vibe that this isn't just a preference. Specifically, the way that she pushes Falin towards femininity suggests that she isn't comfortable with gender nonconformity in the people around her.
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If this was something she was 100% confident about ("I'm doing this for myself and nobody else!") surely what other people do wouldn't be a big deal? Of course, you can read this as a little bit of solipsism; "what works for me must work for you too! I think this is so cute and would suit you - wouldn't you agree?"
But for the sake of this argument, all I'm trying to suggest is that gender nonconformity (and probably sexual nonconformity... well, frankly, any kind of sexuality at all) is unlikely to be something that's on Marcille's "radar". She hasn't tried out other ways of presenting and decided she doesn't like them. I do think she'd be a very flamboyant butch - "ouji lolita" vibes, you know? It's a whole new set of wardrobe options she could play dress-up in, even.
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After the story ends, she starts dressing like her mother in all black, which makes sense - her mother was also a court magician, so she's probably emulating her in order to project confidence and authority. But I can't say I think she should stick with this. Break away and be your own person, Marcille! Try a fancy waistcoat and frilled jacket!
2. Haircut
This is another potential hard sell, I'm sure. The people she loves doing her hair is a cute symbol of their care for her, and her hair is key to her magic - so there's plenty of reason for her to keep it long. But like... think practically. Having someone do your hair every morning, for the whole of her long life, while it gets messier over the day (because she can't remember to keep it neat)... That's got to be such a pain. My hair gets messy when I put a hoodie on. And I have short hair.
It would require her to go through a change of mind, and probably a little more growth in how secure she feels in her relationships, but - the hairdo's a symbol. The more important thing is the relationships themselves. Eventually I think there might be something liberating about cutting it off, even if she might eventually decide to grow it out again.
The lion, her trauma, took something away from her which was really important to her. The people around her are able to make that easier, and make up for it, and soften that loss, but... Mithrun isn't the person he was before, you know? He's a new person. The relationship he has with his brother is new, and I don't know if it's one that the person he was before could have had. If Falin hadn't died, they wouldn't have gone on that wonderful adventure! They wouldn't have met Senshi or saved Izutsumi and Laios and Marcille wouldn't have gotten so close. So I think it's totally congruent with the themes of the story that the burning away of this part of Marcille's self might eventually create the potential for new growth in a new direction, not clinging onto the parts that are gone.
This also isn't totally out of the norm for elven mages - both Otta and Flamela have short hair. Otta is canonically butch, and potentially Flamela reads that way to elves too, but the point is it clearly is possible to be an accomplished mage without long hair.
3. Desiring (to be) a chivalrous prince
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Marcille's succubus is clearly General Halleus from her favourite book series, the Daltian Clan. The fact that this is her ideal man.... it certainly plays into readings of her as Not Straight. But at least, this conveys the way her conception of sex and romance is strongly idealised, dissociated from the bodily and from physical desire.
There are many ways to interpret that, including thinking about what types of desire this fixation is obstructing because she is not comfortable with it, but I am going to focus here on what this desire does signify. She likes the trappings of courtly romance, and is clearly comfortable putting herself in the role of the princess, being taken away on a white horse by a noble (but tormented; eyepatch has "death" on it lmao) prince. (Though I think he's actually the token male lead who isn't royalty; he's a General. There's always one in Romfan, lmao. IYKYK)
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A kiss on the hand - this is so chaste, I think it's clear it's more about desire to play a role in a dynamic than it is about desire in a physical sense. There is undoubtedly a big part of Marcille that wants to be a beloved and chased-after princess, but I think it isn't at all impossible that she'd also enjoy being the powerful, cool, and chivalrous "prince" to someone (a pretty girl, perhaps) who needs her protection.
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This is a little silly, because it's clearly just aping the shoujo artstyle that articulates basically the same idea as her succubus, that Marcille is attached to highly abstracted and idealised romantic (and Romantic) tropes and ideas. But the imaginary "successful" Marcille from chapter 4 looks quite similar to her succubus. (Another thing I noticed is that in the fantasy she has sharp ears... like full elves have. Despite what she says, I think the cultural messaging that this trait is "attractive" and hers are inferior got to her at least a bit. 😥)
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Also, the way that she treats Falin, scolding her indulgently, trying to look after her and wanting to be looked up to and respected by her... that aligns more with the "masculine" role in the trope that her succubus is referencing. "What are we going to do with you...?" I can imagine her saying this to Falin, word for word. Whereas, if anyone real started talking down to her, even affectionately, I don't think she'd like it, given the negative way she reacts when people don't respect her or her skills. Especially after canon, given the way the Winged Lion was treating her.
Her attitude to Falin is partially down to her reluctance to acknowledge Falin as an adult, who is independent and can grow beyond her and leave her behind. But I think even as they move on from that unhealthy dynamic, Marcille is still going to get pleasure from feeling capable, reliable, able to look after and protect Falin. She'd like to pull the chair out for her in a restaurant on a date, you know?
4. Conclusion
Even after the growth she goes through during the story, there are parts of Marcille's character that are very much obstructed. Romance, sexuality, and gender, feel like one of those to me. The way that her discomfort with the messy origins of food betrayed a deeper, more significant discomfort with the cycles of life and death.
Much in the same way, I'd argue that the simplified, idealistic, and safely fantastical way that she views romance, as well as her very "safe" gender presentation and tendency to push it onto others as well, suggest an underlying discomfort in her own gender and sexuality. The character growth she goes through leaves her in a place where it may be possible to safely re-evaluate her relationship with Falin, as well as her choice of clothing and hairstyle, both things that go through a change at the end of the manga. Neither, I think, reach a sustainable stopping point that we see - there will be a point when it's more servants doing her hair than friends, just out of practicality, because they're all going to be so, so busy. The black clothing to copy her mum is cute, but once she gets some more self-confidence in her own skills as a court magician, I think she'll move on from it. And... who knows what direction her relationship with Falin will develop, over the years? I'm rooting for them, anyway.
In all those cases, I think moving outside of the things she's done before, into something really different from the things that are "safe" and expected, will be the most rewarding path for her. Like in the dungeon, things that she would initially reject were actually able to sustain her and broaden her tastes. She loves dressing up, looking after people, and "princely romance". So I say: Butch Marcille! It'll be good for her!!
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unconventional-lawnchair · 5 months ago
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Fix it yourself
James Potter x Bsf!Slytherin!Reader - Sirius Black x BrothersBsf!Slytherin!Reader (endgame)
Best Friend by Rex Orange County
Masterlist
Wc- 12011
Summary: Falling in love with James Potter was a whirlwind affair full of lies and heartbreak. Everything comes to a head when he asks you to fake date someone so Lily will give him a chance.
Cw; Cussing, Manipulation, James is such an arse (I love him don't come for me), self indulgent, themes of abuse and abandonment, sexual content and scenes, Jealous James being rude, Protective Sirius, Substance use, Reader had her things destroyed, dad gets sick, nudity, {let me know if I forgot anything!}
Taglist- @otterlockholmes
A/N: Shout out to @our-sweet-t-universe, this would not of been a smidge of happy in this fic if it wasn't for you. Next post will be part two to zombies and then two requests!
An endless cycle of churning.
That was what your dad called it. You and James’s push and pull of affections to hatred.
When you were younger, you could never imagine a life without James Fleamont Potter. He was your favorite person since you could remember names. Your father was an apothecary, business partners turned close friends with Fleamont Potter, or as you called him since you could speak, “Uncle Flea.”
Your father traveled for his work, always researching better ingredients and replacements, selling his remade patents of popular potions back to the creators in exchange to sell their potions and the ingredients. Your father was a clever businessman, a proud Slytherin in his school years. Fleamont would joke, every Potter had their Slytherin. Let that be romantic, as his mother and father, or platonic like him and your father.
James was still ever the dramatic, determined to believe he would never need his Slytherin, he didn't want a Slytherin. He had you, that was all he needed.
Oblivious and fiesty you would agree with anything he said to keep the ever confident boy talking. His voice was your favorite part of James Potter, which worked wonders with your ever quiet disposition.
“I don't need a Slytherin! I have {Y/n}!” James would fuss when the teasing began. “She's cooler then any green robe!”
“Yeah! I'm cooler than any green robe!” You would snap out of whatever day dream you were having as you played with your fathers miniature carvings he would make you in his travels. He always brought you one back, with a moving photo of him in some fantastical place posing with them.
Your father would smile knowingly at Fleamont, as Euphemia called you into the kitchen to help set the table, as was a part of your nightly routine. James pouted after you as he was left alone with the dads.
While your father traveled more, you spent more time with the Potters. Back then, you were always so sad about it, watching the window and waiting longingly for your father to return.
Around your older years, seven to eight, you finally learned to appreciate what they did for you. It's not that you ever showed you were ungrateful, your father had just always been your favorite person. Being away from him felt so much longer than it was.
You spent most of your time running around the large property and making it your own with James. You would carve path marks into trees and divide your territory. You would wage war and swim in the creek.
One summer, Fleamont even helped you build a treehouse. A treehouse you guys never used after that after that, outside of a hiding place for things you most certainly shouldn't have. That, and the ever growing collection of your father’s wood carvings, all on top of a silver padlock box with your father’s photos.
“These are for you and James to play with.”
He always made sure you knew that. Even if James was never particularly fond of them, he loved the stories your father returned with about them. So fond, in fact, that he kept a particular carving of a dragon when your dad told you both about the time he was attacked by one. Painted it and all, the only figurine not in the treehouse, Grandos.
The first time James exited your life was your ninth birthday. You were at the Potters again over the summer, when your aunt suddenly came to pick you up in the middle of a cold rainy night. Suddenly you were awoken from your fort on the couch with James, both of you snuggled under a mountain of blankets. Euphemia continued to come back and tuck you in.
It was quick and the adults seemed panicked. When you made it home you found your father bedridden, with dragonpox.
You spent that entire summer into the fall spending time with him. Your auntie gifted you a muggle toy, a two way radio. She set one up to always be on for your father. You would walk around the house with yours, turning it on to say something to your father just to listen to him cough and wheeze, the only sign he was still breathing.
James would send you letters but you never got to reading them. Just staying home and wandering the house. Your young mind finding paintings your father had hung himself to tell him about, reminding him what it was like in the kitchen, the silliest things to remind your father you were still there.
Everyday. Everynight.
Eventually, your father got better, and he summoned the Potters to Diagon Alley for a bite to eat. It was the first time you had seen James in three months. For two eight year olds, that seemed like forever ago.
James pouted through dinner, then the walk around the park. Every attempt to talk to him was met with loud sniffling and sobs for you to leave him alone. The Potter parents would wince at the interactions, eventually ending up with two blubbering children, both crying because they wanted to be friends again.
“You ignored me!” James shouted, making a scene.
“I was spending time with my da!” You would fuss back, fists clenched and your foot stamping.
“I thought you hated me!” He blubbered back and you began to sob louder. “I-I woke up and you were gone!”
“Why are you crying so hard, Niffler?” Your father would coo, not the least bit bothered by the prying eyes around the public place.
“Because Jamie thinks I hate him!” You shouted out, turning to your father and dragging your fists over your swollen eyes.
“Do you hate little Jamie?” He pushed and James sobbed louder at the question.
“No! I love Jamie!” You sobbed out and James gave a louder wail.
“I love you too!”
“Then forgive me!”
“Okay!”
Like that, you were once again spending every waking moment with the chocolate haired boy. That summer your father was cleared to work, and he never turned down the chance.
You went back to the Potters and spent the time you had with James like you never stopped being friends. Running through the forest, jumping in the creek, and now, James found a passion for listening to you read before bed.
When you both got your Hogwarts letters, you both demanded to be the first to get your wands. So, before August even came, you and James shared the most special moments of your childhood. Getting your wand from Olivander and getting your very own owl from Eeylops.
James ended up with a snowy owl he named Snow. You thought it was the most clever thing in the world, his parents just smiled knowingly at each other. You got a barn owl you named an equally clever name. Barn.
Thinking back on it, they should have never let you leave that store with that poor owl.
You gave James a lot of your favorite memories to cherish. He kept them the second time you stopped talking.
That was, when you both made it to Hogwarts. You walked into the grand hall holding hands, laughing about some stupid joke he made that was certainly not worth a laugh. You loved to feed his ego, his mother would say. You would just agree.
“His ego is never starved.” She would smirk and you would simply shrug with a cheeky grin.
“But it could always eat.”
You left the grand hall in tears and a green robe. He was already far ahead of you, in his own red robes, acting as if those eleven years of friendship were nothing to him. Much to your dismay, you didn't have your father to come save you this time, tell you his wise words and share his bit of wisdom for you to find your way through the pain.
There was no comfort found in the snakes den. Your dorm was shared with girls who seemed to have no other concerns then your blood status. You were a pureblood, of course, but their questions only caused you further distress. That night you cried silently into your pillow.
That night, and the next, and the next.
Eventually, you learned to cope to the cold dungeons. You became calm and emotionless, like the others. Learning to adapt to your surroundings.
James’s mutters of who you really were hurt more then you could ever imagine. You loved James Potter before you knew what love was. You were sure whatever yearning was in your chest went both ways. You guess you were wrong.
He made new friends, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. He wanted nothing to do with you.
So, you made friends as well. Cruel ones but ones who would protect you. Avery, Mulciber. Severus Snape was the only one you stayed consistently close to. You disliked Lily Evans, for no reason other than the fact she was everything you wanted to be. Gryffindor, smart, pretty, and had James’s attention. You hated watching him outgrow you, and Severus didn't particularly like that you didn't like Lily, but he hated James Potter so you both remained in an isolated boat of similarity.
As the year went on you grew to hate your colors more then anything. You learned that no matter what had happened, Slytherin was at fault. No matter your justification, you were wrong. Keeping your head down and remaining quiet was the safest you'd have it.
When the year came to an end, you went home. You told your father of the more recent events and he was mortified. You found solas in his arms as you always did. Being home was like a time out, protection from everything else around you. You were alone and happy. Safe and as far away from James Potter as possible.
But that made the yearning worse.
Your father tried to convince you to write him a letter for closure, but you could never pick up a quill. You don't want to know the vile things he thought of you.
Much to your surprise, however, your father called you down a week into your summer break. At the door, none other then James Potter. He was sniffling, clenching the dragon statue in his hands and rubbing his eyes. Your father left you two be, and you welcomed him in.
Of course you did.
It was your Jamie.
The second he entered he told you about how woes, how his concerns for Sirius, his dear friend, his best friend, made him appreciate what he had a bit more. It also forced him to realize, he was doing the same to you. The isolation over a house was never fair. He felt like a right arse.
“So you don't hate me?” You sniffled.
James shook his head vigorously. “No, no, I'm sorry, {Y/N}.” He sobbed and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
He held you back tight, and nuzzled his nose into your cheek. “Forgive me?”
“Okay.” Your voice cracked.
You shouldn't have forgiven him, because it became a pattern. The summer you were back to as thick as thieves, you had never seen Mrs. Potter more relived then when you returned to their home.
But when school started again, he went back to practically no contact. It was your James, though. You needed him.
Over the years you went from best friends over the summer to semi strangers in the halls. Everytime he'd come to your door with a bright smile and take you to his house. Even your fathers relationship with Fleamont began to grew strained because of the behavior. You were so hurt, all the time, but James would fix it.
James would know what to say and when to say it. James, never having a malicious bone in his body, didn't seem to understand what he was doing to you. You didn't know either.
By the time year three rolled around, the four of them seemed to tamper down their hatred for Slytherins, focusing purely on the ones they deemed evil. Even letting you into their groups on occasion. You clung to what little James would give you everytime. You ignored your jealousy of Sirius and James' closeness. You ignored Remus’s pitiful looks and Peter's tactless comments.
However, you had began to grow into yourself a bit more over the school year. You had more time to yourself, more time away from James. You met a few new people, one being a girl named Pandora.
She observed you every time you were with James, would utter small comments here and there about what she found in the blandest monotone. It was tough love she didn't even intend. You quickly realized that the friendship you shared with James went from two friends who would rather die then be apart, to two people.
You were just people.
~~~~
That summer, when James came over to retrieve you, you made that clear.
“Well, it was nice seeing you, Potter.” You started with a soft smile in your doorway. He flinched at the formal name.
“What? You're not coming home?” He asked in a low heartbroken whisper. “My mum wants to see you.”
“I am home. I'll ask da if he plans to have you over for dinner.” You placate and look back to the proud but sympathetic look on your dads face from where he hid behind the door. As always, right there. “I'll see you later?”
“But- I- we don't get to hang out over the school year, I just figured-”
“Thank you again for the invite. Maybe some other time.”
When fourth year comes around you and James remain friendly in the halls. It was like the entire lives you had led before Hogwarts and over the summers were just secrets between the two of you now.
You spent more time with Severus, Dorcas, Pandora, Barty, and Regulus. That made Sirius oddly formal and kind to you as well, you expected the opposite.
It led to a small bit of bonding between the two of you, he would ask you about updates on Regulus and thank you like mad for you looking after the younger boy.
James didn't like how close you two were becoming outside of him. Everyday, you would meet Sirius outside of the library and he would walk you to the dungeons while you talked about his brother and the state of his mind, how he viewed what was happening in the household.
Your conversations would slowly trickle into your day to day life and Sirius would tell you of his. James noticed when Sirius began to get to the dorms later and later.
James would find it in himself to pester, if he wasn't so wrapped around Lily Evans’ finger. You knew it was unfair. You knew from the stories from Pandora, that if you just got to know her, you'd adore her. She was funny, brilliant, brave, kind, and she was enough woman to have James Potter, Severus Snape, and after a small listless confession, Pandora of all people in love.
You hated her, however. You couldn't bring yourself to like someone you wanted to be in the shoes of so badly.
~~~~
Over the summer, you learned Sirius Black had gone to live with the Potters after a particularly rough patch with his parents. With a quick letter to Regulus to gauge his view on the situation, you decided to check on eldest Black. You weren't insanely close with James anymore, but you still invited yourself over.
When the door opened after your knock you were yanked into a bone crushing hug by Fleamont, followed by Euphemia. They welcomed you in with open arms, like they always did. You greeted James with nothing more than a kind smile and walked right past him to go check on Sirius.
James stood in the middle of the hall, confused by your lack of enthusiasm to see him. Knowing the second you made it to the stairs, you were not here for him. A bitter feeling filled his chest.
You didn't know you were breaking the dumb boy's heart. He didn't know it either, but the look his mother gave him when you hurried up the steps said it all.
James had missed you. He had missed you more than life itself. He spent his summers moping in the treehouse you both never went in, fiddling with the things you never should have had. He felt like he was missing a part of himself every time you learned to put your self preservation above his desperate need for you.
But things don't work out perfectly, something the ever spoiled James Potter didn't understand.
He snapped out of his little daze and ran upstairs after you.
You were sitting on the bed in the spare room, hip to hip with the pouty and tired Sirius. He seemed to be rambling on some flirty nonsense that had James growing a bit red.
“You know bird,” Sirius started and you scoffed.
“Don't call me bird.” You reprimanded and he gave you a cheeky smile, his swollen eye just adding to his sloppy charm.
“Birdette?” He offered.
“I'm going home. May your tea be too hot to drink and too cold when you return to it.” You mused and moved to stand before Black grabbed your wrist and nudged you down.
“Cruel witch!” He shouted and you put your hand on his chest, both laughing like fools. James' expression turned tart. You used to laugh with him like that. When you both settled you brush some hair from his face to behind his ear. His lochs clung to his face through the sweat.
“Are you sure you're alright?” You hummed and he nodded, pressing his burning and trembling temple to your cold hand and you thinned your lips.
“Fever has gone down. Mum will be pleased.” You hummed and Sirius gave you a confused look before it clicked to him who you were talking about. You knew her since before you could walk, of course you would consider her your mother. He spotted James in the doorway and noticed the small smile on the teens face when you spoke familiar of his mother.
Sirius knew, how couldn't he? Since year one the only person James seemed to talk about was you. Even when he was pretending to hate you, it was always about you. He could see the way you looked at James too, it was so painfully obvious. Even after all the years of borderline manipulation, something Sirius would grow bitter of if he thought too long about it.
“I should head home.” You hummed and grabbed the discarded rag on the nightstand to clean off some sweat around Sirius’s cheek and neck, doting on your friend much like you did for James.
“No!”
“No, please!”
Both boys shouted together. You jumped and turned to face James, not noticing he had been watching the entire interaction.
You bit your cheek and fiddled with the rag for a moment before you sighed. It was hard enough to say no to James, but a sick Sirius?
You caved.
You spent the summer at the Potter’s again, something your father was cautious of. You were older now, and so was James, you just managed to escape the ‘safe sex’ talk when you went back with James to gather spare clothes, the only thing left at James was from before puberty.
It made you a bit aware that James had grown up. He had always been taller than you, but now he was broader, more defined. Merlin, the boy you grew up with was knee weakening.
The summer was amazing. It was a delight, being around both of them so casually.
Being older now, your fun consisted of much more mature activities. They started innocent, like taking walks around the property where you and James reminisced, sharing your favorite memories of the place with Sirius. Your afternoons baking with Euphemia now shared with the boys who didn't seem to have anything better to waste their time on. Even swimming in the creek like kids.
But you were older now. Afternoon swimming turned into late night skinny dipping. Walks along the trail turned into hiding away in your tree fort, hardly big enough for all three of you and the things you hid away. Smoking Mallowsweet and trying to pretend you weren't high at the dinner table. Not that either parent seemed to mind, just happy you were doing it in a safe environment. They let you three believe you were sneaky however, knowing the thrill is the fun part.
A few days out from going back to school you and the two boys were sitting in the fort again. You took a drag from the messy blunt and passed it to Sirius. You took notice of how he watched the smoke leave your lips. You sent him a playful wink and he wet his lips.
You both turned back to James as he let out a low groan. The attention whore he was not liking how you two continued to share moments he was not apart of.
“What is it, Jamie?” You pushed and he ran his fingers through his hair. “I got word from Evans. Said she would stop reading my letters. Says she thinks I'm in love with someone already.” He huffed.
You rolled your eyes and looked at Sirius who put his hands up to show he would handle it. “Come on mate, she clearly doesn't want ya’ move on.”
You almost face palmed at how Sirius tried to handle it. You cut in when James gave a louder groan. “I know it's not what you want to hear, but some girls just.. aren't going to cave the more you bother them, Jamie.”
“I just don't get it! I'm charming, I'm funny, I'm bloody hot.”
You rolled your eyes hard and made eye contact with a smirking Sirius. “You know he gets this from you, right?”
He chuckled and you slowly smiled at his look. James seemed to grow even more upset when your attention was on Sirius and not him.
“Come off it, mate.” Sirius laughed. “She hasn’t even seen you date one person at that school.”
“That is true. I don't think I would date someone if I didn't have an idea of what it was like.” You remarked airily, rapping your knuckles against your chin.
“So.. date someone to show Lily I'm dateable?” James concluded and you rubbed your temple.
“Or, and just throwing this out there, date someone who wants you?” You scoffed and James rolled his eyes with a mutter. Something along the lines of no one he wants, wants him.
You paused your rubbing before Sirius quickly cleared his throat. “You can't just date someone to impress someone else.” You cut in. “That's incredibly cruel.”
“Well-”
“Sirius, as someone who has not once had a serious girlfriend-”
“I am Sirius. All my girlfriends are Sirius girlfriends-”
You threw a book at him and he blocked it with his forearms, laughing as you huffed.
“But ser- genuinely.” You mused. “Don't go breaking anyone's heart to get her attention.”
“Well, it won't hurt anyone if I.. fake date someone?” He offered and you gave him a confused look. He slowly smiled, a smile that surely meant a bad idea.
“Jamie-”
“Hear me out! Hear me out!” He mused and sat up straighter. “One of you, date me, just for a few months! I can show her how good of a boyfriend I really am!”
You looked at Sirius with the most bewildered and offended look.
“I will not.” Sirius mused and finally put the blunt down. “Love you, but I would rather lick my own boot.”
James scoffed and looked at you hopefully. You bit your lip and thought about it for a moment, you were caving, you knew you were.
How bad could it be? Getting a slice of what you wanted more than anything. James’s full attention. Before you could answer, you heard Sirius mutter your name.
It was so soft, it was so gentle, like if he said it too loud you'd run. You looked over to him, and he gave you a look you couldn't quite decipher. Though, the implication was clear. Don’t.
You sighed through your nose and leaned your head back. Trying to sober yourself up before you continue this conversation. James wiggled his way over to you, putting his arm over your shoulder. “Come on, {Y/N}.” He whined and you thinned your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes. You could melt into them.
Your eyes, not of your own accord, flicked to Sirius and he was still staring at you. Then you realized what the look was, caution. You bit your bottom lip and didn't notice James glaring heavily at Sirius. As if warning him. Sirius's eyes never left yours.
“... Sorry Jamie.” You muttered and he huffed, pulling away from you sharply. You pouted and slowly hugged your knees. Far more valuable with your mind warped by the drugs influence.
James waved his hand dismissively and you looked down at your feet. You watched as a pair of Doc Martens slipped into view on either side of your ankles. You looked up at the owners. You had never seen such a proud look on Sirius’s face. Well, safe for when you told him of Regulus’s new found defiance. He held the smuggest smile and you felt your heart throb. Approval.
“I don't get it, come on {Y/N}-”
“Who does she think you love anyway, James?” Sirius huffed, taking your friend’s attention from you. You sent him an appreciative look.
“She thinks I'm in love with {Y/N}.” He scoffed and your breath hitched a bit. “I mean, it doesn't help that we haven't dated anyone. I figured that if me and {Y/N} dated and broke up she would see how crazy she is.”
You purse your lips at that. Yeah. Crazy. Why would James Potter ever love you?
“Oh!” James exclaimed and sat up, “What if you got a boyfriend?” James pried and you arched an eyebrow at him. “Or, you know, girlfriend.”
You scoffed. As if that was the issue!
“James, I am not going to date someone just to leave them so you can get with Lily.” You crossed your arms over yourself now, and James groaned. “Come on, please? I mean, you can tell them it's fake! I mean, I'm sure even Sirius would be willing-”
“Nope.” Sirius popped his lips and you looked up at him with a startled surprise. You couldn't help but melt at how he winked at you, nudging your ankles with his feet. “I'm not going to tarnish our little dragon’s reputation, here.”
You rolled your eyes playfully as James’s groans faded out. You looked up as a bell began to ring, signaling it was time to come inside for dinner. James got up and hurried out of the tree, Sirius was next, sending you a look as he climbed down, curious. You simply smiled at him and followed after, knowing it would reassure him.
You thought James had dropped it, but as you set the table and gathered drinks for everyone, the boys at the table began to idly talk.
“Anything interesting happened today?” Fleamont asked you as you set his coffee down by his hand, kissing his eyebrow, making him chuckle.
“No, Uncle Flea.” You hummed and set down Euphemia’s tea and did the same. She returned the kiss, leaving you unaware of how James seemed to be eyeing you. You set down Sirius’s drink and he poked his cheek, leaning closer to you. You kissed your hand and smacked him. He laughed and you finished up, taking your seat across from the boys on your own side of the table.
“How about you, son?” Flea asked Sirius next, and Black shrugged. “Nothing really.”
“Really? You're not going to tell him?” James smirked and you looked at him curiously, confused. Sirius shared your look and James continued. “I mean, If you won't, I will.” He cheeked.
“James what are you-” Before you could even finish, he threw his hands up in an exaggerated announcement.
“Sirius and {Y/N} are dating!”
Your jaw went slack in shock and Sirius snapped his head over, dumbstruck.
“I- what- James Potter!” You shouted at him, he smirked at you. This cheeky little bastard. There was a loud thud from under the table as you kicked him. Hard. The poor boy winced and tried to keep his face straight.
“James you bloody-” Sirius started with a clench jaw before Euphemia gave a laugh.
“No need to be shy you two, however, James you shouldn't have told us before they were ready.” She scolded and Fleamont gave a chuckle and clapped Sirius on his shoulder.
“Just be safe, boy. Mr. {L/N} and I are not ready to be grandpas.” He cheeked and you slowly sunk into your seat and covered your face, groaning low as Sirius began to stammer over himself, not sure if he should explain himself or not.
James was so dead.
~~~
You paced in your room, hands over your mouth in deep thought. James was cleaning the kitchen and Sirius was closing down the house, their respective chores of the night. You sat on your bed and tried to figure a way out of this, before someone knocked on your door.
You looked up and waved your wand to open the door, Sirius walking in holding James by his ear. The taller boy was cursing and following close behind. “Ow ow ow ow-”
“James Fleamont Potter!” You whisper hissed and stood up, Sirius smirking, for once, not the one in trouble.
“Hear me out-”
“No! We will do no such thing!” You continued to whisper-shout at him. “You need to tell them you were lying!”
James bit his cheek and looked at Sirius who was avoiding his eyes. “It's just a few months-”
“James-”
“Hear me out! Just, just three months! You saw how excited they got.” James pleaded and you sighed. Covering your face before you peaked between your fingers at Sirius who gave you a playfully scandalized look.
“Am I the only one with common sense here?” Sirius scoffed and you groaned.
“It would seem so. Frightening, innit?”
“Debilitating, actually.” He sighed playfully and you laughed.
There was a long pause between you and Sirius. James watched as you two seemed to be communicating between your eyes. James slowly pouted as he was, once again, left out of the loop.
“Fine.” You sighed and Sirius bit his lip. “Alright, three months.”
~~~
You were not ready for the whirlwind that was sixth year. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time.
You had forgotten about the ever growing issue of telling Regulus Black of your new found status with his brother. To your complete shock, he seemed happy about the news.
“Bloody finally.”
“The hell do you mean finally?”
“If I had to go one more school year watching my brother make eyes at you, I'd vomit. Just keep it behind closed doors please.”
Eyes? Your friends were going mad. Pandora seemed to actually express visual joy when you told her, smiling with a hand over her heart, with a simple. “That's lovely.”
Barty, Sirius’s self proclaimed nemesis, even seemed relieved. Though, he had to admit, he didn't figure you for someone who wanted to be with a player.
The only one who seemed to take the news hard was Severus, reminding you of the prank and how that bastard tried to kill him. You listened to his concerns, but in truth, you knew Sirius wasn't the only one at fault. You had, in fifth year, confronted Sirius about what had happened and he admitted his fault in it.
You knew it wasn't for you to forgive, but if you couldn't forgive him, what place did you have being crossed about it?
Eventually, Severus, Avery, and Mulicber wanted nothing to do with you. As Severus hurt, you had to admit, he was camaraderie found in misery. You refused to be miserable anymore.
Remus was the first to notice it, how much you had grown and who you had left behind. He also seemed to be you and Sirius’s biggest fan, and unexplainably protective of your relationship.
Before you knew it, you were sitting at the Gryffindor table every day, nuzzled under Sirius’s arm and watching him as he rattled on about Quidditch practice and the start of the season. You didn't really care about the game, you only used to watch to support Regulus as a seeker, which seemed to please James as well.
“Do you have a spare jersey?” You pressed your pinky to his side gently, muttering into his shoulder. Sirius looked down at you, a bit startled by your comment. He narrowed his eyes at you curiously and you pressed your tongue to your cheek. Watching as his expression shifted a bit and his cheeks turned a soft red.
“A jersey?” He pushed, trying not to get his hopes up. You gave a laugh at his nervous question.
“All I have are Slytherin colors.” You mused and slipped your arm around his back and nuzzled into his chest a bit. Regulus giving a playful gag, poking his finger to the back of his throat at your public displays of affections.
You giggled before James spoke up, he had been so quiet you didn't even notice him. “You can wear mine, I have an old Seeker one from before I was captain.” He hummed and Sirius stiffened against you a bit. You watched his jaw clench, and his attention was finally torn from you, playfully glaring at James.
“James-”
“Thanks Jamie.” You mused and Sirius snapped his attention back to you, just for you to be smiling up at him. “But I want to wear my boyfriend's name.”
Sirius swore he lost the air in his lungs. Remus whistled and you laughed at the out of character display.
“You're so fucking whipped-” Regulus huffed with a roll of his eyes and before you could turn to reprimand him, Sirius wrapped his other arm around you and pulled you practically on his lap. “Better be, just f’me.” He mumbled against your ear. No one else could hear him, you wondered why he even said it.
Regardless, you didn't think your heart could beat that fast for anyone but James.
~~~
Three months passed faster then you thought it possibly could. The cautious and careful moments between you and Sirius turned familiar and confident. From your new routine between classes to show everyone just how in love you surely were to the private moments you weren't positive you should be having with the best friend of the boy you loved.
Reality was slowly blending together with your facade, from him sneaking off with you to the astronomy tower, and your walks along the Black lake when no one could see you two.
Even now, where you laid in his bed, alone. Remus doing his Prefect duties and James’ surely wowing Lily. You were sitting with your back against the headboard, reading to Sirius as he hummed and dozed off. You propped the book against his arm that wrapped around your middle, your other hand tangled in his hair. He seemed to be in just a blissful state, absolutely unraveled as your nails ran over his scalp.
You trailed off, just admiring the sleepy boy. Slowly leaning closer to see if he had fallen asleep yet.
You were spending time with the boys in their common room. Sirius had complained about his horrid sleep schedule, and when you, ever the good girlfriend, suggested you read to him. He laughed at first. When you puffed up your cheeks and told him it always worked for James, suddenly his tune changed.
He practically dragged you up to their shared dorm and left Peter and James behind, snuggling up to you, like he said a proper boyfriend would. Your heart was going mad at first. You hadn't been in their dorm, let alone in Sirius’s bed before. He acted so natural about it, you tried to stifle the green monster that seemed to have switched targets from Lily to Sirius’s past flings.
You don't know when it changed, but looking down at Sirius’s peaceful face, how he seemed so comfortable with you in his arms and pressed against your body, you knew you had ruined your chances at a normal love life. Falling in love with Sirius Black was the worst idea you never had.
Suddenly, Sirius stirred, eyes opening, sagged and low, clearly still tired. Your eyes locked, and this warm feeling filled you as he slowly smiled at you. You didn't even feel nervous, just.. just peaceful.
“Is the book done?” He muttered and you slowly nodded. His eyes never leaving yours. There was a bit of quiet before he began to speak. “Dragon-”
Then the door slammed open. “Don't be naked!” James huffed, covering his eyes. You have a nervous laugh as your cheeks flushed, looking away. Sirius gave a low and annoyed groan. It was gravely and deep as he sat up. You did not need that stuck in your head right now.
“Damn it mate, I'm trying to sleep.” Sirius huffed and James seemed startled at your state. You were actually reading to him. When he heard ‘sleep’ his mind wandered to Sirius’s typical use for it. The idea of you sleeping with Sirius didn't get under his skin, but the idea of loosing a piece of you that was once his, did.
Instead, he walked in on you and him. Doing one of his favorite things. One of you and his favorite things. You were really reading to him. He slowly frowned as your fingers left Sirius’s hair. You pouted up at him, not even seeming to care James was there, just upset that your weighted blanket moved.
He didn't like that. Not at all.
Sirius shifted and his palm pressed down a bit too much weight on your thigh and you hiss. He quickly got off of you and muttered an apology.
“It's okay Siri.” You whispered and rubbed your skin. He took a deep breath. That bloody nickname.
“You know.” James cut in and you and Sirius looked over at him. “It's been three months.”
He gestured to the two of you and you looked back up at Sirius with nervous eyes. He seemed to try to study yours as well.
“I think that's long enough.” He challenged.
You slowly took a breath, Sirius seemed to be waiting on your word. “Well.. are you with Lily yet?” You questioned, looking over at the tan skinned boy and James gave you a scandalous look.
“I mean-”
“That was the deal, right?” Sirius asked and looked back at James, getting comfortable over you once more, nuzzling his head right against your stomach. You smiled down at him, not noticing the looks him and James shared. Not particularly friendly.
“You asked us, James.”
“I wouldn't say what he did was asking.” You mumbled and Sirius chuckled, looking back up at you and gesturing to the book. You glanced at a red faced James before carefully grabbing the book and opening it. You didn't care to watch James' betrayed expression. He had done this to himself.
~~~
“It's going to be so fun, Sirius!” Peter declared and James laughed, “Yeah, what's more important then charming the stairs to move when a Slytherin tries to talk on it?”
Remus smirked at Sirius who simply gave a fond smile and a sigh. “Sorry, I have business with my lovely dragon.”
Remus gave Sirius a proud smile and the tatted boy rubbed the back of his neck.
“What, are you two shagging?” Peter asked with a bored look and Remus smacked him.
“Thank you Moony, and no, I'll have you know. We haven't even kissed yet.” He huffed and James’s jaw went slack. Why would Sirius admit that?
Why in the bloody hell would I admit that? Sirius thought, mortified. He keeps forgetting this isn't a true relationship. It's been five months, Sirius wasn't known to wait longer than a week.
Peter was rubbing the back of his head with a huff and Remus gave Sirius a surprised look. Sirius looked anywhere but their faces.
“You two.. haven't kissed?” Remus pushed and Sirius shrugged. “Just.. I'm her first boyfriend, she is nervous. You know, all that stuff. She's sensitive.”
When he looked at the group he got a variety of different looks. Peter was shocked, James was confused, and Remus looked purely ecstatic.
“Seems Sirius found someone worth waiting for, hm?” Remus teased and Sirius flipped him off.
“I'm done talking to you lame-os anyway. She's waiting for me in the library.” He huffed and hurried off the opposite side of the hall, face red and absolutely humiliated. Even then, he couldn't think of anything but seeing you.
In the background, he could hear James shout. “To study!?”
~~~
You waited for Sirius in the library like you promised, thumbing threw a few of your school books and comparing you and Sirius’s grade cards. Since him and you began the charade, his grades had improved greatly. He seemed to start to care about studying. He, ever the flirt, would always say if he got to spend time with you, spending the day studying in the library wasn't entirely awful.
When Sirius showed up, you couldn't help how the most excited smile grew on your lips. You and Sirius were quietly enjoying each other's presence, but about an hour into your session you heard a voice call out to you. It was soft, soothing, and it sounded like honey.
“Can we join you?”
You looked up confused, staring into the green eyes of Lily Evans. You expected that familiar bitter twist of your chest to settle, but you didn't feel a negative emotion towards her. You looked beside her and there stood Mary Macdonald, Marlene Mckibbon, and Dorcus Meadows. You smiled at Dorcas and she nodded to you.
“Of course you can.” You gestured to the table, turning to Sirius for approval and he looked surprise by your answer. You smiled at him and shrugged, leaning a bit closer and whispered, “It'll help, yeah?”
“Help?” He mumbled back and you smirked against his cheek. Giving him a small kiss against it. “For Jamie, Siri.”
You pulled away and smiled at Lily as she turned to talk to you. Sirius was staring at you like you stole his voice, but he didn't want it back.
Pandora was right, when you got to know Lily, you did like her. Quite a lot.
By the end of the day, you and Lily were laughing with your arms linked, leaving the Library.
“Merlin, we should have talked ages ago!” She smiled bright at you and you laughed, nodding in agreement.
“Most definitely, when do you usually study?” You pushed and Dorcas muttered a goodbye, turning to leave without you and the redhead. Mary smirked at the scene and Marlene wrapped her arms around your neck.
“We are here too!” She complained and you laughed louder. You liked Marlene, but it seemed the bitter feeling that was once aimed at Lily was now on her. You really wish Pandora didn't tell you about her and Sirius having the longest standing relationship out of all of his past wix.
She was with Mary now, she didn't have any interest in Sirius. Merlin, please save you. Jealousy was your biggest weakness. Other then that, blending in with the girls was easy. They were so delightful.
Eventually, Sirius managed to pry you away from the three, leaving you reaching back for them and earning laughs from the girls. Sirius eventually lifted you up on his shoulder so you'd stop fighting him.
That distracted you.
Damn his beater toned arms.
You looked back at him from where he was holding you, making it to the stairs to the dungeons. You flinched a bit when you heard Dorcas curse. You looked back and saw her, stuck in the middle of the stairs, trying to walk down as the stairs moved against her downward steps up.
You gawked at it and nudged Sirius’s shoulder. “Someone is after you boy’s title.” You teased and Sirius shook his head.
“It was the boys.” He remarked and hoisted you up properly, watching as Dorcas managed to fight her way to the bottom. Holding her knees with an aggregated pant. You laughed and tried not to get too in your head about what he said and the conclusion you came to. He spent the day with you instead of pranking with the boys.
“How will we get down?” You asked and he smirked. “It just works with Slytherins.” He cheeked and suddenly began hurrying down the stairs. You yelped and clung to his back. He laughed and fixed his grip on your thighs to keep you over his shoulder. You huffed as you got to the bottom, only for Dorcas to tutt at you.
“You're huffing!?”
You laughed and he set you down. Dorcas waved you off and you tried to cover your smiling face.
You watched Dorcas enter the dorms, you followed after her before you paused and turned to face Sirius, who was watching you with his hands in his pockets. Trying not to seem winded.
“Hey, Siri.” You called him over and he tilted his head. Walking over to you, you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down a bit.
His hands snaked around your hips and he went to hold his breath. You smiled at him and he seemed startled and waiting not so patiently for your next move. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, and your eyes were locked in his lips. This was okay right? This is what partners do?
“Sirius, can I-”
Before you could even properly ask, Regulus rudely interrupted.
“Alright you, stop sucking my brother's face.” Regulus’s voice rang from behind you and you refused to budge. Sirius smirked and moved in, before Regulus yanked you back by your hood. The door closing behind you. He could faintly hear your sounds of disapproval.
Sirius stared at the door for far longer than he should have. Thinning his lips as he tried to remind himself. This was fake. And you loved James.
~~~
Eight months. Late April, and you were sitting in the Gryffindor stands watching the final game of the year. Well, if you could call trying to locate colors on the foggy backdrop with blistering rain watching.
You sat with Lily, Mary, Remus and Peter. It was foggy, drizzling, and the match lasted hours. You were wrapped up in one of Sirius’s leather jackets, it didn't do much to cut through the chill.
You didn't want to lie and say you understood what was happening, just that James and Regulus had yet to catch the snitch. Occasionally, the stands would cheer and you would throw your hands up in support of it all. Watching as Lily laughed at you.
“Sweetness, you look lost.” Lily sang to you, and you bite your bottom lip. “That obvious?”
“Only to everyone.” She laughed and put her hand on your arm, pulling you up. You both walked over to the railing and she put her hand above her brow and looked around. You looked at her movements, before copying her body language.
“There!” She cheeked and pointed out a billowing red cape, hardly making out James' name. You smiled and leaned closer. “Is that Jamie?”
“It … is.” Lily muttered softly and looked at you from the corner of her eye, as if looking for any sign of affection for the boy. Beyond platonic. To her pleasant surprise, your next words made her smile.
“Do you see Siri?” You asked, leaning closer so she could hear you above the cheering fans and the loud beating rain.
Lily lit up, laughing, gesturing over towards one of the goals. You narrowed your eyes and began to hit your heel against the wooden floor. The smile that unfolded onto your cheeks was far brighter then she'd ever seen you look at James.
Lily saw it, the shift in your eyes.
She wasn't the first one to see it, but she wouldn't be the last.
“Oh! Oh! They found it!” Lily exclaimed and you snapped your attention over to where Lily pointed. You looked down and your eyes widened, watching as James and Regulus raced for the snitch.
“Regulus!” You screamed.
“James!” Lily cheered.
Your eyes snapped to each other and you both began to laugh. You loved James, but come on, Slytherin could use this.
You both looked back and began to cheer and chant their names. Lily screamed out in delight as James caught the snitch, and you leaned over the railing with an exaggerated, “Booo!!” James noticed and you quickly covered your mouth.
Remus bellowed a laugh at James’s offended but playful look.
“Gryffindor wins!! I think.” The announcer screamed over the intercom. You laughed and turned to look at Lily who was already running down the stairs.
You scrambled with a bit of a slip as you hurried after her to the pitch. The red head was far faster than you, however. Remus just strolled back with Mary, who was rambling about how cool her girlfriend looked. You just missed her talking about how tone her girlfriends arms were-
It's the beaters charm, really.
When you made it to the pitch you watched James land, Lily practically tackling him off his broom. The boy wrapped his arms around her and spun her around. The team cheering and screaming in delight, the stands going mad with confetti. He looked up to you and let go of Lily, turning to face you as he brandished the snitch.
You lit up to match his smile, but before you could make it over to congratulate him, you saw Sirius land threw the crowd. You felt your entire body grow gittery, from your tightening toes to your squaring shoulders. He tossed the bat to the ground and ruffled his wet hair. He looked breathtaking. You watched as he threw his arm around Marlene, the two laughing and flexing a bit at each other. You narrowed your eyebrows a bit.
That was enough for you to take a few large steps forward. “Sirius!” You called over.
First things first, you were not jealous. You certainly weren't jealous, not of Marlene, she loved Mary. But you would be happy if he wasn't touching her- or if she just took two huge steps back. You wouldn't be upset about that.
Sirius looked over to you and his smile grew brighter, letting go of Marlene. Good. He began hurrying over to meet you. Eventually, you broke into a jog and he matched your pace. James watched in confusion as you threw yourself into his arms as your excitement grew. You laugh as he lifts you up and spun you around. You looked down at him with a bright smile, blocking out the rain from falling on his chiseled face. Your hands moved to his cheeks and he opened his eyes slowly. He paused in the center of the court and you bite your bottom lip. He wanted terribly to pull it between his own teeth.
“You won.” You whispered and his hands slipped higher up your sides. The intimate moment so public his hands felt like fire on your cold wet skin.
“I did.” He whispered and you leaned your body against his. He kept you up easily despite his throbbing muscles. You leaned your lips right above his, eyes locked in a trance. “Do I.. do I get a reward?” He whispered and glanced down at your lips.
You laughed, leaning down and completed the kiss. Holding him firm against yourself, he met you with pure hunger. Slowly setting you down, without breaking the kiss. You moved closer against him, your bodies meeting without an inch between your limbs.
This is okay, right? You thought blissfully. This was for James.
You both were lost to the world. Ignoring anyone else as Sirius began to grab at you with so much intensity you gasped. He took the opportunity to introduce your tongues.
You didn't notice as James gave a pained expression. He wasn't sure why you going to Sirius bothered him so much.
No, he knew why. He felt like he was losing you. Like everything that made James special to you was being replaced with Sirius. It was his own bloody fault.
Lily noticed his wandering eyes and her lip twitched. Resolving herself to take his cheeks and turn him to look at her. He slowly smiled and leaned down to take a kiss. She met him with a happy hum.
The moment went from bitter jealousy to melting joy. This was your favorite game yet.
“Am I just chopped liver!?” Regulus finally exclaimed, the only thing pulling your attention from your lip lock. You threw your head back with a laugh, and Sirius just stared with a love sick smile, kiss bruised lips, and in absolute joy.
~~~
By the time summer came around you were around the Potters more and more.
You stopped spending the night so much, the older you got the more Euphemia seemed to believe you and Sirius were being closer then close most nights. Making teasing remarks that killed you. Eventually, you stopped coming over when Sirius joined in on the teasing.
Your father and you were invited over tonight, however. You didn't want to introduce your father to Sirius, the man had a bigger heart then most, and you knew it would hurt him to meet your ‘first love’ just to lose him months later. You didn't think this would last so long.
So when the door opened and Flea welcomed you in, you were shocked to see Sirius on the couch, hair combed, clothing presentable, even hiding some of his newer tattoos he got over your time in muggle London. He smiled over at you and your father, standing up and walking over.
You were stunned by just how charming he was trying to be. Your father looked surprised, looking to you in confusion, as if he had expected someone else tonight.
“Sirius Black then? I know of your family.” He remarked and Sirius faltered a bit. You walked over to link your arm with his. He looked to you and smiled soft, hesitantly. Your father seemed completely pleased.
As the night went on you guys moved to the parlor room. You were ecstatic to learn Lily was coming as well, and when she got there, the night turned much more lively.
You were laying your legs across Sirius lap and laughing at your father and Flea’s ever heated debate about his most recent business decisions. Lily was listening intently, happy to learn more about the inner workings of the wizarding world. James was sitting on the floor with his head in her lap and her fingers tangled in his locks.
Sirius put a hand on your chin and turned you over to look into his eyes. You gave him a smile and nudged his arm with your knee. You leaned your chin greedily into his hand, wanting the full contact of his palm. When he gave it to you, you leaned your cheek into it. He stared at you and you pressed your lips together. “Sirius?”
“Yeah?” He whispered.
“What's this?” You whispered and slowly wrapped your hand around his wrist and turned to kiss his hand. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes. He about died.
“Awe, young love.” Euphemia cooed and you were startled back to the moment, pulling from Sirius who quickly fixed himself to look at the three parents, James effectively out of the conversation without a care.
Lily laughed and Flea reached over to pat Sirius’s shoulder. “What did I always say, {Y/N}?”
“Hm? What's that Flea?” You hummed and looked back at the men and Euphemia, he chuckled.
“Every Potter has a Slytherin.” He cheeked and winked at Sirius whose face turned to one of pure shock. You lit up at him and back to Sirius, who was smiling like a fool. You mirror his look and then Mrs. Potter spoke up next.
“I'm so glad you two figured it out.” She hummed..
“What was that?” You mumbled and looked back at her in pure confusion.
“Oh, that boy has been making heart eyes at you since he first got here. I could tell he was smitten.” Mrs. Potter mused a matter of factly, looking over at Sirius just past your confused expression, who was making a lip zipping motion, she gave him an amused and curious look, which made you turn and smirk at him. He quickly tried to play it off, earning a laugh from the group.
James rolled his eyes at their interaction, and Lily pouted a bit. Still confused as to why he seemed so determined to dislike the two together.
“You know, it's been a few months since me and Lily got together.” He remarked to the room, eyes on you and Sirius. You frowned a bit and looked away, Sirius met his look with a challenging one of his own. Euphemia narrowed her eyes but the men seemed none the wiser.
“And how lovely Lily is.” Fleamont mused and gestured to her, she smiled at him, happy with how they seemed to accept her so easily.
The night went smoothly from there.
Eventually, it was time to head home. The Potters, Evans, and Black walked you both to the door. You said your goodbyes, but whenever you would glance at Sirius he seemed preoccupied with your lips.
It wasn't something you thought you'd ever find attractive, how desperately Sirius wanted to kiss you at any given moment. Here you were, however, absolutely melting.
You leaned up on your toes and gave him a quick peck. Your dad smiled at this, but before you could turn away Sirius wrapped his arms around you and stole another longer kiss. If only by seconds. You laughed into his lips and he smiled against yours. Muttering a goodbye before you and your father finally apparated away.
You didn't think tonight could get much better, but when you looked up at the stairs to your manor, you locked eyes with familiar bright grey ones. Regulus Black, with a suitcase and a bruised cheek, giving you a cautious stare. Like a stray cat, ready to bolt, but instead of attention it was the first sign of rejection.
Regulus Black was a proud boy, like his brother. He was far too determined to do something and everything by himself.
Your father looked confused, before he glanced at you, like he was seeing double in one night.
You hurried up the stairs, not answering your father immediately as you moved to grab his bag. To your absolute shock, Regulus fell into you before you could, hands clenching your sleeves. You were bewildered, Regulus never wanted to be touched.
You didn't have to think twice before you wrapped your arms around his middle and pulled him in close. The younger boy crying softly into your shoulder. Tonight was a startling night for firsts with the Black children, but you didn't hesitate to embrace it.
Your father picked up his luggage and muttered something about fixing up a room for him as he went inside. You were content to comfort Reggie.
~~~
Once Regulus was comfortable in the spare room, you talked. He told you everything about what had happened the past month, and your heart broke. Regulus and you were closer than most, but he still kept cards to his chest. He was paranoid, but in his weakness, he showed you all of them.
He told you what they expected of him, at just fifteen they told him he would be expected to go through with what his brother could not. How when he expressed even the slightest hesitance, they resulted in reprimanding him like Sirius.
He told you how he missed his brother, how he hated being alone in that house. He left the second his mother went to Paris on business, trying to get him a deal with a pureblood overseas.
He promised he would only be there for a few nights at most. His expression was blank but his voice was soaked in sullen misery, sitting beside you on the bed and staring at the wall.
“Where will you go, Regulus?” You reached for his hand and he didn't pull away.
“I'll figure it out.” He mumbled and you gave an offended laugh.
“You're mad if you think I'll let you leave with no plan.” You scoffed. “Regulus, you're safe here.”
“I'm a burden here.” He snapped back, eyes flicking to yours. They were full of pain you were familiar with. Your lips parted and you tried to read his expression, before something sparked in your mind. Burden?
“Regulus, you could never be a burden to me. To us.” You whispered and he sniffled. The shock that went through your body wasn't foreign.
“Reggie…” You paused and tilted your head to try to get him to express what was under all of this. You knew he was prideful and independent, but this didn't seem in character. Not for you two.
A guilt filled you as he refused to meet your eyes. Your eyes widened. Was he.. was he angry with you? “Reggie-”
“Listen. I don't want to get between you and my brother. I'm glad you love him. I'm glad he has someone to love. Just wish you stayed my friend too.” He scoffed and sniffled, the tension in your body fell away. You slowly covered your mouth.
He was right.
You had been spending every waking moment with Sirius since school began again. Pandora had Dorcas, Barty had Evans, Severus had his horrid friends. Regulus didn't have anyone. He would come to the Gryffindor table to spend meals with you, but after, before, Merlin, even during, you were focused on his brother.
The one thing he had with you, Quidditch, and you ran to his brother when he won. Didn't even check on him for his loss. You thought his words were playful that day but truly? You were cruel.
You had abandoned him. To his family, to his self doubt, you left him alone.
You had done what James had done to you.
“Oh Reggie.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He leaned his head against your shoulder but didn't hug back.
That night was filled with heart filled apologies, promises of a better tomorrow, and a guarantee Regulus had a home with you and your father.
It made you wonder, how you felt so guilty and ruined over the simple idea of what you had done to Regulus. Even his forgiveness didn't seem to be enough. James didn't seem the least bit apologetic in his words to you. Not as much as you thought he should.
Eventually, you let him sleep. You lettered Sirius, with Regulus’s permission, of his status.
You woke up early the next morning to your father calling you downstairs. Watching the Black brothers embrace healed something in you that you didn't know needed. Sirius looked so happy, and you watched Regulus grow flustered at his brother's affection. Laughing out as Regulus eventually pushed his sappy brother away and declared he was going back to his room.
You both shared a look as he disappeared.
The summer was the best yet.
~~~
Once school began, James and you had your last separation.
You came to him, voicing your thoughts about his cruelty towards you. He was confused as to where this came from, considering you had forgiven him. You had to remind him, you never did. You stayed at his house for Sirius that summer, he never apologized.
He had changed a lot, he kept true to his promise to better himself for Lily. You were proud of him, but it still hurt. Like a wound that continued to reopen whenever you were reminded that he didn't seem to truly care about what he had done to you. Just wanted to bury it. There was that nagging voice, telling you to just forgive him. Forgive and forget about it.
Then, would you accept that treatment for Regulus? It took seeing it through his eyes to understand you deserved more than an eight year olds apology. But that's what you got.
“Look, I get it. I really am sorry. Forgive me?”
“No.”
“... no? What, {Y/N}, come on. It's been two years now-”
“And I've tried. I have tried so hard, James. But as I've seen it.. I've fought to keep you in my life. You have never done that for me.”
“Fought for you? This isn't some book-”
“That's all I need, James. Just show me better.”
The argument that ensued was short and to the point. Nothing was resolved, so you left it that way. You wouldn't put forward the effort to keep a sense of normalcy despite the pain.
You were content with who you had, you would learn to get over the people you lost.
Your hand was off the wheel. You were done chasing after James Potter. You knew your father would be proud of you. You knew Sirius was proud of you, Regulus too. You never felt so at peace with the people you chose. Not because you never knew any better, but because they wanted you just as badly as you wanted them.
You and Sirius’s relationship was still dancing the line. You both knew that if this truly was just for James benifit it would have been over by now. You both were content as it was. Nothing said, nothing lost.
You both continued to blur the lines between you both, until the first win of the Quidditch season. It didn't take much convincing for him to lock Peter out of their dorm, leaving just you both to do what two young adults would. Something you both agreed was long overdue.
~~~
James had spent his night much the same way, waking up with Lily.
James was happy with Lily, she was everything he ever wanted. There was still something, however, eating him alive inside. He missed you. He didn't know how to handle his part in your departure, still unable to hold himself accountable for the pain he caused you all those years ago. Because you were kids! Practically siblings. Why did he have to prove he cared?
He pushed the thoughts away as Lily woke beside him. Giving him her breathtaking smile, something that James couldn't help but smile back at.
“Morning.” She sang so sweetly, leaning in to steal and lazy and long kiss. They both smiled into it, content at the moment.
James gave a laugh as Lily rolled onto his lap. Biting her lip as she grabbed the top of the bed frame. “Jamie~” She sang and he looked her up and down, giving a low groan as he snapped forward to kiss her, and like the tease she was, she rolled back over onto her back off his lap.
Neither of them had time to process what happened next, she hit her shoulder on his dresser and hissed. Leaning forward to cover her arm. He moved to rub her skin before he heard the sound of something hitting the floor.
He narrowed his eyes and looked over Lily, his face filling with dread.
Grandos. The dragon statue your father had carved all those years ago, shattered on the ground.
He shot up from the bed, just as Lily looked over. “Jamie?” She whispered and he hurried to get dressed, panicked. Taking out a towel and setting the statue on it like it was the most precious thing in the world.
“Jamie, oh- Oh James I am so sorry-” She began and tried to sit up, he took a deep breath and shot to his feet.
He was crying. Why was he crying?
He was coming to terms with the fact that you would never speak with him again, the figurine didn't mean the end of the world. But it was his last piece of you.
The last thing he didn't share with Sirius. With Regulus. With Remus, with Lily. The last thing that meant you and James would have a connection beyond the silly fights and petty disagreements. The last thing from when you were James. His heart was breaking. “I- She can fix it, right? Do you think she can?” James pleaded to no one.
Lily's heart broke. She could tell immediately what this was about. “James-”
“I-I’ll be back.” He declared quickly and put on his cloak.
It didn't take long for him to make it to the Gryffindor common room, holding the broken figurine like it was a wounded bird. You looked up from your perch on Sirius’s lap, the black haired boy huffing when he lost your attention.
“{Y/N}!” He shouted and hurried over. You narrowed your eyebrows at him, and he shoved the broken pieces towards you. As always, expecting you to mend it.
“James?”
“Please I- I don't know how to fix it. I can't loose it, please.” He begged and your looked to Sirius who seemed just as bewildered. There was a thick silence, as Remus bit his cheek.
It was so painfully clear to everyone but James what this was about.
You sighed through your nose and thought for a moment. Slowly, taking out your wand and waving if. “Repairo.”
Like that, the carving was as good as new. All perfect with its chipped paint and jagged edges. James seemed stunned as he looked down at the polished toy.
You slowly folded your arms. “James?” You whispered.
He hung his head low in shame.
“James.” You called in a more steady voice. He nodded to show he was listening. You scoffed.
“That's the last time, James. I'm not fixing anything for you anymore.”
“I-”
“No. That's it.” You put your hands up and James gave a breathy scoff of his own. Gesturing to you and Sirius, the boys lips thinning.
“Why?” He whispered in a broken hearted whimper. “Why does this fake relationship matter more to you then ours?”
You stared at him with wide and furious eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me, James?”
“Dragon-” Sirius tried to call out to you and you scoffed, waving him off.
“James, I have spent my whole life cleaning up the mess you made of me!” You yelled at the suddenly sheepish boy. “I am prioritizing myself! For once! If you want me in your life, then prioritize me too! I am doing the same for my boyfriend.”
He scoffed. “He isn't even your serious boyfriend! You dated him for me!”
You took a deep breath and before you could say something, Sirius gave a cocky smirk. “We've been over this, yeah?” He snaked his hand around your waist and pulled you back, trying to defuse the situation. “Everyone I date is a Sirius-”
“Stop.” You huffed at him and covered his mouth. He put his hands up in surrender. “James, I think you knew this stopped being fake the moment we agreed to it.”
Sirius gave you the stupidest smile, before coughing into his palm and looked away as you glared at him. Not the time you adorable bloody idiot.
“I just… I thought-”
“James. Everything I did was for you. For 14 years. Forgive me if I'm over it.” You sighed and gestured to the figurine.
“Next time. Fix it yourself.”
657 notes · View notes
catherinnn · 1 month ago
Note
Hey can you do a fanfic where cheerleader reader tries to subtly ask Eddie out multiple times but he is clueless and never gets the hint. This goes on for a while until the hellfire club talks about how Eddie is missing out on Y/N, Eddie overhears and realises all the times reader has asked him out and how much of an idiot he's been. Reader confides in Chrissy feeling humiliated that she thought Eddie would like her, and decides to give up on Eddie. Then with the help of Chrissy and some Hellfire members, Eddie plans a romantic gesture for reader then finally asks her out.
Tenth Time's the Charm
a/n: Thank you for requesting love! Also, two fics in two days, I told you I was finally free. Don't doubt to write me more requests ♡
warnings: kind of insecure eddie, some swear words, and a bit suggestive at the end.
words: 2.3k. masterlist
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You were coming out of cheer practice with your friends, running to finally have lunch. You catch a glimpse of Eddie at his table, bickering with his friends. You can't help but stare at his messy curls and his adorable brown eyes from afar.
"Go talk to him" Chrissy tells you when she notices your staring.
"What do you mean?" you play dumb.
"You have such a crush on him, I know you" she says.
"He hates cheerleaders too probably" i shake your head.
"Oh, that's just an act. He would die on the spot if you asked him out!" she chuckles.
"You think?" you doubt.
"Go! I'm telling you!" she says.
"Alright, fuck it" you walk up to his table. "Hi, Eddie"
"H- hey" he looks at you confused.
"Um, I was wondering... are you free this Friday?"
"Uh... why?" he frowns.
"Well, i was thinking maybe we can hang out?" you say nervously.
"Oh... you need me to sell at some party? Sorry, princess, I don't sell anymore" he figures that is what you need.
"W- what? I don't-"
"You see that guy over there? He's Kevin, you can ask him" He turns around going back to his food, ignoring you.
You look at his back confused.
"Oh there you are! Lets go have lunch!" Jess, another of your cheer friends grabs your arm and walks with you, starting to talk to you about her problem with her boyfriend.
"So? Did you ask him out?" Chrissy asks you once you sit down at your table.
"Yeah, but I don't think he understood" you say.
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"He thought I wanted to buy weed!" you explain. "He told me to talk to that guy Kevin, and I just stood there! That was so embarrassing!"
"That’s not embarrassing! Just try again" she tries.
The next time you try it's when you find him at the parking lot. He was still bickering with one of his younger friends.
"Eddie?" you call him again.
"Yeah?" he frowns as he sees you again.
"Listen, I didn't want to buy anything from you earlier. I meant... Uh, you know there's a new movie, 'Ferri Bueller's Day Off'? They say it's really good" you say smiling.
"Man, hurry! We're gonna be late for rehearsal!" Another of his friends says from the window of the car. Gary you think his name was, something with a G.
"Coming! Uh, sure. Thanks princess, I'll be sure to swing by the theater if I'm free" he says in a hurry and runs into his van to leave.
You are left standing there once again, feeling foolish. Did he really think you were just suggesting a movie for him to watch? He cannot be that oblivious. Maybe you weren't being clear enough?
They say third time's the charm, so once again, you stand before Eddie at his locker.
"Hi, Eddie" you say trying to ignore the anxiety.
"Hey, I saw that movie you recommended, really fun actually" he says.
"Oh I'm glad! Umm, you know, there's a new ice skating place that opened up here in town. Maybe you would like to come with me?" you make sure to pronounce every single of those words in the question excellently so there is no more confusion.
"Ice skating?" he thinks and you nod. "Uh, I'm not very good at that, i broke my arm once doing it"
"Oh, well, It's okay. We can-"
"But you know who loves ice skating? Chrissy, you should ask her, she'd love to go with you" he says.
"What?" you ask.
"Yeah, she gets competitive though, so don't try to beat her!" he chuckles.
"Huh" you simply say.
"Anyway, see you in class" he smiles and walks away.
You sigh, staring at his back once again. You have to take the hint: he's not confused, he clearly doesn't want to go out with you. You decide to leave him alone. It's nice of him to not reject you directly, at least.
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Eddie was about to get in the drama room that next Friday, when he thinks he might have forgotten his dices. He stands at the door, looking through his bag.
"Did you hear what he did on Monday?" Eddie can hear Gareth's voice behind the door. "She asked him out to go ice skating and he told her to go with Chrissy instead, since he's bad at it"
"That’s it? And then he left?" Dustin asks surprised. "I can't believe him, he has a fucking cheerleader asking him out three times already! And he rejected her every single time!"
"He's an idiot with a big ego" Gareth says.
Eddie was standing there confused, but not for long since he can hear an angry voice calling him out.
"Munson!" Chrissy walks up to him, almost red-looking.
"W- what?"
"What is the matter with you?!" she asks.
"Chrissy, I can explain-"
"You better have a good explanation! My friend is an incredible girl and you'd be lucky to go out with her! Are you stupid?!"
"Listen! Listen! I didn't know she was asking me out!" he explains.
"What?" she looks at him as if he is in fact stupid.
"Ugh, I mean, you saw her! How would I ever think a girl like her was asking me out?! I thought she was just being friendly, which was odd enough on it's own! I know I'm an idiot-"
"You are... very much so, an insecure one" she nods.
"Does she hate me now?" he asks.
"No, she doesn't"
"Is there any way I can make this better? I would kill to go out with her!"
"Fine, I'll help you" she says.
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You can hear the honk outside your house, meaning Chrissy was waiting at her car. She came to pick you up to then go have a nice dinner together, maybe even go by the ice skating place after all as well.
"Ready?" she asks.
"Yeah, let's go" you confirm.
While she drives, you notice she took another route to get to the place. You look around confused.
"I have to make a quick stop first to pick something up" she explains.
"Oh, sure"
After ten minutes she stops at Forest Hill Trailer Park, a.k.a. Eddie's place.
"Come with me" she says before getting out of the car.
"Chrissy what are we doing here?" you ask getting nervous all of the sudden.
"Just trust me" she says and knocks on a trailer door before opening the door herself.
When you get in, you can see a living room illuminated with various candles, popcorn and wine already set at a table in front of the couch, acopanated by some movie options waiting to be chosen.
"Chrissy, I think we're interrupting something" you say, looking around. When you turn to Chrissy, you don't see her anymore, but instead you see Eddie walking out of his room, with flowers.
"Hey" he smiles at you.
"H- hi" you say surprised.
"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, first of all. I'm such an idiot" he starts, to then give you the flowers.
"These are beautiful" you smile at him.
"Listen, I would kill to go out with you, I swear. But I'm an oblivious idiot who thought you were just being friendly and sweet to me, recomending movies and inviting me to ice skate!" he chuckles.
"You cannot even begin to imagine what an asshole I felt when I realized you were trying to go out with me... but I mean, in my defense, in what world does the prettiest girl in this town wants to date the nerdy metalhead?" he continues.
"In this one, silly!" you chuckle too.
"What a beautiful world we live in" he jokes. "Princess, would you please go out with me?"
"I don't know, maybe Mike is abailable! you should check with him!" you tease him.
"Fair enough" he laughs.
"Yes, i will... you idiot" you walk closer to him with a grin.
"Thank God!" he grins too, wrapping his arms around your waist when you're close enough. "I picked out a few movies, Ferri Bueller's too! Maybe we can finally watch it together after all"
When you see that beautiful smile of his, so close to him as well, you just go for it, and finally kiss him.
You grab his face with your free hand, standing on your tippy toes and locking your lips with his plushy ones. He instantly wraps his arms tigher, bringing you even closer, smirking into the kiss.
"Maybe we won't pay much attention to the movie" you tease.
"It's alright, I already watched it" he says quickly before kissing you again.
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takes1 · 13 days ago
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i would literally sell my soul for more asahi smut(or literally anything tbh)
- (your stuff is actually so good bro. keep it up💯💯)
p.1 asahi getting rough with petite!reader
thank you!!! 😭❤️man, asahi is the most perfect character for some of my fav tropes ughh he's such a sweetie
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warnings. nsfw themes. recreational use of alcohol. minors DNI
details. nsfw / fem!reader / manager!reader / short!reader / rough play! fetish / mutual size kink / mutual crushing / playfighting / version of spin the bottle / suggestive wrestling / asahi is a gentleman / inappropriate hard-ons / sitting on asahi's shoulders / houseparty / tipsy!asahi / lightweight!suga / 2.4k words / two-parter, reply to be tagged for next nsfw part
links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part two here.
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"Aawww-!" Was a chorus of giggly groans throughout the little circle of Karasuno players. Your bottle landed on what was undeniably Asahi.
It filled Daichi's living room, which had been completely rearranged to make room for a friendly fight circle. As their more reserved manager, you decided that you shouldn't partake in a bottle-spinning, play-fighting, testosterone-pumping, sweaty activity at the start of the night.
"That's not a fair fight!"
After a few drinks and watching multiple rounds, you began to adopt an unfounded confidence that you'd be able to win one of these silly wrestling matches.
The name of the game was to keep a volleyball in your arms at the end of a three-minute timer. The trick, for most, was to take on their opponent, tire them out, and turtle over the ball in the last 10 seconds.
It seemed doable from your comfy spot on the couch, when you watched Tanaka prevail over Ennoshita, or the energetic match between Hinata and Nishinoya. When you volunteered to go, you were sure you could take anyone. But Asahi? He was arguably the most formidable opponent.
"Noo, let her fight Yamaguchi!" Suga was beet-red from his one drink, clinging to Daichi at the reveal that your match was against tonight's three-time Champ.
"Yamaguchiii!" He called, giggling, but you shook your head.
You didn't want to fight somebody that wasn't a challenge. If Asahi was #1, then Yamaguchi was #12. Bottom of the bracket.
Asahi glanced around the circle of guys telling him not to, already unsure if he should accept this turn, and to let you try fighting somebody your size, first.
"Hey, hey, now-!" Daichi tried to quiet the uproar and laughter, grinning, "Let her -hhaha- let her decide!"
Now that everyone had their own opinions, somewhat sharing the sentiment that if you fought, you'd suffer a terrible loss, your delusion grew a bit out of proportion.
You stood and passed your drink to Yachi. She gasped and grabbed your shirt as if you were a sacrifice. The room fell quieter, except for the failed, muffled laughter against elbows and hands.
"I'll take him!" You asserted, "And I'll win."
Cheers, applause, noise of all kinds preceded the start of some bets. Asahi grew warm at all the attention, and the pushing, and the teasing. If he lost, nobody would ever let him hear the end of it.
"You just gonna let her talk to you like that, bro?!" Nishinoya called.
He was snickering at his best friend's face, money already on you winning. All Asahi had to do was stand up for the guys to start 'Ooooh'ing, and for you to feel much, much smaller.
You were safe and across the circle, the game hadn't started yet, but as he pulled his hair up into a bun, you started sweating. He won his match with Kageyama by real wrestling, the one with Suga was more of just tiring his opponent out, and the one with Narita was won by brute-forcing the ball out of his grip.
Those weighty arms naturally flexed, moving to grab the elastic from between his teeth to tie it up. After enough jabs from Suga and Daichi, he realized he needed to verbally respond to your challenge.
Lightly buzzed, and not as shy about the reality of the fight, "I'm not goin' easy on you just 'cause you're tiny."
Now you had to beat him. You felt the fury of generations, notably Nishinoya, who was clambering over other guys to join your corner at the clear rage-bait.
"You better beat his ass for that!" He screamed over the delighted whoops and cheers.
Daichi resumed his ref-spot, ball in hand, as you both made it to the center of the circle.
You came up to his chest. He cocked his head down at you, a subtle endearment to his eyes, like he was admiring a small animal-- it was underestimation, an intimidation tactic for sure.
"Good," You muttered, a narrowed gaze at your opponent.
Daichi placed the ball on the floor between you and backed up before starting your time.
Asahi kicked it to the edge of the circle, disinterested in a game of keep-away. It wasn't advantageous to grab now, so you engaged him.
After watching enough of his matches, you knew he went low, first, so you stayed much, much lower.
It hardly served you. Any offensive move to take him just wasn't forceful enough, and you found yourself soon trapped once he got a hold of you.
And once he did, it felt like you would never be able to escape. The way he knew how to move you around was incredible- forget about his power, you couldn't even defend against his technique.
It also didn't take a lot of guessing to know what was compromising, and what wasn't- the team was vocal about what you needed to do, which prevailed mostly as different versions of 'Run away.'
40 seconds in, he readjusted his grip to something twisted, unnatural, and you were about three steps behind when he completed the move and pulled you up.
His arms were around your waist, your legs in the air, as he came up to a kneel.
"Ah!" You squealed, world turned upside-down.
You locked your legs around his shoulders, squeezing hard, but it didn't help you as he stood up onto his feet.
"Oh- shit-!!"
"Yoooo!"
"Asahi, take it easy!!"
Your fingertips couldn't make it to the floor- you weren't sure that you wouldn't hit your head, even if they did. His body was so hot against your back, his sheer strength such a shock, it stole your senses for a moment.
"Uh! Ref! Ref! That can't be legal!" Yachi pointed.
"Technically," Daichi took a moment to puff his collar with air, scanning the 'legality' of it, "Uh- it's... allowed."
You had never been so grateful to be wearing a bra. Your shirt didn't come all the way up, but you still took a second to tuck it before gripping your way to a curl-up.
At the top, you grabbed the back of his neck. It earned a strong grimace.
It served him right, since he was making a mockery out of you.
"Mmmh- sorry," Asahi spared you an apologetic look, even letting you finish tucking in your shirt before moving to a different position.
It was all in all, a lot of time, sitting up on his shoulders. It earned many, many whistles and half-vulgar expressions that Daichi had to quiet down.
"You good?" He cracked himself up a little with the question, unable to look anywhere but between your legs. You could feel his warm panting against you and tried not to think about it.
"Mhm."
It was curt, beyond embarrassment at this point. You wanted a fighting chance to touch the ball. If he kept you up here, you wouldn't be able to try.
If you had been one of the guys, he might've been a little less gentle letting you onto the floor. Still, he kept you down and wasted no time to pull himself free from your thighs, then pin you on your back.
He sat on your hips. It seemed so lame, and simple, but you couldn't lift yourself out from under him. You were getting weaker just by trying.
It was worse when he looked you in the eye, a little too sweet, as if he wasn't even thinking about the match.
The only thing that saved you was the time running out. You had just one minute left and still hadn't touched the ball.
"Asahi, get the damn ball!" Suga hollered, now on his second drink.
He sat back a little, glancing around for it- it was enough weight displacement to yank a leg out. He was still deciding between keeping you down and grabbing the ball. You were able to take advantage of the indecision and fly towards it, just before him.
And you were exhausted, hugging it close to your chest, huffing with a kind of tired you hadn't quite known before.
Spite was the only thing you ran on, at this point. Your muscles were screaming with fatigue, your breath shallow and rapid, making your forearms a little slick from condensation.
Eyes screwed shut, you couldn't help but squeak at the sound of him upon you- he was so scary, you finally understood how other teams could get intimidated by the way he played in matches.
"30 seconds!! (Y/n)!" Nishinoya bellowed, "Just 30 seconds!! Hold it!!"
His big fingers were digging, slowly but surely prying like steel under your arms. Every time he spared a moment to readjust, you squeezed harder and impeded his progress, so it forced a different approach.
A forearm barred against the front of your hips, stalling your breath for a moment- once he had a grip around you, he completed the hold and dropped his shoulder to the floor.
And in one, big groan against your ear, he curled, flipping you on top of him.
"Noooo-!!" Nishinoya and Yachi watched along in horror.
You braced, a simple cry all you could make, knowing that you were done for. You lay face up- your back against his chest, the only thing keeping the ball in your possession was a weak arm hold.
Asahi didn't instantly go for it, though.
He crunched his legs up in lock, prying yours down with shameful ease. It must've been some form of showmanship, to truly have you trapped.
The labored rise and fall of his chest moved your whole upper body, yet another enticing reminder that he eclipsed you in size. You could've sworn he was laughing.
Before he could take the thing out of your hands, you chucked it all the way across the circle.
"Oooooh!!"
"Ten seconds! Ten seconds!"
You both scrambled away from each other to grab the ball. For once, you had a head start and started pulling yourself towards it.
A grip on your ankle, just before you could close the distance, dragged you backwards in a comical slide.
"Aah-h-!!" You yelped again, all your progress lost, all your hope fading as he climbed over you.
But he couldn't quite reach the ball. He was weighing you down to keep you from moving.
Now faced with the reality you wouldn't win, you refocused all your effort on keeping him away. You quickly got into more of a sprawl to keep his hips further back while he was distracted, nails digging into his big, outstretched forearm with a strangled, but determined groan.
He quickly silenced you by bringing that arm back, crushing it underneath your combined bodies in an unintentional choke.
The fingers on his other hand were dancing against the ball. You were able to twist, just barely, to snake your hand to his bicep and force a subtle bend at the elbow.
"Time!"
It was such a cathartic experience. For about 3 seconds. As long as it took for you to both stop bracing.
After that, your heart was pounding for a very different purpose. Though you had been able to shove your dirty thoughts to the side in the name of sportsmanship, the position you finished in was pornographic and you quickly felt a throbbing between your thighs.
"Ahhh-- fuck-!" He groaned, heavy and burning hot against your neck, "You're- Mm, you were good."
You winced at the sensation and the tired, grumbly bass in his voice.
Your legs had the outside disadvantage, knees spread wide in another dismal effort to remain low. His hips were crammed against the back of yours, allowing you to feel the indisputable bulge pressed tight against your cunt.
What made it worse was that you couldn't move until he took his weight off, and he was so tired that it took him longer than you to catch his breath.
His forearm slid off of your neck and he finally muscled himself up. It left you a bit weak, wobbly, sort of needy for that weight on top of you again.
What may have felt like a few million years was, in reality, only a few more seconds. Nobody noticed, or they at least weren't pointing it out, in favor of teasing him for not finishing the match.
"A tie, dude?!"
"Rematch! Rematch!"
"I know you're not tired!"
Since you were the underdog, you were spared of such disparaging comments. You had, after all, gotten the closest to winning against him. A tie was satisfying in its own right.
"--if he wasn't so damn distracted-,"
Suga's disappointed mutter to Daichi caught your attention as you took your place back on the couch next to them. You leaned forward and stole his attention right away.
"Not that I wasn't rooting for you!" He clarified. "It's just that--,"
Daichi cleared his throat, very loudly, twice, with a wide stare towards his friend. That was not his secret to tell.
"Right... right."
There was no time, no room to ask another question, because Asahi carefully walked the perimeter of the circle to get to Daichi. He squatted in front of him. They began talking in covered whispers. They exchanged a few back-and-forth's.
It ended in Daichi dapping him up, a big grin on his face. He patted his back, hard but friendly, and made some room so he could exit the makeshift perimeter.
You figured that was the end of it, and started to collect yourself as he hopped over the back of the couch. Kageyama was taking on Tsukishima in a heated, technically complicated match. Now, you had some sympathy because you were still unable to shake the indescribable shock of getting pinned.
It felt eerily similar to the jolt you got from his big, warm hand back on your shoulder.
When you turned to look at him, he was a bit flushed. So modest, considering how rough he had just been with you.
"You wanna come help me with somethin'?"
"Sure!" You glanced around his kind, but gruff features and couldn't figure him out.
He let you use his shoulders to steady yourself as you also climbed over the back of the couch. It was sweet, and it would've been scarier without his help.
"What's up?" You spared a look back to Daichi and Suga, who were grabbing and shoving each other in excitement, and tried to lighten him up a little with a playful shove on the stairs, "You want a rematch?"
It didn't move him at all. Sharing a laugh, he joked, "Uhh, well- kind of."
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☆VIP☆
@integers @yuchacco
taglist:
none! reply to be tagged for part two!
my masterlist. more asahi
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dindjarindiaries · 4 months ago
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Stay
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character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)
prompts: “Why not tonight? I’m even wearing something pretty.” “Give me a little show.” & “Make me.” (18+)
main masterlist • prompt masterlist
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You were just finishing up in the refresher when you heard a gentle knocking on the door. You stopped smoothing out the wrinkles of your new outfit and glanced away from your reflection.
"Hey." Din's voice was muffled on the other side of the door. "I'm gonna head out."
Your heart sank as you turned towards the door. "Already?"
Din had told you that he was planning on leaving tonight to follow his next lead, but you had hoped he would change his mind. The outfit you had just changed into was supposed to convince him further.
"I'll be back in a few days." Din's voice was warm, clearly aiming to comfort you the best he could. "It won't be long."
You huffed loud enough for him to hear. "So, you're just gonna say goodbye through my refresher door?"
Din was amused. "I wasn't sure if I had permission to open it."
You straightened your shoulders and stepped forward, pressing the panel to let the door slide open. Din stepped back, as if he'd been leaning against the door, and you rested your shoulder against the frame. You spoke in a voice that was both soft and demanding. "Stay."
Din's visor gave you a once-over obvious enough to make the tips of your ears burn. His gloved hands tightened into fists at his sides as he took a deep breath. "I can't." He turned around and began to walk out of your bedroom. "I've already overstayed my welcome."
You exhaled sharply through your nose and pursued him. "No you haven't. There's no such thing as overstaying your welcome here."
Din hummed, though he didn't stop his stride as he reached the open area of your flat. "That's very kind of you, but I meant that I've delayed too long." He shook his helmet as he grabbed his travel pack from the table. "I can't lose this lead."
You wrapped your arms around yourself and desperately sought out another excuse. "But it's already dark outside. You might as well stay."
Din paused and turned his helmet over his shoulder, allowing you to see only half of his visor. He didn't speak, which gave you the freedom to continue.
"Why not tonight?" You unraveled your arms and let your hands run over your sides. "I'm even wearing something pretty." You batted your lashes to further sell your performance. "Just for you."
Din slowly turned around to face you. He rested his weight on one hip as his visor took its time observing you again. You embraced your shyness and channeled it as confidence, lifting your chin and the corners of your mouth.
When Din spoke again, his voice was low. "Tempting." He tilted his helmet. "But I can't stay."
You deflated, your brow furrowing as you let out a heavy sigh. "Fine." You tightened your lips. "What do I need to do to convince you?"
Din mused upon your words for a long moment, his visor busying himself with the sight of you again as he did so. He then sat down in a nearby chair and leaned back, making himself comfortable as he dropped the travel pack by his boots.
You shifted your weight as his helmet nodded in your direction. "Give me a little show." His voice was even lower than before.
Your eyes widened, and you blinked a few times before scoffing. "That's ridiculous.” You crossed your arms. “I'm not doing that."
Din leaned forward, resting his elbows on his spread knees without ever once looking away from you. "Then I guess you don't want me as badly as you think, do you?"
You circled your jaw, narrowing your eyes at him as you noted the challenge in his words. "What are you trying to say, Din?"
Din sat up enough to brace his gloved hands upon his armored thighs. "If you want me to stay..." he paused and leaned back again, "then make me."
You lifted your brow. "Make you?"
Din nodded before he tilted his helmet. "Make me."
You inhaled a soft breath before walking towards him, closing the tense gap between you more and more with each step. Your knees were nearly knocking against his when you stopped. You propped your hands up on the arms of the chair to lean over him. "How much permission do I have to make that possible?"
Din's voice was so airy that it crackled through his modulator. "All of it."
You tilted your head at him and set your knee between his thighs. "Anything?"
Din shifted. "Anything."
Your lips curled up in a sly, satisfied grin as you pushed yourself up to sit on his lap. Your hands found the sides of his helmet as you started to lift it, still giving him a chance to stop you despite his reassurances. When your gaze caught his, you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him, with the flames that burned deep within you finding their match in the golden flecks of his hungry gaze.
You took his helmet and set it aside. "You won't be needing this."
Din's hands clutched your skin. "No, I won't." He pulled your chest against his. "I just need you."
You hummed in delight as you traced his untrimmed jaw with your lips. "It was that easy, huh?"
Din held your jaw with one hand to lift your gaze back up to his. This time, you saw his once-over without his visor concealing it, the warmth of it practically burning your skin. The corner of his mouth rose as he spoke. "You had me the second that door opened."
You laughed as you pulled his face towards yours. "I knew it."
Din wasted no time devouring you, his parted lips an intoxicating match to your own—but just when his tongue began to tease you, he pulled away to add more. "I just wanted to see how badly you wanted it." He chuckled as he kissed your upper lip. "That's all."
You huffed. "Then shut up so I can show you."
Whatever amused sound Din made in response was drowned out by you as you continued where you both had left off, and you didn't stop until you were sure that you had made Din's decision to stay count.
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artjiayi · 1 year ago
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Happy (very) belated birthday to my favorite twins 💜
Omg I'm finally done with this piece. Took me a while but I made some breaks in between as it's a bigger illustration to draw.
I know their birthday was 2 months ago but I was pretty busy the last months and I had to deal with personal stuff as well. It was kinda rough but things are slowly getting back together.
Anyway, I thought it’d be fun to do a Disney-verse and make the twins meet Flotsam and Jetsam for real. I’m pretty sure this would 99.99% happen if they met...
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Of course Jade would get along with Jetsam. They’d be plotting all the time and fufu about it. Mischievous eels and that damn smile again.
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Poor Flotsam getting squeezed by Floyd… there’s no way we can stop this. Who would interfer with Floyd anyway ?! and besides the only person he would listen to is his current mood so… Good luck Flotsam, you seem to amuse him at least…fufu.
Those evil fishes…but that’s why I love them.
Btw, this year I’m confident enough to go to conventions as an artist for the first time and I’m so excited about it. I'll give you more details once it's officially confirmed. This also means I will be selling prints of my illustrations in the near future so stay tuned for more infos soon.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year ago
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Hello!
I wanted to order something from Wonka (2023) because I fell in love with it after watching the movie! So if possible, I would like something fluff in which Reader and Wonka are mutually in love but neither has enough confidence to declare themselves and Noodle helps them both to tell each other their feelings. (sorry if I didn't understand, the english isn't my first language)
A little push [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 4.5k
note: first of all, I want to tell you not to worry because English is not my first language either (i'm Mexican, where are u from?) and second, I loved writing this, I had fun and I think I got a little excited with the words count, haha. I hope you enjoy!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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“Everything is amazing!” Noodle squealed, as he walked down the stone hallway and looked around with absolute fascination: from the chocolate river to the glass ceiling through which you could look at the blue sky.
After you had gotten rid of the Chocolate Cartel and the rest of the group had returned to their normal lives, Willy had finally started his dream of building a chocolate factory. Now that it was finally finished, you and Noodle had been the first in the world to have the privilege of seeing it. You had stayed in touch, of course, although it was almost always when he went to town in search of some materials for his creations, to sell chocolates on the streets or to work on rebuilding the store at the Galeries Gourmet.
"So you think?" he asked, smiling. He loved the girl as if she were his little sister and you imagined that her approval would prove to be quite important.
“Of course, it's magnificent,” she assured him. You looked out at the grass and waved at the little orange man (who you now knew was called Lofty) who was drinking from a small cup “Is the river real chocolate?”
“Of course it's real chocolate, who do you think you're talking to?” he murmured, almost offended “Go explore and eat whatever you want. I accept suggestions for improvements” Willy indicated to your friend, who smiled at you apologetically and bolted towards the glass bridge section.
“I think we'll finish the merchandise before the opening,” you joked and then Willy seemed to remember your presence.
His smile was extremely sweet when he turned to you to offer you to take his arm, like a gentleman, and so you began walking, a little slower and a shorter distance.
“It would be impossible, I assure you.”
“How have sales been?” you questioned and then he began to give you a summary of everything.
Abacus was still his trusted accountant so this whole matter was well monitored, which allowed him to make all the movements, purchases, and remodeling. While Noodle (whose name you knew wasn't hers, but you kept calling her that out of habit) was lost in the recesses of the enchanted castle you seemed to be in.
"A flower?" he offered you suddenly, leaning down to pull one of the ones growing on the floor.
"It is eatable?"
“Everything here is edible,” he said cheerfully. “Except me, I guess.”
“Maybe you are, although I think you'd taste quite peculiar,” you said in a soft, teasing voice, hoping he'd catch at least a little of your flirtation.
After everything you had been through at the launderette, as well as the time you had lived together after that, you had become good friends, but little by little you had begun to feel something else blossoming inside you. The boy was handsome, you had realized this from the first moment you saw him, but the more you lived with him you began to realize the great qualities he had. It was much worse when you added to all this the sweetness with which he always treated you and how attentive he was towards everything you wanted.
That's why you threw in some flirtatious comments from time to time, to test the waters, observe his reactions, and thus build an image in your mind to know if you had at least a chance.
“Let's find out,” he said, and your breathing hitched for a moment, but it came out as a chuckle when you saw him lick the back of his hand “Not that unpleasant, though a little salty, I’d say.”
You had to admit that you would have liked to see how your friend tasted differently, but for now you would just let it go. Maybe he was very innocent or maybe he didn't like you. 
“What are you working on now? Something new?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your flower. It was delicious.
"Yeah! Actually yes. Now I'm thinking about creating a chocolate whose flavor contains the three meals of the day, so people who don't have much money could buy it and have the pleasure of the three foods. Oh, and I want to expand the sweets to sell in the store, not only chocolates, but also gum, candies, gummies... What do you think about that?
“Sounds like an excellent idea, Willy” you smiled. He separated from you when you reached the edge of the river falling from the waterfall, where he theatrically removed his hat to pull out a cup that he filled with liquid chocolate and then held out in your direction.
"Do you want?”
“I can drink a little,” you replied, while you took the porcelain container with your fingers and took a sip of the contents. There was something special about his chocolates that you still didn't understand, but he made them a thousand times more enjoyable. “Hhm-mmm.”
“All the chocolate is in constant motion, which makes it beat better and taste smoother,” he explained to you, as he got completely excited when it came to talking about the chemistry behind his creations. You noticed that he was looking at your lips and you were about to say something when he spoke: “You have a little… over there.”
"Here?" you asked, stretching your tongue in the direction where he had pointed, but Willy continued to look at you with some amusement.
“No, in… right there, uh… wait” he murmured and seeing your failed attempts to get rid of the stain he took a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket “Let me help you.”
Willy took a step towards you and you gasped when one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, as if he didn't want you to move your face. The other, with the help of the handkerchief, gently passed the corner of your lips.
You took the opportunity to look at him carefully, trying to record as many details as possible: some freckles that he had on the bridge of his nose, a trace of facial hair that he probably shaved in the morning, his bushy eyebrows above his beautiful eyes framed by long eyelashes and finally her pink lips that were pressed in on themselves as a sign of concentration. He was so handsome and so close to you that you were getting nervous.
He, unbeknownst to you, had his own swirl of emotions. The skin of your face that he was holding was soft and in that position it would have been enough to lean in a little to capture your lips with traces of chocolate, without you even noticing it and, probably, without you being able to deny it for a moment. But he didn't want to do that to you, he knew it wasn't correct and after all he didn't know if you felt the same way.
He hummed a word to let you know he was done and suddenly the two of you found yourself looking straight into each other's eyes, lost in each other's gaze. Just two fools in love who didn't realize it.
"What are you doing?"
You separated abruptly when you heard the voice of the girl, who had apparently been watching you for a few seconds, and looked at her accompanied by Lofty. Both of them were smirking.
“Huh, she… had some chocolate on her face and I…”
“Willy helped me remove it” you completed. You didn't even understand why you guys were nervous, it wasn't like you guys were doing anything guilty.
“Do you guys want to go see my lab?” Wonka murmured, trying to divert attention from whatever had happened just a moment ago. “You're going to love it. “I’ll even let you make a chocolate if you want, Noodle.”
“Okay,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders, but giving you a look that clearly meant: we'll talk about this later. 
When they began to walk, Willy turned for a second to look at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher and then he returned his gaze to the front, just so that you wouldn't see the blush that had painted his cheeks.
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“Are we going to talk about it?”
"Talk about what?" you asked absentmindedly, punching your pillow to soften it.
You and Noodle shared a room because you still couldn't find a place to settle and, furthermore, you had been hired at the library so there was no problem for Dorothy with you staying with them.
“Talk about how you and Willy almost kissed.”
“We weren't going to kiss!” you screeched immediately, turning violently to look at the girl.
“Well, that's what it seemed like. He had his hand on your face and you were so close.”
“He was just helping me remove a stain,” you defended yourself, although it was obvious that you had gotten nervous.
What if he had tried to kiss you? you suddenly asked yourself. No, it was impossible. 
“But you like him.”
“Noodle,” you squeaked under your breath, “What kind of questions are those?”
“Oh, you like him!” she concluded. For the girl, the fact that you were evading an answer was an answer in itself. “I knew it.”
“You can't tell him,” you said, resigned that the girl wouldn't let the matter go so easily. “You have to promise.”
"Why not? Maybe he likes you too”
“Well, I prefer not to know that,” you lied. It was obvious that you wanted to know, but you were too worried about ruining your friendship with him to do any real research.
"What is it that you like the most about him?"
"Stop"
“I won't tell him!” the little girl said, raising her hands in surrender. “I swear. I just want to know how it feels, I have never fallen in love with anyone."
The excitement in the girl's eyes ended up convincing you to talk to her about your feelings for your mutual friend and after letting out a deep sigh you sat down on the mattress, patting the spot next to your side as an invitation for her to sit too.
“You must swear to me that you will not tell him. Please,” you warned her and she nodded frantically. “I like his eyes.”
“I knew it,” she said again, victorious. “What else do you like about him?”
You thought the real question was: was there anything you didn't like about him?
“I really like that he is so kind to everyone. And I like that he is a dreamer, I like his curly hair and his strange clothes. I like when he’s cordial with me and I also like that he talks so… I don't know, so softly, you know what I mean?” you asked and she nodded excitedly.
Talking about it with someone was, in a way, very liberating and once you started you couldn't stop. You spent a long time talking about him, gossiping about the little moments that you thought meant some sign and listing your fantasies, while your friend listened attentively.
As the words left your mouth, you convinced yourself more that it wasn't just a crush, but that you were actually in love with that boy. And it scared you, to be honest.
“Will you ever tell him? “You would make a nice couple.”
"That's what you think?” you asked amused. You had already attacked a stock of chocolates that Willy had given you when he left the factory. “Well, I don't know, Noodle. If one day the conditions are right and he gives me some sign, I guess so."
The girl laughed to herself and registered her information in her mind, certain that very soon you would receive that signal and she would personally take care of it.
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“Willy!” The man listened and when he turned in the direction of the voice, he found the unruly hair of his little friend.
“Darling, hello,” he greeted cordially, while he bent down a little to give her a hug “What brings you here?”
“I had a break at the library and I wanted to come see if you were here,” she smiled. The store was packed with people, as always, but they were in a quiet enough section “And I also wanted to ask for your help.”
“Sure, whatever you want”
“It's about Y/N,” Noodle said. Noticing that the man's posture straightened a little, she smiled victoriously, because the mere mention of your name had already captured his attention “But you must promise not to say anything to her.”
“My lips will be sealed”
“Well, it's about a boy”
There was silence, where Wonka frowned perceptibly. Noodle couldn't be happier.
"A boy?"
“Yes, I think he likes her. He goes to the library every day just to see her and he talks to her for hours and even helps her organize some of her books. You should see them, they are so cute together. And I want to organize a date for them”
“A date?” he screeched. He felt betrayed by the girl, although she clearly couldn't read her mind and therefore she didn't know about her feelings for you.
"Yeah! I want your help because I want you to make some delicious chocolates that will make them fall in love or something like that”
“My chocolates can't make someone fall in love with someone else,” he said immediately, although that wasn't entirely true. “And why do you want her to go on a date with that guy? Does he even treat her well? What does he look like?”
It was evident that he was, to say the least, affected by the information she was giving him. She could almost say there was some anger in his voice. Or maybe it was just jealousy.
“Wow, wow, calm down Willy. I thought this would excite you.”
“Why should I get excited?” he asked, honestly confused. Noodle had the boy right where she wanted him and he wasn't realizing anything. It was perfect.
“Because she's your friend and I thought maybe you'd like to help me get her a boyfriend. I don't know, for her to be happy and all that”
Willy Wonka remained silent. He seemed to be holding something in his chest that he didn't want to let out and judging by the look on his face she believed that even he might cry. Suddenly the girl felt the man's hand take her arm to take her to an even more secluded place, far from all the curious ears.
"She likes him? You know that?"
“I don't know, she hasn't told me anything.”
Lies, pure lies. She clearly knew that you were madly in love with the boy in front of her.
“I can't do you that favor you want,” he ruled. “But could you do one for me?”
"What do you want?" she asked, pretending to be confused. He took a moment before daring to speak.
“Please distract that boy. Don't let him get close to her."
"And why?"
“Because I like her,” he finally breathed out.
Bingo, she had gotten just what she wanted.
"No way! Are you talking seriously?"
“Yes, but you can't tell anyone, do you understand?”
“Well, it wouldn't be any use for me to tell someone if she is in love with that boy.”
“Don't you dare think about it,” her friend whimpered. There was no such thing as a suitor of yours and she felt like laughing, but she stopped herself. “She seems very interested?”
“Well, not that much, but he will be soon if he keeps acting like that with her.” Noodle snorted and then he pursed his lips and cursed under his breath, “Unless…”
"That?"
“No, it's nonsense”
“Tell me,” he asked, obviously distressed. He really liked you and he didn't want there to be a chance of someone else winning your heart.
“Well, I think she might lose interest in him if you tell her what you feel, don't you think?” she argued.
“What if she doesn't like me?”
“You won't know if you don't tell her!” She mumbled, feeling the same frustration she felt when she had that conversation with you. “Listen, you remember the flamingos at the zoo, right?”
"Aha"
“And do you remember that they didn't fly until they knew they could escape? If they hadn't flown, they would still be there. They had to do it to discover that there was a world out there, you know what I mean?”
“I don't think so,” he replied, concerned, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“What I'm trying to say is that you should tell her if you want to know if she feels the same way. And who knows, maybe so” she murmured. If you knew what she was doing you'd probably be strangling her, but she just hoped everything turned out okay.
The man thought seriously for a moment, with his gaze lost as if he were immersed in his own world, and then he looked at the youngest.
“Well, how do I do that?”
Noodle jumped a little with excitement and pulled her friend to her until they reached a place to sit, prepared to talk to him as much as necessary for him to confess his feelings for you. Willy listened very carefully and by the end of the afternoon they already had a small plan drawn up, that with some luck she would be able to unite her two best friends into a perfect couple.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Willy felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest when he started to look for you in the library, after more than a week of his conversation with Noodle, ready to confess what he felt to you that same afternoon or die trying.
He found you in the history section, carrying a stack of books and looking for the right place to put them. Even without trying you looked very pretty and a sigh escaped him at that, while he thought why it had taken him so long to consider telling you how much he felt for you.
“Huh, hello.”
"Hello, how can I help y…? Willy?” 
“That's me,” he said timidly. 
“How are you?”
“Well, everything is very good” as you left the books on a shelf and approached him you noticed that he was holding a solitary flower in his hand and you asked with your eyes the reason for it “Oh, this one is for you. It's not chocolate, it's just that I saw it on the way and it reminded me of you, because I know that's your favorite color and because... well, because it's pretty."
“Ow, thank you,” you said tenderly, reaching out to take the present and becoming a little embarrassed. “Were you looking for Noodle?”
“No, I wanted to ask you if once you finish you would like to go for a walk to hang out and… chat. The weather is warmer than ever and spring has beautiful sunsets,” he noted. You didn't understand why he seemed so nervous, nor did you know if you were misunderstanding the situation, but you felt your face turn a barely perceptible shade of red.
“I would love to, actually. But I have to cover a shift and…”
“I'll cover it for you,” someone next to you said quickly. It was Noodle, who had seemingly arrived out of nowhere. “You guys go have fun.”
“But your mom…”
“My mom won't say anything. Come on, go” she insisted, pushing you in the direction of the exit. You didn't know what that girl was up to, but you suspected she was up to no good and gave her a warning look.
“Huh, in that case I guess there is no problem anymore. Just let me go to my room to put on some other clothes and I’ll be back, okay?” you said with a smile. You looked at the girl again, as if searching for an answer, but this time she didn't even notice your look, so you went straight to what you needed.
Once there you took the opportunity to comb your hair, put on some cologne, brush your teeth, put on a pretty necklace, and things like that, hoping to look a little prettier for him.
You placed the flower on your shelf with special care and smiled at the boy's kind gesture towards you. When he said that it reminded him of you because it was pretty, was he calling you pretty? God, you hoped so.
Once you returned to where you had left him you noticed that he was waiting patiently in a chair and Noodle was nowhere to be seen, so you announced your arrival and both of you were ready to leave.
“I'm sorry I arrived unexpectedly” was the first thing he said, once you were outside. He wasn't lying, the atmosphere had started to get warmer.
“It's okay, you don't have to worry. I like surprises”
“I hope so,” he said, more to himself than to you.
You walked in silence through some houses and you took the opportunity to admire the landscape, without really knowing where you were going, but with some curiosity.
“Do you want to go to the pier?” he spoke again, because that was one of the destinations you could reach with the route you had taken “The sunset can be seen from there.”
True, he wanted to show you one of those spring sunsets.
"It's a good idea"
“Okay”
Then the man began to talk about something else, to distract his mind and to distract you, and that talk filled the silence of the entire road. When the sea was in front of you, you leaned against a white wooden railing with the sticky salt-smelling air hitting your face. You noticed that the sun had already started to set.
“The sea is huge,” you said suddenly. He leaned next to you, quite close, and this time he looked a little more confident. “Especially when the tide comes in, at this time.”
“Have you ever traveled by ship?”
“No, no,” you responded quickly. “It would be a disaster if I did that. I get dizzy easily and I would be afraid of drowning.”
“You get dizzy at first, but as time goes by you get used to it,” he assured, sounding amused at your response. “It's a good experience.”
“Did you see a lot of sunsets when you were at sea?” you asked, turning to look at him for a second and then returning your gaze to the natural spectacle.
“And sunrises too. The worst were the storms, you would imagine. But in general, there were very beautiful landscapes”
“I bet so,” you smiled. Your hair was blowing in the wind and Willy could only stare at you.
“Although I don't think any of them were as beautiful as you,” he murmured, in a tone so low that you thought you had imagined it.
You were silent for a second, watching the waves crash against the rocks, and then you were able to speak.
“You called me pretty twice today, did you even eat one of those wine-infused chocolates?” you tried to joke, to mask the fact that you were surprised and nervous in equal parts.
“No, it's not that,” he said, with a seriousness that worried you, as you were hoping he would divert the topic. “I really think you're pretty, very pretty actually. But… I mean, that's not the most important thing about you, I don't want you to think that. You were beautiful inside and out, like… your personality. It's brilliant"
“Oh, nonsense.”
“No, I'm serious.”
You could feel the few rays of sunlight that remained, in the distance, hitting your face, and when you looked at him you realized that it reflected a certain golden glow in his eyes. He was precious.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Everything around you took a backseat to the possibility that those compliments weren't just that, but something more, and then he took a deep breath before answering you.
“It wasn't a lie when I said I wanted to talk to you. It's something important to me and... well, I hope you're okay with this, because I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way."
"With what?" you insisted. A part of you told you that you were just misunderstanding everything, that he couldn't be referring to what you believed.
“Well, with the fact that I think you are a great person, that you are charismatic and kind and beautiful and that I like all of that a lot. I like you a lot"
The world stopped for a second and so did your heart. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn't a dream, but it wasn't necessary because you knew that the breeze, the sun, and the sound of the waves couldn't be the work of a dream, just as the boy in front of you who was waiting for an answer couldn't be one either.
"Really?”
“Sure, why would I lie to you?” he expressed, sincerely bewildered. An involuntary smile lit up his face and then your hand went to hold his. It was big compared to yours, and it was warm.
“I don't know where all that came from, but I'm glad you said it. Because I like you too. Like, really a lot” you said shakily, and then he could breathe again.
“You don't know how happy it makes me to know that,” he smiled, while he brought your hand to his lips and gave you a sound kiss. Suddenly his hands went to your waist and he gently lifted you off the floor, giving you a spin in the air that made you laugh. “You like me too.”
“That's right,” you said, overjoyed to know that you were reciprocated. Had Noodle had anything to do with this confession? You knew it most likely was, but you would make sure to question her later.
“I was so nervous that you wouldn't like me.”
“How could I not like you, huh?” You exclaimed, raising your hands to his cheeks to force him to look at you. “You are perfect and even sweeter than your chocolates. Of course I was going to like you."
Willy blushed at the compliment and suddenly leaned in to hug you, hiding from your gaze captivated by him as he felt unworthy of it. You smiled widely while you stood on your tiptoes and let yourself be held tightly, while you saw the sunset in the distance and you left a soft kiss on his cheek, whispering a soft Love ya in his ear, hoping that that moment would remain engraved in your memory and that it was only the beginning of many more.
Noodle, from home, was smiling just imagining what you two would be doing and, in her mind, by this point you might have even kissed.
And while it wasn't like that, either way, watching the sunset in each other's arms was much more romantic and memorable for both of you.
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 9 months ago
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lowkey I kinda wanna top gaz or ghost out of curiosity on how they would react 🤔
gaz or ghost? gaz AND ghost. ranked competitive sex. the ol' good cock/bad cock.
they're both confident almost cocky but they show it very differently.
you tell gaz you wanna be on top this time.
"i'm fine with that," he says.
cool cool cool. easy. too easy, in fact.
he's smiling at you. "you want to be on top, you're on top." he says. "easy as."
so... you get to be the dominant one this time. he knows that's what you mean. right?
mm, harder sell. you wanna do his job? you're gonna need to prove you have what it takes. you're gonna have to work for it. talk like you mean it. don't whine, don't ask, don't just tell him what to do. command him. 
and don't mess up.
nsfw ⬇
order him to take his clothes off. top him like you mean it--bounce on him like you don't need any help, because he's not helping you. and control yourself. edge him. don't show weakness. make him keep his eyes on you. keep his interest with your body, your voice, your tone.
(it's tough for him, feigning such precarious half-interest. pretending like you don't have a visegrip on his every atom. pretending like he's not suddenly understanding how it might feel to be possessed by a succubus. it's tough, but he's soldiering through because he's a great fucking teacher. this is good for you, you just don't know it yet.)
he's teaching you to use your whole body to tell him you're in charge. you need to make the rules.
if you don't--if you slip up--he'll make you sorry. he'll give you a crash course in how a mean dom operates.
(you might be able to collar him, but god help you if you fumble. the second you do, that o-ring choker is going on your neck, and his thumb is already hooked in.)
ghost--
ghost is a little easier to entice. he's a visual guy. he's a little smitten with anyone who approaches him first. you're offering to top him? to put your whole damn body on display? that's an act of service, baby.
even if you're doing it because you want to control the pace and the position, even if you want to take your own pleasure and act like you don't give a damn about his... you're still giving him exactly what he wants. if all he needs to do is lay back and shut up, he'll play your game.
not a tough job, either. not half bad. he could get used to this. nope, he's already used to it. he's thinking ahead--wondering what other dirty fantasies in that pretty head he could help fulfill.
then he shifts his hips down an inch to hit your sweet spot. you snap at him not to move. 
his eyes flick up--from your hole squeezing his cock--to your face. strange sense of whiplash you're giving him--the instant flip from almost ignoring him to focusing squarely on him. negative attention or not, it's arousing. you shouldn't have done that.
"yeah?" he replies, voice low and rough. "you gonna make me?"
you don't have time to reply before he's shoving his hips up into you hard. one stroke, then two, then more, so slow and hard and deep your vision threatens to go white. 
he's challenging you to keep ignoring him now. 
"say it again," he growls. "tell me what to do one more time."
he reaches for your clit, and you fight him, grabbing his wrist, using it as leverage to sink down on him again, redoubling your pace. 
you're both fighting to stay in control. ghost could overpower you easily but he's having fun. and you're putting on a hell of a show for him.
he'll contend with your attitude later. for now he just wants to keep you pissed off and horny enough to keep riding him like you've got something to prove.
riding ghost and gaz together...
you just know they're both talking at you, trying to get your attention as you fight like hell not to fall apart.
gaz is instructing you to sit up straighter, to clench your thighs so they don't shake, to control your voice--or keep it up, sweetheart. keep moaning like a slut if you want to be treated like one. 
ghost is egging you on, enjoying how furious you're getting, how it makes you clench up and stutter when gaz says something that really gets to you. he tosses in his lot every so often to keep things going. like throwing a lit match into a pit of black powder and lead azide.
you're doomed. until.
you tell ghost to move his hands already so gaz can maneuver you by the hips instead. 
that turns them against one another in negative two seconds.
suddenly they're critiquing each other. gaz smugly insinuates you're enjoying his technique more. ghost replies smoothly that it hardly matters to him; it's his attention you're after.
their back-and-forth gives you the precious time you need to clear your head. once you can finally fucking concentrate, you can push past all this edging you've been put through by stupid competition they've been having on you.
they keep one-upping each other and only half-notice what you're up to--until you throw your head back and make a sound of pure rapture, riding them both to completion. you throw yourself into the best orgasm of your recent life.
they're dead silent as you come down, grinding your hips in bliss as the final sparks of pleasure fizzle under your skin.
it sort of humbles them. but then again, it also inflates both their egos just enough to keep them from learning their goddamn lesson.
...
more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag
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cyberl6ve · 6 months ago
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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑! 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 ─ 𝐅 𝐄 ! 𝐍
CHECK 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 FOR MORE!! (NSFW!!)
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𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
── .✦ : Y/N, in need of more weed, recalls her best friend Matt Sturniolo once mentioning that his brother, Chris, could help her restock. With Chris's number saved in her phone but never having met him, Y/N decides to reach out, stepping into an unexpected world linked to her friend’s mysterious brother.
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 !! · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
⋆˙⟡ STORY CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT !! ⋆˙⟡
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ : 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐈’𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, but I need more weed. I take out my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find the number for Chris Sturniolo, my best friend Matt's brother. I've never met Chris in person before, but I've heard enough stories from Matt to know he's trouble. Despite this, I send him a text message asking if he could sell me some weed.
“Hey, is this Chris?”
A few minutes later, I get a reply from him.
“Depends. Who's asking?”
I roll my eyes at his response, but I type back anyway.
“I’m one of Matt's friend. Y/N. I need to restock my supply, and I heard you could help me out.”
There’s a bit of a pause before he replies.
“Ah, Matt’s girl. Yeah, I can hook you up. Come by my place in an hour.”
An hour later, I find myself standing outside of Chris’s house, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. I take a deep breath and ring the doorbell. A few moments later, the door swings open and I find myself face-to-face with Chris.
“Hey there,” he says, leaning against the doorway. “You must be Y/N.”
I nod, eyeing him up and down. He's wearing a plain black hoodie and a pair of jeans, his hair tousled in that carefree way that makes girls swoon. But I'm not about to let him see that I find him attractive.
As I look at him, it's impossible to ignore the similarities between him and Matt. They share the same colored hair, the same sharp features, the same easy smile. Matt had told me once that he was an identical triplet, and seeing Chris for the first time, I could believe it.
But the differences between them are obvious too. While Matt was always friendly and approachable, Chris exudes a confident charisma that's hard to ignore. It's like he knows he can get anything he wants, and he's not afraid to use it to his advantage.
He steps aside to let me in, and I walk past him into the house. “Make yourself at home,” he says, shutting the door behind us. “Can I get you anything to drink?” I shake my head, still trying to play it cool. “I'm good,” I say.
He looks at me for a moment, his eyes roaming over my body in a way that makes me feel both self-conscious and flattered at the same time.
“So, how much do you need?” he asks. “An eighth, a quarter, a whole ounce?” I shrug, trying to act like I don't care. “Whatever you've got,” I say.
He seems amused by my nonchalance. “You don't mess around, do you? I like that.” He grins and moves closer to me, leaning against the wall.
“How about an ounce? Does that sound alright?” he asks, his voice low and silky. Despite myself, I feel a flutter in my stomach at his proximity. “Yeah, an ounce is great,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “How much will that cost me?”
He smirks and crosses his arms across his chest. “Normally it would cost you $50, but since you're a first-time buyer it's on the house.”
I shake my head, trying to keep up the nonchalant act. “No, no, I can't let you give me a free ounce,” I say. “Let me pay you something at least.”
He grins and hands me the ounce, his fingers brushing against mine as he does. “Well, you can pay me in another way, if you're willing,” he says, his voice low and sultry.
I raise an eyebrow at his words, trying not to show how much they're affecting me. “And what way would that be?” I ask, playing along.
Without warning, he takes a step forward, closing the distance between us. His gaze locks with mine as he leans in, his lips hovering just inches from my own. “Maybe I can show you,” he says, his voice a low murmur.
He closes the gap between us, his lips meeting mine in a soft, but firm kiss. I find myself melting into him, my hands moving up to wrap around his neck as we kiss. He pulls me closer to him, his arms wrapping around my waist tightly.
He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I moan softly, pressing myself against him, feeling the heat of his body against mine. For a moment, all thoughts of being nonchalant fly out of my head as I lose myself in his embrace.
As the kiss deepens, I can't help but notice how different it is from any other kiss I've had before. His lips are firm and confident, yet tinged with a hint of gentleness that I can't quite place. It's like he knows exactly what he's doing, and he's using it to his advantage. He's a far better kisser than any of the guys I've dated in the past, and I find myself getting lost in the sensation of his mouth on mine.
He breaks the kiss, but only to move his attention to my neck. His lips trail down my jawline, his teeth nipping at my skin as he sucks lightly at my pulse point. I tilt my head back, exposing more of my neck to him, unable to stop myself from letting out a soft moan.
He grins against my skin, his hands moving to my hips as he continues his assault on my neck. He kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin, his tongue darting out every now and then to tease me. His fingers dig into my hips, pressing me against him tightly, and I can feel the heat of his body through our clothes.
He pulls back from my neck for a moment, looking up at me with a sly smile. “Jump,” he says, his voice a low command. Before I can protest, he taps my thighs, signaling me to jump.
Without thinking, I obey, jumping up and wrapping my legs around his waist. He catches me easily, his hands moving to support me under my thighs, holding me tightly against him.
He moves quickly toward the stairs, carrying me with ease. His hands grip my thighs tightly as he ascends the stairs, his strides purposeful and assured. I wrap my arms around his neck, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves.
We reach the top of the stairs and he turns down the hallway, stopping in front of a door at the end. Without breaking stride, he pushes the door open and carries me inside, kicking it shut behind us.
The room is dimly lit, with a king-size bed in the center. He walks over to it, still holding me in his arms, and lowers me down onto the bed. I sink into the soft comforter, my heart racing as he hovers over me, his eyes roaming over my body.
He leans down, his body pressing against mine, his weight pinning me to the bed. He kisses me hungrily, his hands roaming over my body, tracing the curves of my hips and sides. I kiss him back just as eagerly, my fingers tangling in his hair as I arch up against him.
He breaks the kiss, his lips moving down to my neck again. His hands reach up to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head, exposing my bare skin to him. I shiver as his fingers trace patterns on my stomach, his touch sending jolts of electricity racing through me.
He moves down, kissing and nipping at my collarbone, his hands moving to unclasp my bra. I arch into his touch, my breath coming in short gasps as he worships my body with his mouth. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine as he pulls the bra off and throws it aside.
His gaze wanders down, taking in the sight of my bare chest, his pupils dilating as he takes in the sight of me. He licks his lips, his hands roaming over me once again. He touches me like he owns me, like he has the right to, and I find myself craving more of his touch.
He kisses his way down my body, his lips moving over my breasts, his tongue swirling over my nipples, making me gasp and arch up against him.
Chris's lips continue to trail downwards, his hands moving to my waistband. With a gentle tug, he slowly pulls my pants down, revealing my underwear. His breath hitches as he takes in the sight, his desire growing stronger.
With my fingers grazing the hem of his black hoodie, I slowly help him take it off, revealing his toned chest beneath. I can't help but run my hands over his bare skin, my touch sending sparks through his body.
As the hoodie comes off, I take a moment to appreciate the sight before me. His muscles tense under my touch, and I can feel his breath hitch as I trace my fingers over his chest.
I get up from the bed, my eyes locked on his. Using all my strength, I pull him up, and we stand there for a moment before I reach for his pants. Slowly, I begin to undo them, the sound of the zipper filling the room.
His pants fall to the floor, leaving him in just his boxers. I push him gently onto the bed, making sure he lands with a soft thud. As he lies there, I kneel in front of him, my hands moving to the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers.
With a gentle tug, I pull down his boxers, revealing his erection. My eyes widen at the sight, and I can't help but let out a soft moan. His cock is hard and pulsing, begging for attention.
“Mmm, look at you,” I whisper, my hot breath caressing his sensitive skin. “So hard and ready for me. Do you want my mouth on you, baby? Do you need me to suck that big, thick cock?”
“Fuck, yes,” he groans, his hips bucking up towards me involuntarily. “I need your mouth, baby. Suck my dick, make me cum on your tongue.” His words are dripping with lust, and I can feel his desire radiating off him in waves.
I waste no time, leaning in closer and taking his throbbing head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it as I suck. He moans loudly, his hands moving to tangle in my hair as he thrusts his hips up, trying to get more of his cock into my mouth.
“Oh, shit, yeah...just like that,” he grunts, his breathing heavy and labored. His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling slightly as he rocks his hips against my face. “Oh fuck,” he whimpers, his legs shaking as I continue to suck him off. I can feel him getting closer and closer to the edge.
I pull back just enough to tease him, then sink back down, taking him all the way to the root. He cries out in pleasure, his hips bucking wildly. “Holy fuck, Ma,” he groans, starting to fuck my mouth, unable to control himself any longer.
He starts to thrust into me harder and faster, using my mouth like a personal fuck toy. I gag and choke as he plows into me, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke. “Ah, fuck yeah, take it all!” he growls, his eyes blazing with raw animal lust.
With a roar of primal pleasure, he slams into me one final time, his cock erupting deep in my throat as he unleashes a torrent of hot, sticky cum. I feel it pulsing and spilling over my tongue, the salty taste of him filling my mouth.
As he finishes, he slowly pulls out, his softening cock slipping from my lips with a wet pop. Gasping for air, a string of saliva and his cum connecting my mouth to his spent erection. His chest heaves as he looks at me, his eyes still glazed with lust.
He picks me up effortlessly, his strength still present and impressive, and lays me onto the bed. He then kneels between my legs, spreading them open with ease. Without a word, he yanks off the last piece of my clothing, throwing it aside carelessly with a flick of his wrist.
He smirks at me from his dominant position, admiring the view before he leans in and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard and tugging at it with his teeth. He watches my reaction, gauging how rough or gentle he should be.
Encouraged by my reactions, he moves lower, kissing and nipping his way down my body. He settles between my legs, his hot breath tickling my sensitive flesh. Without further hesitation, he dives in, his tongue lapping at my pussy, eager to taste my arousal.
“Oh no you don't, Ma,” Chris murmurs, shaking his head when he sees me closing my legs instinctively. He gently pushes them open again, keeping them spread apart. “You're going to take it,” he commands, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Like this,” he says, before he dives back in, his tongue delving deep into my core. He laps at my pussy, sucking and flicking my clit with expert precision. I gasp and writhing under his ministrations, the pleasure building inside me with each passing second.
Chris continues to feast on me, his tongue never leaving my pussy. He eats me out with reckless abandon, making sure to hit all my sweet spots. My moans fill the room as I lose myself to the pleasure, my hips bucking against his face.
His tongue continues to work its magic, his fingers joining the fray. He slides one finger inside me, then two, stretching me open as he curls them upwards, finding the rough patch on the front wall of my pussy.
Once he finds that sensitive spot, Chris focuses his attention on it, rubbing and stroking it with his fingers. He sucks my clit between his lips, drawing it into his mouth and flicking the tip of his tongue against it. The pressure builds inside me, my orgasm just out of reach.
He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, smirking at me. He stands up, pulling my legs up with him until my knees are by my chest.
“Oh my god...” I breathe, my eyes widening as I take in the sight before me. Chris stands tall, his erection jutting out proudly, thick and long. It's clear it's not going to fit, not without some serious effort on his part. “Look at me,” he growls, positioning his cock at the entrance of my pussy. I look down, taking in his length and girth. “It's not going to fit,”
“It'll fit,” Chris grins, seeing the look of apprehension on my face. “Just relax.” He uses his thumb to rub in circles on my clit, trying to distract me as he slowly starts to push in.
“Good girl,” Chris praises, feeling me start to relax around him. He takes it slow, inch by inch. “You're doing so well, baby. Just keep breathing, and when it hurts too much just tell me to stop.”
“That's it,” he says, his voice a low rumble as he sinks deeper inside me. “You're so tight, I can barely move.” He pauses, letting me adjust to his size. “Breathe through it. It'll get easier.”
“Atta girl,” Chris coos, his voice soothing. “Just like that. You're doing so good for me.” He slowly starts to fuck me again, inch by inch, watching my face as he does so. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
Chris' thrusts start to get deeper and faster as he gets more into it. “You like that, baby? You like the way I feel inside you?” He starts to pound me harder, using one hand to grab at my breast and tweak my nipple.
Chris smirks at the look of pleasure on my face. “You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you, Ma?” He starts really pounding me then, hard and fast. His other hand grabs at my thigh, pulling it up so he can go even deeper.
I moan his name, unable to help myself as I feel pleasure building up inside me. “Chris,” I gasp, my voice breathy. He grins at the sound, loving the way it sounds coming from my lips. “You're so fucking hot when you say my name like that.”
I reach up and grab onto Chris' bicep, holding on for dear life as he continues to fuck me hard and fast. He grunts in approval, loving the way it feels having me hold onto him like that. “That's it, baby,” he growls. “Hold onto me.”
Chris pulls out of me, grabbing onto my hips as he turns me around. He positions me on all fours before thrusting back into me from behind. “Oh fuck,” I moan, feeling him fill me up once again. Chris starts to fuck me harder than before, using my hips for leverage.
Chris grabs my wrists, pushing my hands behind my back as he arches my back. I feel his cock throbbing deep inside me as he starts to pound into me harder. “Look at that ass,” he groans, his voice low and gravelly with lust. “So perfect for me.”
Chris takes advantage of my moan, thrusting harder and deeper into me. He knows he's found a weak spot and decides to milk it. “You like that, baby?” he taunts, smacking my ass hard. The combination of pleasure and a little pain sends me reeling.
Chris chuckles darkly at my breathy moan. “That's it, baby. Take it.” He continues to pound into me relentlessly, the bed creaking beneath us. I can feel his balls slapping against my clit with every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure through my body.
Chris smirks, enjoying the power he has over me. He picks up the pace even more, the bed shaking as he fucks me harder. “You're such a good little slut for me,” he growls, reaching around to rub my clit. “You love getting fucked like this, don't you?”
Chris leans over me, his breath hot against my ear. “Tell me what you want, baby. I'll give it to you.” I gasp, my hips bucking back against him. “You want my cock deeper? You want me to make you cum?”
“Yes, please,” I whimper, my voice strained with pleasure. “I need it... need you deeper.” Chris grunts, his hips snapping forward to oblige. He's so deep now, I can feel him touching my cervix with every thrust.
Chris's thrusts become erratic, the bed shaking beneath us. I can feel his cock swelling inside me, his balls drawing up as he prepares to cum. “Fuck, Ma,” he groans, driving into me one last time and stilling.
Chris pulls out with a wet pop, cum spilling out of me and onto his black sheets. He looks down at the mess with a satisfied smirk before leaning over me again. “Ride me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire.
I straddle Chris's hips as he lies back, his cock hard and ready beneath me. I lift myself up and sink back down, grinding against him roughly. “Mmm, fuck yes,” he moans, grabbing my hips to meet my movements.
I line myself up with his cock, slowly lowering down onto him with a loud moan. He's so big, filling me up completely and stretching me deliciously. “Oh fuck,” I gasp as he reaches up to squeeze my breasts.
I start riding him, my hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. Chris's hands are all over me, touching and caressing every inch of my skin. “That's it, baby,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire. “Ride my cock like a good girl.”
Chris's hands grip my hips tightly as I bounce on top of him, his cock hitting deep inside me with each thrust. “Oh fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, his eyes locked on mine. “Take it all, Ma, milk my cock dry.”
“Mmmm, yes... so deep,” I moan, my head thrown back as Chris's cock fills me up. He's hitting all the right spots, making me whimper with pleasure. “Harder, Chris, please... I need it harder.”
Chris's hands grip my hips even tighter, pulling me down onto his cock over and over again. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, my moans growing louder and more desperate. “Fuck, yes... you're gonna make me cum,”
I lean forward, my breasts pressing against Chris's chest as I ride him harder and faster. My nails dig into his skin as I hold on for support, my body trembling with the force of my movements. “Don't stop, please... I'm so close,” I pant, my voice ragged with need.
Chris's hips slam up into me, meeting my own thrusts as we race towards the finish line together. His hands are all over me, touching and caressing every inch of my skin. “Cum for me, baby... cum all over my cock,”
Still buried deep inside me, Chris suddenly flips us over, pinning me beneath him as he continues to thrust into me relentlessly. “C’mon I know you can keep going, baby... don't even think about catching your breath,” he growls, his eyes dark with lust.
Chris reaches down, grabbing hold of my wrists and pinning them firmly above my head as he pounds into me relentlessly. The feeling of being completely at his mercy only adds to the intensity of my pleasure, and I moan loudly, arching my back as he fucks me hard and fast.
“Please, Chris, don't stop... I need this, need you,” I plead, my voice desperate and breathless. I'm completely at his mercy, unable to move my hands or break free from his grip as he continues to take me with a force that's almost brutal. “More, harder...”
The chain around Chris's neck keeps hitting against his chest as he pounds into me, adding an extra layer of stimulation that has me begging and moaning loud enough to wake the dead. “Fuck me, baby, fuck me harder!”
With a primal snarl, Chris redoubles his efforts, slamming into me with a force that makes the bed creak and the headboard hit the wall. The chain around his neck clanks rhythmically against his skin as he takes me with a raw, animal intensity. “You like that, slut?”
The filthy words only spur him on, and Chris fucks me with reckless abandon, the chain hitting a staccato beat against his chest. I'm completely lost in the sensations, my mind fogged with pleasure as I scream his name over and over again.
With a sudden surge of power, Chris releases my wrist and pushes down on my stomach, forcing me to arch my back even more as he continues to thrust into me with wild abandon. The added pressure has me seeing stars, my orgasm building to a crescendo. “Yes, yes, yes... just like that!”
As I feel my climax approaching, I reach up and grab the chain around Chris's neck, pulling him down into a searing kiss. Our tongues dance wildly together as he continues to pound into me, the chain clanking against my breasts with each powerful thrust.
As our kiss deepens, I moan into Chris's mouth, the sheer intensity of our joining overwhelming me. “This is crazy... we just met and now I'm fucking you,” I pant against his lips, the words barely coherent in my lust-fogged brain.
Chris pulls back, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity as he gazes down at me. “You're mine now, Y/N,” he growls, his voice rough with desire. “I'm going to fuck you every way I can, whenever I want.”
“You're going to be my personal plaything, Ma,” Chris continues, his words dripping with dark promise. “I'll use your tight little cunt whenever I please, make you scream my name until your throat is raw. You'll be addicted to my cock, craving it morning, noon, and night.”
I can feel my orgasm building once again as Chris talks dirty to me, his words fueling the fire burning inside of me. “Do you like that, baby?” he asks, his tone taunting and dominant. “Do you like the thought of being my personal fucktoy?”
“Yes, Chris,” I cry out, arching my back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of me. “I'm your fucktoy, your slut, your dirty little secret. Do whatever you want with me, I'm yours.”
“I bet Matt hasn't even gotten to fuck this tight cunt,” Chris taunts, a smirk on his face as he thrusts into me, hitting me deeper and harder. “Tell me, Y/N, have you ever let him fuck you like this?”
I moan loudly, my voice high and needy, “No, just you. Nobody else has been inside me like this.” Chris chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating against my skin. “I guess I'm the luckiest person then, getting to claim this sweet little cunt all to myself.”
“Yes, Chris, yes!” I moan, my voice breathless with pleasure. Chris smirks, thrusting deeper into me. “Look at you letting me fuck the shit out of you for payment for an ounce of weed. You're such a dirty little slut.”
Chris leans down, whispering in my ear as he continues to thrust into me. “You like that, Ma? You like the way I fuck you hard and slow, making you take every inch? Fuck, you're so sexy, so perfect.”
Chris lets out a deep, guttural groan as my nails dig into his back. As if unable to resist, he leans down and starts leaving bite marks along the sensitive skin of my neck. I gasp at the sudden flash of pain, followed by an even more intense wave of pleasure.
Chris' thrusts become erratic, and I can feel him tensing up as he reaches his climax. “Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he growls in my ear.
I moan out his name, “Chris!”, as the intense pleasure overtakes me, my vision blurring and stars exploding behind my eyelids. Chris' thrusts become frantic, his cock pulsing inside me as he fills me with his hot cum.
Chris collapses on top of me, both of us gasping for air as the aftershocks of our orgasms ripple through our bodies. He nuzzles into my neck, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “That was incredible, baby,” he murmurs, his voice husky with satisfaction.
“I bet you do that with every girl who comes here to buy from you,” I say, trying to catch my breath. Chris chuckles, a low, intimate sound. “You're the first, actually,” he admits, his fingers trailing down my side. “Let's keep it that way” I said, looking down at him.
Chris smirks, leaning in to capture my lips in a searing kiss. His tongue dances with mine, the taste of sweat and sex filling my mouth. As we break apart, he whispers, “I'll make sure of it.”
Chris slowly pulls out of me, a satisfied smile on his face as he admires the sight of my naked body, covered in the marks of our passionate encounter. He reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing his phone and angling it to capture the perfect shot. “Damn, you're beautiful like this,”
“Chris!” I protest, cover my chest with my arms as he snaps a photo. He chuckles, setting the phone down and hovering over me, his eyes full of desire. He pulls me into a kiss, his hand sliding down to rest on my thigh possessively.
Chris trails his lips down my neck, pressing kisses to the bite marks he left earlier. I arch my back, a moan escaping my lips as he touches me again. “I won't show anyone, I promise,” he murmurs against my skin. “Just a little reminder of this moment.”
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Authors Note: Sorry this took so long, literally fell asleep twice typing this but thank you for 100 followers!! Hope you all are having a good day/night <3 (might turn this into a book who knows🤷)
© CYBERL6VE
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buckets-and-trees · 4 months ago
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I’d like to point out this man’s insane hotness🥵
Also… imagine needing a place to sit and Bucky tells you to sit on his lap😍
I've been sitting on this one for ages, Shannon, I'm sorry! But I was waiting for a storyline that truly swept me away because this look and the potential for this moment couldn't be squandered if I was going to take a stab at it...
Poison Blood from the Wound of the Pricked Hand
Characters/Pairings: Post TFATWS!Bucky x curvy!Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: You've made a life-altering decision, and even though it feels like the only choice you could have made, you hope it's the right one, and you hope the man you're being forced to rely on tonight will help you accomplish what you need to, or else your life could be at stake - not to mention the safety of so many others.
Content/Warnings: intense physical intimicy, but no actual smut (I know, shocker)
Author Notes: Possibly the last piece for the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend! And, yes late, but the final piece to complete out my collection for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - week twelve "what should I wear?"
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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“How are things going in there?” Bucky called loudly to you.
“Um…” There was a long pause, before you called back, “Fine.”
You glanced at the clock.
You knew at this rate you were going to make the two of you late. But that only ate at you more. You weren’t trying to cause problems.
Or, rather, you weren’t trying to cause more problems. You already felt like a walking liability.
All you had tried to do was get out of the danger of your brother’s organization.
You had finally gone to the authorities, looking to make some kind of deal for safety, maybe witness protection, you didn’t know exactly how these things worked, only that you had to leave.
But evidently things had been even worse and more complicated than you knew, and the price for safety had come with strings.
They needed more information, and they saw you as a means to be able to get it.
And so they’d dangled a deal that required you to play your part as a trusted member of the family one more time.
You had only been gone for just over twenty-four hours, so it wasn’t likely that your brother would suspect your defection yet. But it was so recent that you still felt unsettled over whether you’d made the right decision - especially now that it wasn’t a clean break and you were being used be the people you expected to be the good guys.
“Are you sure?” Bucky’s voice broke through your thoughts again.
You shook your head. Since he was in the other room, there was no danger in him seeing your doubt and uncertainty.
Of all the moving parts in this scheme, Bucky was possibly the only piece you thought you might be able to trust. His reputation preceded him as someone more than capable of handling any dangerous situation, but he also seemed to harbor a question in his mind over working this operation and trusting the government agencies who had a hand in this.
You sighed, then bit your lip. The clock ticked relentlessly, each second a reminder of your indecision. Your eyes darted between two outfits laid out on the bed, both chosen with care but now seeming woefully inadequate for the task ahead.
You sighed, your eyes darting between the two outfits laid out on the bed. One was a sleek black dress, form-fitting and elegant, with a high neckline and long sleeves that would conceal the nervous goosebumps prickling your skin. The other, a tailored pantsuit in deep navy, exuded an air of professionalism and confidence you wished you felt.
Both outfits were carefully chosen to blend in at the high-stakes charity gala where you'd be making your reappearance in your brother's world. But which one would better sell the lie? Which one would make you look like you hadn't just betrayed everything you'd ever known?
You ran your fingers over the cool silk of the dress, then the crisp wool of the suit jacket. The clock's incessant ticking seemed to grow louder with each passing moment, mocking your indecision.
You needed to look like your old self, the trusted sister, and you’d worn clothes just like these a hundred times before. But now?
And with the added caveat of needing to have a brand new man on your arm and sell that he was a valid new part of your life, too?
You grabbed both hangers and went out into the living room of your apartment where Bucky had been patiently waiting for you.
Bucky's eyes widened slightly as you emerged from the bedroom, clothes in hand. He was sitting on the couch, hands in his lap, already dressed in a sharp looking suit with leather lapels - edgy but impressive. For a moment, you were struck by how different he looked from the dangerous operative turned superhero you knew him to be. He looked like he could effortlessly blend into the opulent setting you expected tonight.
"I can't decide," you admitted, your voice hesitant. "Which one do you think would be more… convincing?"
Bucky's gaze flickered between the two outfits, then back to your face. His expression softened, and you saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.
"The dress," he said after a moment. "It's more in line with what you'd typically wear to these events, right? We don't want to raise any suspicions by changing your style too drastically."
You nodded, grateful for his insight. "You're right. Thank you."
As you turned to go back to the bedroom, Bucky's voice stopped you. "Hey," he said softly, his blue eyes searching your face. "We don't have to do this if you're not ready."
For a moment, you were tempted to take the out he was offering. To tell him you couldn't go through with it, that you'd made a mistake. But then you thought of your brother, of all the people he'd hurt, and you steeled yourself.
"No, I can do this. Besides,” you thought of all the things you’d learned in different meetings and conversations and reports today, “this is our best chance to get the information we need to bring him and the rest of the organization down.”
“But it doesn’t have to be you,” he insisted.
You tilted your head and smiled sadly. “But it should be.” They had been planning to try and infiltrate tonight’s gala before you had presented yourself, but with you, you were practically a golden ticket into the event and into so many more of the areas once inside.
Bucky nodded, a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes. "Alright. But remember, I'll be right there with you the whole time. If anything feels off, just give me the signal and we're out of there."
You nodded, grateful for his reassurance. As you headed back to the bedroom to change, you couldn't help but wonder how convincing you and Bucky would be as a couple. You'd only known each other for a day, and while he seemed kind and protective, there was still so much mystery surrounding him.
As you undressed, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. You'd been to countless events like this before, schmoozing with the elite and corrupt. But never as a double agent, never with the weight of so many lives hanging in the balance, and certainly not since discovering the secret that had shattered your world and opened up your eyes to the fact that everything your brother was involved in was corrupt and dangerous.
As you slipped into the black dress, you couldn't help but feel like you were putting on armor for battle. The silk clung to your skin, cool and familiar, yet somehow foreign now. You zipped it up, fingered the neckline, then pressed your hand to your heart and took a deep breath.
In the mirror, you saw the woman you used to be—poised, elegant, the perfect sister to a powerful man. But your eyes betrayed you, filled with a storm of emotions you'd have to learn to hide in the next few minutes.
You applied your makeup with practiced precision, each stroke of mascara and swipe of lipstick another layer of protection, of disguise. Once satisfied with your appearance, you squared your shoulders, and put the lipstick in your clutch.
You emerged from the bedroom, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. “I’m ready.”
Bucky’s eyes roamed over you appreciatively, and you felt something pool in your stomach - the attraction to this man you’d been trying to ignore since you’d been introduced to him early this morning. You could not have a crush on this man who was supposed to infiltrate your brother’s organization with you, steal information, and try and get both of you out safely.
It would be too much of a distraction.
Bucky's lips quirked into a small smile.
“What?” you asked, suspicious.
“You forgot your shoes,” he said simply.
You looked down and sighed.
“Nervous?” he asked, his tone kind, soft.
"Bucky," you said, looking back at him, "how are we supposed to explain your presence? Won't my brother be suspicious of a new man in my life?"
"We've got a cover story. I'm a potential new investor in your brother's 'business ventures.' You met me at a networking event last week and thought I'd be a good fit for tonight's gala."
You raised an eyebrow. "And you just happened to sweep me off my feet?”
"Something like that," Bucky replied with a roguish smile. "We'll keep it vague - a whirlwind romance, sparks flying. Your brother will be more focused on the potential investment than on our relationship."
You nodded, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't just nerves about the mission now; the idea of pretending to be swept off your feet by Bucky wasn't entirely unpleasant.
"Right," you said, forcing yourself to focus. "I'll just go grab those shoes."
You hurried back to the bedroom, slipping on a pair of elegant black heels. As you turned to leave, your eyes fell on a framed photo on the nightstand - you and your brother at last year's gala, both smiling widely. Your stomach churned. How had you been so blind?
Taking a deep breath, you pushed the guilt down and away. You needed to do this. There was no other path in your mind now that you knew the truth. Your eyes flicked from the frame to the luggage packed next to your door. When you’d left yesterday, you hadn’t taken anything with you, not wanting to draw suspicion. With this return to your place and the cover of being swept into something with Bucky, it gave you the cover to pack some of your things - luggage that was being picked up and taken care of for you by one of this “rich investor’s” staff to go with you on a two-week vacation to a private island in the Phillippines. It was a perfect cover, provided you could sell it.
He was so handsome, with his dark hair styled perfectly and his strong jawline. Still sitting on the couch, he radiated confidence and charm, making it easy to see why he was chosen for this mission. You couldn't help but feel slightly nervous under his intense gaze.
Bucky's eyes flicked over your ensemble. "You look beautiful," he said, his voice low and husky.
Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Thank you," you replied shyly.
You’d been so worried about all the other logistics of tonight, you hadn’t thought about the believability of you and Bucky until now.
“Come here,” he said, holding a hand out to you. You crossed the room and took it, gasping as he pulled you down to sit across his lap.
“Bucky,” you protested, insecure about sitting all of your plus-sized body in his lap. You had never been comfortable with your few previous partners in this situation, but he pressed one cool vibranium finger to your lips, while his other hand moved softly up and down your back.
“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “You’ll need to look comfortable around me when I touch you, and if your brother is going to believe you’ve agreed to go away with me tonight, I can’t touch you for the first time while we’re there.”
You nodded. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you shivered.
You felt a flush creep up your neck as Bucky's lips brushed your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but you could feel the strength in his arms as he held you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself further. He seemed unconcerned, even happy to hold all of you, and the contrast between his warm flesh hand and the cool metal of his other arm sent tingles down your spine.
"Is this okay?" he murmured against your skin, his breath hot on your neck.
You nodded, not trusting your voice. Your heart was racing, and you weren't sure if it was from nerves about the mission or the proximity of this dangerously attractive man.
Bucky's hand traced lazy circles on your back, and you found yourself relaxing into his touch despite your better judgment. "We need to look natural together," he explained softly. "Like we can't keep our hands off each other. It'll sell the whirlwind romance angle."
You swallowed hard, trying keep it together.
Bucky's hand continued its soothing motion up and down your back, and you found yourself leaning into his touch despite your better judgment.
"Tell me more about your brother," Bucky said softly. "What should I expect?"
You tensed slightly at the mention of your brother, but Bucky's steady presence kept you grounded. "He's… charming," you began, choosing your words carefully. "Charismatic. He can make anyone feel like the most important person in the room. But there's always an agenda behind it."
Bucky nodded, his fingers still tracing patterns on your back. "And how does he usually react to you bringing someone new around?"
You sighed, leaning your head against Bucky's shoulder. "He's protective. Suspicious. I haven’t brought many men around. He'll probably try to get you alone, size you up."
"I can handle that," Bucky assured you, his voice low and confident.
You lifted your head to look at him, suddenly struck by how close your faces were. His blue eyes were intense, searching yours. "Bucky," you whispered, "what if I can't pull this off?"
His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly across your skin. "We will," he said firmly. It didn’t escape your notice that he’d said we, not allowing you to feel alone. "You're stronger than you think, and I've got your back.”
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Underneath that charm, he's calculating. Always looking for an angle, a way to use people. And he's dangerous when he feels threatened."
Before, you hadn’t questioned his cold side, thought it to usually be warranted, protective of you and the family and his organization. But now you knew better, illusion shattered.
Bucky nodded, his expression grave. "I'll be on high alert," he assured you. "We'll have to make sure he sees me as an asset, not a threat. But remember, we're not there to confront him tonight. Just to gather information."
"Right," you said, trying to calm your racing heart. "Just information."
Bucky's hand resumed landed on your thigh, and he squeezed reassuringly. You put your hand over his.
"Good," he murmured, eyes dropping down to your coupled hands. "That's the kind of reaction we need."
You nodded, trying to focus on the mission, on the act you needed to sell. But it was becoming increasingly difficult with Bucky's strong arm around you, his warm breath on your neck.
"We should practice," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if... what if we need to kiss?"
Bucky's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and something darker, more intense. "Are you sure?"
You nodded, your heart racing. "We need to be convincing, right?"
Without another word, Bucky's hand slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips met yours, soft at first, then with growing intensity. You melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively moving to his chest. The stubble on his jaw scratched lightly against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
For a moment, you forgot about the mission, about your brother, about everything except the feel of Bucky's lips on yours. It felt electric, a spark of something real amidst all the deception you were about to undertake. His metal arm tightened around your waist, and you gasped softly into his mouth.
When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Bucky's eyes were dark with desire. "That was..." he started, then cleared his throat. "That should be convincing enough.”
You nodded, unable to form words. The kiss had felt all too real, and you were struggling to remind yourself that this was just part of the act. You couldn't afford to develop real feelings for Bucky, not with everything at stake.
"We should go," you managed to say, glancing at the clock. "We don't want to be late."
Bucky nodded, but neither of you moved.
Then you leaned in and kissed him again. He returned your kiss, metal arm pulling you even closer. Your hands tangled into his hair, and you shifted in his lap so you could press your chest flush against his.
"We really should go," you murmured against Bucky's lips when you had to break off for another breath, but made no move to pull away.
He hummed in agreement, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, all thoughts of the mission momentarily forgotten. There was only the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips, the gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin.
Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the strength coiled beneath his suit jacket. Bucky's flesh hand slid from your hair down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. You gasped softly at the contact, and he took the opportunity to trace your lower lip with his tongue. Heat pooled in your stomach as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss further.
His vibrainum hand continued its exploration down your body, while his warm, flesh hand stayed at the small of your back, anchoring you. You lost yourself in the sensation, forgetting for a moment about the dangerous mission ahead. Bucky's kisses were intoxicating, making you dizzy with desire. His metal hand traced the curve of your hip, sending shivers through your body.
Suddenly, the sharp ring of a phone cut through the haze of passion. You jerked away from Bucky, reality crashing back. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black device.
"It's time," he said, his voice husky. "The car's waiting downstairs."
You nodded, trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. As you stood up from his lap, you smoothed down your dress, acutely aware of how close you'd come to losing control.
Bucky rose as well, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his slightly mussed hair. His eyes met yours, filled with…
Filled with what, you weren’t sure.
If you made it out tonight, maybe you might have a chance to find out.
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!
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What do we think? Do we want to see more of them?
I think this could be a post-TFATWS and pre-Thunderbolts kind of thing maybe. idk.
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
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idesofrevolution · 6 months ago
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Cult of Personality
The blistering New Mexico heat bared down on Douglas' '99 Chevrolet Cavalier. The small blue coupe meandered up I-25, enroute from Las Cruces to Santa Fe. The old man quietly sighed to himself, fruitlessly trying to think of a better pitch to sell his Solar Panels to the rich folks up in Albuquerque. Las Cruces ended up being a bust, just as much as Tucson: the damn things were just too expensive up front. Not that the company gave a single damn, quotas are quotas. Thus, still empty handed, he passed the exit sign for Socorro- still an hour until he'd reach his destination.
As he passed the exit, he noticed a bright red glint a bit further up the road. Douglas adjusted his glasses, squinting his eyes to see. He slowed down on the empty highway as the sight became clearer. It was a car. In fact, it was a bright red '67 Mustang; it's owner leaned on the hood as black smoke bellowed from the tailpipe. Douglas looked down at his watch, knowing fully well that he needed to be in Albuquerque before sundown. Though, as he approached the broken down muscle car, the sweltering heat of the Chihuahuan Desert at high noon would be a killer. The young man leaning on the car turned his head, not even sweating a single drop, and stared blankfaced at Douglas as he pulled up.
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Douglas hit the brakes, stopping his car right alongside the young man. He strode up to the old man's car, leaning in and resting his elbows onto window ledge. His stoic expression slowly melted into a wide grin, licking his lips before he spoke.
"You headed toward Albuquerque?" A thick Texan accent flowed from the man's lips, his dark brown eyes nearly black even in the blinding light of the sun. Douglas felt an odd twinge of nervousness as the grinning young man casually smiled; it felt off. Behind that handsome visage, something was brewing within.
"I'm headed to Santa Fe, but I can call you a mechanic from Socorro, he'd be here in a jiffy!" The young man's smile didn't fade, he simply shook his head 'no.'
"Phone's got no service out here, brother. I sure would appreciate a ride. It's just a mile or so up the road." He turned, pointing down the seemingly endless highway. Before Douglas could deny the young man his request, the hitchhiker leaned in closely. It may have been the heat, or it may have been his exhaustion, but for no more than two seconds, he thought he'd heard whispers blowing in the wind. Douglas said nothing, and the young man's grin grew wider. "Thank you, brother. I'll hop in the back."
As he strode back to his car, grabbing a duffel bag from the trunk of his car, Douglas wanted to slam on the gas and blitz out of there. An air of menace surrounded this man, despite his magnetic charisma; yet his foot did not press down on the pedal. The passenger side door opened, as the man hopped into the back seat of his coupe. Too late. The door slammed by itself, evidently thanks to a gust of wind he neither felt nor heard. He pulled the car out of park, and off the duo went. He glanced into his rearview mirror, taking in the sight of his hitchhiker.
He nearly took up the entire backseat. The duffel bag sat next to him, his muscular arms tightly holding it against his side. He was easily above six feet tall, likely even more than six and a half. He threw his arms behind his head, kicking his large feet onto Douglas' armrest. Outwardly, he seemed like just another good looking guy- one he'd likely see on his granddaughter's TikTok. But his guard remained on high alert.
"Just keep driving, brother. I'll tell ya when to turn off." His velvety voice was disarming, a carefree confidence just wafted from him alongside the strange heat which seemed to emanate from his muscular body. For about an hour, the two sat in silence as they rocketed down the highway. Each glance he shot into his mirror, Douglas would see the man smirking- his gaze never meeting the old man's. Thus, as the road veered to the left in the distance, their silence was broken. "Don't turn, just keep going straight." He carried a tone of authority in his voice, a natural command that would be highly unlikely to be ignored.
"There isn't a road straight ahead..." The hitchhiker finally stared into the mirror, his eyes locked on Douglas' reflection.
"Go straight."
As if of their own accord, the old man's hands kept steadfast on their trajectory. As the road began to curve, the Cavalier shot in the commanded direction, straight into the sands of the desert. They swerved, avoiding large rocks and towering Saguaros, before the foothills of the mountains started to come into view. Through the mirage before them, Douglas could see what looked like a campsite ahead, just beyond the thicket of green brambles. A crowd of maybe 50-70 people had gathered in the bowels of the desert. For what purpose, Douglas did not yet know. But as he slowly began his approach, the entire crowd had turned their eyes toward the car. Like the parting of the Red Sea, the crowd split in two; leaving a clear straight shot toward a makeshift platform right at the base of the mountain.
"Thank you for the lift, brother. Do me a favor, will ya? Stick around. I have a feeling you'd love what we have going on today." Again, his timbre was less of a request- and far more of a demand. The tone was never raised, nor was it ever aggressive. However, he felt as if one would be wise to heed his instructions. Douglas simply nodded, turning the car off, and opening the door.
The crowd was filled with a diverse cast of people, all of which were fit, energetic, and young. Not a single soul had seen a day over 30, no less than 21. They stared with vacant expressions in silence until the hitchhiker exited the backseat, at which point they erupted in cheers and applause. Douglas watched with confusion and shock as the young man walked toward the platform, shaking hands, playfully punching shoulders, giving out high fives like condoms at a clinic. Who the hell had he picked up? Where the hell was he? As he hopped atop the wooden structure in one single leap, easily five feet off the ground, he shucked the grey tank top and tossed it into the crowd. A young woman caught it, tenderly holding it against her chest as the onlookers admired his chiseled build. Raising his arms, the crowd went silent.
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"Brothers and Sisters, today is the day! Are you ready? Are you rearing? Tell me!" The crowd erupted, Douglas stared around the transfixed athletes, feeling entirely out of place- as if he wasn't meant to be there. "For one full year, you have trusted me to build your bodies into machines: daily training, nightly runs, some of y'all are out there doing some of the hardest workouts we have to offer. Look at you now!" More cheers. "When I told you that your bodies were temples, to treat them as such, each and every one of you took my words seriously. I said that each of you had the potential to become something incredible. You said, but Cameron, I can't ever get to where you're at! But guess what? You followed the regimen, you became part of our family, you became a part of something so much bigger than you even knew. And we are here today, your induction into our movement, the final hoo-rah!" Mimicking the leader, every single one of the parroting people began to chant hoo-rah, once... twice... thrice... like a warcry on the battlefield. Douglas turned, searching through the sea of people to find an escape route. Instead, he only saw five men of the same jacked physique of the leader handing out what looked to be bottles of water. Peering closely, the unlabeled bottles carried a milky white liquid.
"What sort of Jonestown shit is this..." The bottles were disperse quickly amongst the crowd, the cheery if not dim young men had seemingly finished in minutes as the leader droned on. Douglas took the opportunity to make his way back toward the car, only for a moment of dread to wash over him. It was gone. In it's place, a line of tire tracks came to an abrupt end, no vehicle in sight. The old man felt a hand on his shoulder, turning quickly to be face to face once again with 'Cameron' himself.
"I wanted to thank you for helping me, Douglas. I'm more than happy to reimburse you, you've saved the day." Whispers again started to rise around him, incoherently babbling a language far outside of his own knowledge. "Today, my friend, your journey begins." Douglas tried to pry his eyes away from Cameron to no avail. The deep brown eyes seemed to swallow any thought, any desire, any need. Cameron's pupils started to pulse, mimicking the old man's heartbeat, growing larger and larger, until the inky blackness had swallowed his entire iris & sclera. Cameron smirked as he watched the old man's posture fall forward, his shoulders drooping and his jaw hanging loosely. "Mmmmmmm. Good, fall deep, vessel. For your assistance today, your reward is to be one with me, just as all in my inner circle have done."
The black-eyed stud gently guided Douglas away from the crowd, who were busy downing the contents of their respective bottles just as moans and groans started ringing out from the poor fools. The five members of Cameron's inner circle followed suit, their eyes flooding black and mouths curling into devilish grins. The group soon arrived in a clearing of the thicket, circling around a pile of filthy clothes strewn across the dirt. Douglas was slowly guided to them, entirely unwavering in his stonefaced obedience.
"Well, my children. You continue to serve me well. I admit, this body must be hard to say no to. He is a joy to wear." The five goons chuckled menacingly, one or two of them groping at their bulges through their running shorts. "Today, as you all did before him, Douglas aided me in my time of need. On a momentous day as this, such acts must be rewarded. Today, you welcome your new brother." With a swipe of his hand, Douglas' corporate clothing dissolved into thin air, burnt ash flying into the desert wind. He stood there in the nude, the group watching in anticipation as Cameron simply pointed down to the pile of reeking clothes, and Douglas could do nothing but obey.
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One by one the articles began to tremble, before sliding across the sand toward their soon-to-be owner. Cameron snickered, snapping his finger. A sweaty jockstrap quickly flew into the air, levitating for a moment before shooting toward the old man's groin. Like a liquid hitting a solid, the grimy fabric collided with Douglas, warping and wrapping around his legs and package until it had settled into it's new home. The brothers grinned, as they watched the old man's admittedly humble bulge swell rapidly. It expanded outward, his balls dropping like ten pound weights as they grew, and his cock elongated and widened until it peeked it's head out from the bottom of the sweat stained pouch. Douglas moaned as his ass swelled thick and bulbous, the formerly wrinkled and smooth skin sprouting dark brown hairs as his bush followed suit. Cameron grinned, strutting over to cup his hand over the musky horsecock and balls that had sprang from his jock.
Another snap of his fingers, and the shorts shot upward, wrapping around Douglas' legs, quickly inflating them with thick mass. His hamstrings widened, his quads becoming hard as iron while his calves tightened. The chicken legs he used to possess now were two massive slabs of hard meat. Cameron continued to grope and massage his prey's bulge, the fabric of the jockstrap growing sticky with his pre as he moaned. The five grunts slowly lowered their own shorts and jockstraps, releasing their sweaty dicks into their waiting palms.
"You humans are so... simple." *snap* The socks slithered like snakes across the ground, surrounding Douglas' toes and sliding around his heel and fastening around his ankle. "All it takes is slipping into some attractive male, and you'll be worshipping at my feet. As will you." The old man's feet cracked and stretched wide, his soles growing soft and sweaty as the stinking running shoes melted around his gigantic feet. The rubber and fabric contorted and stretched, the funk of a thousand runs in the desert heat wafting from within their confines as they reformed into a perfect fit. The group started to stroke their cocks, small droplets of black sludge seeping from their slits. Cameron grinned, sliding his hand into Douglas' jockstrap and wrapping it around his throbbing member. "You, however, will be a prince among men."
*snap* The pot belly which had plagued Douglas for 30 some odd years slowly receded, fading into obscurity as if it had never been there to begin with. His abs tightened, his pecs became lean, his waist slimmed quickly with powerful obliques and cum gutters pointing toward his hose. Whispers started to echo in the wind as the five cultists stroked their cocks, streams of black, tar-like slime coalescing into pools at their feet.
"You will be a father of my spawn, a carrier of my seed." Cameron continued to pump the massive dick, watching with malicious glee as his arms grew sinewy and lean, his hands large and wide, his fingers long and slender. "Today, our army is founded." The possessed stud placed his hand on the balding head of the former salesman, pushing him to his knees; his mind blank as his master's shorts slid down to his thighs, releasing a grotesque sight. Whatever his host's member used to be was long gone, now corrupted with demonic seed. It stood upright, intricate black symbols wrapping around the foot long shaft all the way to his foreskin. "Receive my blessing, mortal. Be one with me." The ripe rod inched forward, dripping thick globules of the black sludge onto Douglas' thighs as it pressed against his face. His mouth opened, and it was over.
In a single thrust, the monstrous cock pushed past his lips and deep into his throat as Cameron began to face fuck the old man. The pools of black sludge from his minions writhed toward him, engulfing his legs in their glistening form before slinking toward his tight hole. Cameron threw his head back in ecstasy, howling a thunderous and unnatural roar as his underling's seed seeped into Douglas' rear. The sounds of squelching, cracking, suction rang out as the roars began to grow louder. Each slap of his face against Cameron's bush reformed his aged face. New hairs sprouted on his scalp, a thick forest of black spreading across his head. His lips plumped as they slurped on the smelly cock, his skin tanning and all wrinkles disappearing. The last vestiges of the black sludge squeezed into his hole, and with a wicked, fiendish grin the possessed stud cursed out into the open desert air:
"WE... ARE... ONE!" 'Cameron' released his gift down into his new son's throats, a torrent of black seed rushing out of his length and into Douglas' transformed body. His veins started to flush dark, until an inky blackness had sprawled across his lean, taut figure. Whatever remained of Douglas sunk into a void of darkness, only to be encompassed by the viscous corruption. 'Cameron' grinned, his will quickly overwhelming the spirit of the old man before slipping his demonic essence within it. More and more of him flooded into the body, squeezing into the soul, until it was unclear where Douglas began and 'Cameron' ended. Dismounting his new creation, he watched with glee as the convulsions died down, and it's eyes opened, revealing an endless inky black as it grinned.
"Yes, my master, this vessel shall fit our needs quite nicely." As his eyes slowly started to return to their normal hazel, the corruptive sludge within his veins reformed, pushing upward through the capillaries and into the skin, now little more than tattoos to the naked eye. 'Cameron' grinned, another human ensnared into his dark consciousness, little more than a husk to house his essence.
'Dougie' smirked as he pulled up his fetid shorts, quickly masking his cock dripping the black sludge of his master and brothers as he threw his sweaty arms around his new family, walking toward their new army.
---
"Alright, Santa Fe! Are we ready to get fit?" The crowd erupted as Cameron stood before them, his arms raised on the roof of the building, grinning over the 200 new disciples he was prepared to imbue with his gift. Those who had been with him at Socorro stood silently amongst the unsuspecting enthusiasts, ready to 'assist' their 'ascension' should the need arise. Just beside the building, his sons had gathered behind the truck in a circle, chanting words beyond our most vivid imagination as they stroked eachother's musky cocks into the large vat of water. 'Dougie', now a favorite of Cameron, devilishly grinned as he felt the first torrent of his corruption spew into the clear water, the thick black sludge slithering about before dissolving into the liquid as if it were never there. Round after round, they shot their father's seed into water, until there was more of the seed than there was of the water.
"Alright, brothers. I think that should do it." His deep, bellowing voice brought each of his brothers attention on him as they put their cocks back into their shorts. "Hah, and not a minute too soon." The crowd of feckless initiates began to line up, in desperate need of hydration, of which 'Dougie' was more than happy to provide. He hopped up onto the bed of the truck, as his brothers ladled their refreshment into individual bottles. Snatching one, 'Dougie' snickered. "Who's thirsty?"
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Suck my candy cane
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 7
Prompt: Candy cane
Rated: T
Tags: Horny disaster Eddie Munson; Mall elf Steve; Steve in tights; Confident Steve; Gareth is a little shit; Flirting; Sexual innuendo
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“Okay, I can't take this anymore,” Gareth blurts, rudely interrupting Eddie’s build-up to their next epic battle. “If I have to fight another goblin horde to the soundtrack of that Last Christmas song, I'm gonna smash something for real.”
Jeff and Frank nod in agreement.
Eddie scoffs, slurping at his lukewarm, half-empty milkshake. The visitors of the food court give him disgusted looks.
“Gentlemen, we've been over this. We can't use the drama room while the theater nerds are practicing their play. We won't all fit into mine or Gareth's bedroom, Frank's mom is having his aunts and cousins over for the holidays, and Jeff's parents won't allow our godless heathen game anywhere near their home. So, unfortunately, we must make do.”
“Yeah,” Jeff says. “But the mall? Seriously?”
“What’s wrong with the mall?” Eddie asks, throwing out his hands and almost hitting a plastic Christmas tree.
“It's loud,” says Gareth.
“It's crowded,” says Jeff.
“It's the very embodiment of everything despicable about capitalist America, especially around a commercialized holiday such as this,” says Frank. “Your own words.”
Eddie glares at them.
"Okay, noted,” he says, “But we can't be picky. Think of it as an exercise in holiday spirit. Did not the virgin Mary herself birth our lord and savior in a humble stable?”
“Yeah, because she literally had nowhere to go,” Gareth snaps. “Not because she was ogling Steve Harrington in tights.”
Eddie almost chokes on his shake.
“I have no idea what-”
Jeff cuts him off. “It's okay, just admit it. Spare us the embarrassment.”
Eddie sighs, eyes flitting over to Santa's workshop, where the subject of their discussion is handing out candy canes to excited children. He's wearing the same silly elf costume as all of the other unfortunate souls selling their workforce and their dignity for minimum wages around the mall, complete with the hat, pointed shoes and cheap, green shorts. They ride up as he bends down to talk to the kids, revealing more of his perfectly shaped thighs. Thighs clad in long, skin-tight stockings, red and white like the candy canes in his hand. Eddie wants to lick them. The thighs, not the candy canes. Which is probably weird of him, but he never claimed to be normal.
“Was I that obvious?”
Frank gives him a deadpan stare. “Jeff cheated on several of his rolls and you didn't notice because you were so busy staring- ow, what the fuck?”
Jeff lowers the fist he just punched him with. “Oh, as if you didn't!”
Eddie gasps.
“Betrayal! Seems like we are the only ones left with any respect for the game, Gare- … Where's Gareth?”
Gareth's chair is empty. Jeff and Frank swivel their heads in the direction of Santa's workshop. The very workshop that Gareth is just approaching with brisk steps.
Eddie feels the color drain from his face.
“No,” he croaks. “What is he doing? He isn't- … Gareth, come back!”
Gareth doesn't come back. Instead, he taps Steve on the shoulder, who flinches and turns. Now Eddie can't see his face anymore - just Gareth's obnoxious grin as he starts talking at him. For a few seconds, during which Eddie desperately wishes for super hearing, they stay like this. Then, Gareth lifts a hand and points straight at their table.
Eddie dives for cover under the nearest tree. Fake cardboard presents scatter in his wake.
“Let's get outta here,” Frank mutters, standing and gesturing for Jeff to follow. Eddie gawks after their retreating backs.
“Where are you going? Come back, you cowards, I'm gonna kill you!”
“Pretty sure that's not a good idea, dude,” someone behind him says. “Sounds like it would land you on the Naughty list.”
Eddie dies. Resurrects again. Possibly dies again in the seconds it takes him to turn around. When he finally does, he finds himself face to face with a pair of legs. Absurdly shapely legs clad in red and white striped tights. They're somehow even more perfect up close.
“I'm up here, y’know?”
Eddie forces himself to drag his eyes all the way up, past the damn shorts (Jesus fucking Christ, Munson, whatever you do, don't get stuck staring at his crotch), and to Steve’s face. He's smiling. There's Christmas lights twinkling behind him.
“Hi,” Steve says. “Eddie, right?”
Eddie makes a noise that sounds like “uuoomph”. When he pulls his hair in front of his mouth, he realizes that there's tinsel tangled in his curls.
Steve laughs. For a second, Eddie thinks that the guy's laugh sounds like literal fucking bells, but then he notices the tiny actual bells sewn into his hat and sleeves.
“Here,” he says, holding something out in front of Eddie’s face, who goes slightly cross-eyed. “Your friend said you wanted to … suck my candy cane.”
He holds Eddie’s dumbstruck gaze and winks, slow and deliberate. Gareth is a dead man.
“Uh, thanks I guess,” Eddie mutters, but when he reaches out to take the candy cane, Steve withdraws his hand.
“Unfortunately, those are only for good boys.”
“I am,” Eddie blurts. “I'm so fucking good, man, I promise. Definitely not planning on killing any of my friends or anything. I'm a prime example of good behavior.”
Steve regards his flushed, desperate face and frowns. “I dunno. I'd love to just take your word for it, but I'm under very strict instructions to make sure.”
He tilts his head, like he's pondering their dilemma. Then, just as Eddie is about to snap, he lightens up.
“Here's an idea,” he says, reaching out to pick the tinsel out of Eddie’s hair. His voice tickles the shell of Eddie’s ear. “I'm off in thirty minutes. Why don't you meet me in the parking lot and let me see for myself exactly what a good boy you are?”
Eddie has a feeling that, if he plays his cards right, he may get to suck something way sweeter than candy today.
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More holiday drabbles
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bet-on-me-13 · 2 years ago
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Misunderstandings really really suck
Edit: Part 2 is Up
So heres the deal, it's a normal Vivisection AU where Danny had to run away to Gotham after his parents try to kill him, and let's say that he takes Ellie with him too.
They stay there for a few years and after a while they manage to establish a little life for themselves. Danny is running a small Shop that makes them enough money to live comfortably in the apartment right above his Shop, meanwhile Ellie is going to Gotham Metro Academy on a scholarship because she is really smart and they managed to fake some school records for her when they were making themselves new Identities.
(Side Note: Danny is now 26, while Ellie hasn't started aging yet and still looks 12, but she will begin to soon since she just hit her 12th birthday)
Danny also runs a small Ghost Shop out of his store, just selling small bits of Distilled Ectoplasm or Ecto-Infused Treats to the local Ghosts in return for small favors or help around the shop.
But here's the thing. Ellie is still an unstable Clone, even if they did managed to find a reliable treatment in the form of Ecto-Dejecto. But Danny's parents were the only ones who knew how to make that stuff, and the Ecto-Dejecto they stole all those years ago is beginning to run out.
Danny begins to work tirelessly trying to replicate it, diving full on into his Mad Scientist side to try and find a way to make more ED for Ellie. He manages to make some prototypes, but he is nowhere near confident that they are good enough.
He decides to call in some favors from the local Ghosts. He calls the ones he is confident will survive this and asks them to try out his Ecto Dejecto to see if it will work for Ellie, but he does warn them that there will probably be unexpected side effects that they will probably not like.
The Ghosts agree to do it, because in the years that the Fenton's have lived there they have grown extremely attached to Ellie. She is like a little sister or daughter for many of them, they would throw away their afterlives if it meant helping her.
For most of the samples, the ED doesn't work at all. Some of them work for a single moment before cutting out, others don't do anything, and some have crazy effects that affect them for a little while before disappearing abruptly. One guy turned into a Dog, not the worst outcome but not the intended one. Another began to glow brightly and couldn't turn it off, that one lasted for an hour.
They keep testing them, out in the nearby Alley since they don't want to destroy the house or Danny's makeshift Lab, for a few weeks.
They problem comes when they are spotted one night by Red Hood.
...
Jason was crossing the Rooftops while on Patrol. He was going a little farther than his normal patrol range, since he had the time and he wanted to make sure there was no trouble in the nearby areas either.
As he was about to hop from one rooftop to another, he got a weird feeling. It was strange, he didn't feel anything on his skin, he didn't smell anything, he didn't even hear anything, but he somehow knew that there was something strange happening in the nearby Alley. It was like he could sense it.
Peeking over the edge of the rooftop, he saw a group of about 10 people. It was a bunch of strange looking people with green-ish skin, and one normal looking person. The normal looking one was wearing a lab coat, and seemed to be about 25 yrs old. Jason felt like there was something off about that guy, but he couldn't place exactly what. He was holding a box of something in his hand, and talking to the group.
"Ok guys, I'm really confident this time!" He said, "I think one of these may be the one!"
The man placed the box on a nearby Dumpster and opened it up, taking out a strange glowing green Vial. He handed it to one of the Greenish people and watched as they injected themselves with it.
Jason watched as they began to glow slightly before their arms suddenly grew to be longer than they were tall. The Man in the Lab Coat sighed in discontent, before saying "Ok, not that one. But we still have a few to try out!"
Jason watched as one by one the people below injected themselves with the green Liquid, each of them having some strange phenomenon happen to them before moving on to the next. The strange thing was that none of them seemed to be concerned with the changes, just commenting on it felt before moving on.
Finally, they got to the last person in line. As they injected themselves, Jason felt a sense of Anticipation well up in his gut. He didn't know why, but he felt like this was going to he important.
He was proven right as the Man who had injected himself began to glow brightly. Jason was overwhelmed with the sense of Pure Power coming from him. It was intense, he didn't know how, but he could actually feel the man begin to grow stronger and stronger. The feeling was nearly suffocating, but he managed to regain his senses long enough to hear Lab Coat laugh maniacally. He looked over to see that the entire group was enthusiastically high-fiving and fist-bumping eachother, all cheering at the success.
"Hahaha! Yes! Finally!" Labcoat Cheered, "It's done! Once I make some more, we'll be able to-"
The overwhelming power suddenly cut out. It was so abrupt that even the people below didn't speak for some time. They all just stood on slight shock before Labcoat spoke up, "Ok...ok this is fine. All I need to do is take that formula and find a way to make the effect Permanent. After that we're all set." He said, a thoughtful expression on his face, "I think we'll be good to go within a Week!"
The group of people muttered in agreement, and Labcoat thanked them all for a bit before they all began to walk away. It seemed like the meeting was over.
Jason took a moment to collect himself, before deciding to follow some of the group so he could question them. Unfortunately, everybody he followed disappeared into thin air after a short time.
It occurred to him that he hadn't tried to intervene at all. Usually he would have jumped down and beaten them all black and blue for testing drugs right in front of him, but he didn't this time. Why? He also realized that he should have followed the Lab Coat guy first, not waited until it was his last option. Why did he not go after that guy instantly? Why did he hesitate? Was it something to do with that Ominous Feeling that led him to the meeting in the first place? There was just something about the guy that made Jason feel inexplicably sacred of him.
Either way, he needed to tell the others.
Because from what he had seen, a Mad Scientist had been working with a group of Metahumans to create a Super Soldier Drug right there in Gotham, and they needed to stop them.
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