#if not for me then perhaps for someone else

[lowkeyren]

—trick or... tricked?

in which : you save a strikingly handsome vampire, not knowing he would get attached to you in more ways than one.

pairing : aventurine x gn!reader

wc 1.5k, vampire aventurine in celebration of spooky month, lots of flirting (re: dialogue), reader implied to be shorter than him, ofc he bets lol, art by @/shizuart, reblogs r much appreciated!! enjoy <3

for @stellaronhvnters ongoing event; the prompt i ended up w was vampire ^^ @staarri sighs i miss writing for aventurine.

you have no idea why aventurine has taken such a keen interest in you. 

all you did was help a poor vampire in need. you saw him slumped against the cold stone of an alley one night, weakened and vulnerable; his pristine clothes torn and his blond hair dishevelled. 

you stepped closer despite the little voice in your head telling you to mind your own business. vampires weren’t known for displaying vulnerability so openly, yet there he was —barely holding on, his gaze hazy as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

out of some misplaced sense of duty—or perhaps it was pity—you knelt beside him, offering your help. at first, he brushed you off, pride keeping him from accepting anything. but as the blood from his gashes continued to seep through his clothes and his breathing grew more laboured, he had no choice but to relent.

tearing a piece of your sleeve off to use as a bandage, you quickly tended to his wounds. he’s surprisingly compliant, letting you clean the gashes without complaint, except for the occasional groan whenever you applied the antiseptic.

rummaging through your bag, you pulled out a bottle of water and pressed it against his lips, watching as he gulped down the liquid eagerly. his eyes flickered with relief as the cool water met his dry mouth; and you noticed the way his shoulders relaxed, the tension visibly easing from his body. 

after making sure he was somewhat stable, you stood up to leave. though you didn’t expect him to thank you, and you certainly didn’t expect him to latch on to you like this.

you take it back.

maybe you shouldn’t have helped him. who would have known he would become so… attached? 

you have tried everything. changing your routine, leaving town, even staying inside for days at a time, but none of it worked. he lurks in the shadows, leaning against a wall as you pass by, catching your gaze across a crowded room with an infuriating smirk.

you hoped, prayed even, that your indifference would drive him off. that maybe, if you didn’t acknowledge him, he’d lose interest, move on to someone else. 

though you couldn’t be more far from wrong. 

("aventurine, why are you always here?"

his eyes flicks down lazily to meet yours, a hint of surprise in them. slowly, he set his cup down and smiles.

"why sweetheart," his voice is smooth, amused. "i’m just enjoying the view.")

he’s patient, maddeningly so, with a persistence that makes it hard to ignore him.

you catch glimpses of him out of the corner of your eye —a flash of pale skin, a figure too still in the crowd, but every time you turn to face him, he’s gone, only to reappear moments later, closer than before.

how frustrating. 

“i know you’re there, aventurine.”

a moment passes, then he steps into view, a relaxed smile on his lips that stirs something within you. “you’re quite observant tonight,” he replies, a teasing lilt in his voice. “i was beginning to think you preferred to ignore me.”

you cross your arms, “i don’t prefer anything about this situation, you keep showing up uninvited,” you retort, yet your heart betrays you, fluttering at the way he leans closer, the scent of him intoxicating.

“uninvited, sure. but unwanted? i'm not so sure about that." he chuckles softly, his voice like velvet, eyes gleaming as they meet yours. “i think,” a sly grin tugs at his lips, his fangs just barely visible beneath them, “you're more intrigued by me than you’d like to admit.”

the roll of your eyes does little to hide the faint blush creeping up your neck. “yeah yeah whatever,” you mutter, glancing away to regain your composure, but even the sun rising on the horizon seems to pale in comparison to the heat radiating from your cheeks.

“i’ll catch you later tonight, sweetheart.” he calls over his shoulder as he disappears into the early morning light, “try not to miss me too much while the sun’s still out.”

you quickened your pace, weaving through the streets, desperate to put distance between you and that haunting smirk. but the faster you move, the closer aventurine seems to get, his footsteps silent but ever-present. 

“not now, aventurine,” the words came out sharper than you intended. “i’m running late for my date,” your breath hitching from the strain of trying to outrun him. 

“a date, huh? is that what you call it?” he pushes himself off a nearby post, “and here i'm starting to think you enjoy my company."

"enjoy? not even close." you shoot a glare at him over your shoulder, before quickening your pace again. “why do you even care anyway?”

“because i do,” he replies simply, you can feel his gaze boring into your back. “you helped me when no one else would. it’s only fair i return the favour.”

you stop short, your heart racing in a way that has nothing to do with running late.

“—and you don’t seem to hate the idea of getting involved with someone like me.”

“someone like you?” you echo, incredulity spilling into your tone. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

aventurine shrugs, his presence still lingering close behind you. “vampires don’t exactly have the best track record, you know. most people would steer clear of me.”

you raise an eyebrow, “and yet, here you are, shadowing me like a lost puppy. so, what do you really want?”

he straightens up, the glimmer in his eyes brightening. “i was wondering how long it’d take for you to ask." he saunters closer, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his cold fingers lingering near your cheek. 

“let’s make a deal.”

“a deal?”

"a bet, if you will," he corrects himself, his voice dripping with amusement. "it's simple. if you win, i’ll leave you alone, for good.” his lips quirks upward, before continuing. “but if i win, i get to taste you.”

your heart lurches at the word, dread pooling in your stomach. blood. he wants your blood, right? what else would a vampire want?

you swallow hard, thank aeons he can't see your face right now. “fine. what’s the bet?”

he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “let’s see how well you’ve been paying attention." you barely have time to react before his hands gently close over your eyes from behind, blocking your vision entirely.

“tell me,” his voice a low whisper, “what colour are my eyes right now?”

your pulse quickens. well, they’re usually—

“magenta and cyan,” you mutter instinctively, the words slipping out before you can even think. aventurine chuckles softly, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear as he speaks. “wrong answer, sweetheart."

his fingers remain gently over your eyes, his cold touch pushing your already racing heart into overdrive. "then, what’s the right answer?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“they’re red tonight,” he replies. you perk up “how am i supposed to know that! you can’t just change the colours on a whim…”

“ah ah, you lost the bet.”

taste… your throat tightens at the thought, your mind went straight to the worst-case scenario —a sharp bite that would sap your strength and leave you utterly drained. 

his body presses against your back as he tilts your chin up gently, and you meet his gaze. yes, they’re definitely red tonight —a striking shade of crimson, blood red. he looks down at you, a devilish grin spreading across his face, a smile so dangerously alluring, so handsomely wicked.

“ugh…” you shifted uneasily, though you tried to play it off as indifference. "just make it quick and painless." you turn your head slightly to the side, exposing your neck.

aventurine blinks, taken aback for a moment. "oh?" he drawls, his voice dripping with mischief. "no, no, sweetheart. i don’t want your blood."

confusion flickers across your face as you stare up at him.

"i want a kiss.”

aventurine leans against the doorway, an amused smile dancing on his lips. “looks like someone forgot about their date,” he teases, his eyes glinting with that familiar blend of magenta and cyan —such beautiful eyes with vivid hues of twilight, too mesmerising for a beguiling being. 

“never had one in the first place,” you murmur, your words holding a hint of resignation.

he tilts his head as the corners of his lips curl up. “really? then… can i be your date instead?”

you blink, caught off guard; your heart stumbles in your chest, and for a moment, you’re lost for words. you look up, meeting his gaze. there’s something different, something softer about the way he looks at you.

“a little late to be asking, don’t you think?” you manage, your voice quieter than before, the space between you feels a lot smaller than it did just moments ago.

“better late than never,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “besides,” he continues, his thumb brushing gently against your hand, “who’s to say a night with a vampire wouldn’t be better?”

you laugh lightly, “you’re too confident for your own good.” even as the words leave your mouth, there’s no real bite behind them.

he leans in, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath soft against your ear. “and yet you haven’t said no.”

MASTERLIST.

[hotshotsxyz]

this method acting (might pay our bills)

(1.1k) (gen) 8x02 coda with spoilers from the 8x03 teaser. it's still thursday on the west coast, so i'm counting this as a same day coda. anyway brad torrence is a menace and i'm setting up camp in his brain

Let it be known to all, Brad Torrence takes his craft very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that when he’s called to a real emergency, he answers that call without hesitation. After all, what better to inform his performance than real experience? Tonight, Brad is a firefighter; he doesn’t just play one on TV.

His fellow firefighter, Buck, doesn’t seem terribly enthused about his presence. He generally seems to have a worried air about him, though, so maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with him at all. There’s a certain degree of vanity required in his profession, but he isn’t entirely self-centered. Honestly, he’s just glad that Buck doesn’t seem to be starstruck. That would make this entire situation far more difficult.

“Try Athena,” Bobby commands, but before Brad can ask for her number, Buck’s already dialing. That’s fine, he supposes. There’s no time to waste.

Brad’s not actually completely sure who Athena is. Someone important, obviously, perhaps his lieutenant? His character on Hotshots is a bit of a lone wolf, but maybe there’s something else there to explore. He makes a mental note to ask the writers room about adding a new character in the back half of the season, a lieutenant for him to butt heads and then bond with. They could even make it a bit of a will-they-won’t-they. He’s sure they won’t mind a few rewrites.

The phone rings twice, then, to Brad’s surprise, the call connects.

“Buck? Where’s—”

“I’m right here, Athena,” Bobby interrupts. His tone is magnificent. Calm but firm, no doubt inspiring nothing but faith in the woman on the other end of the line, whoever she is to him.

“Oh, thank god, Bobby,” Athena says.

Her voice is a bit garbled. It wouldn’t make for good television, but some concessions must be made for reality, Brad supposes.

“I’m on a plane,” Athena continues. “It’s—it’s not looking great.”

“Athena, if there’s anyone who can land a plane it’s you,” Bobby says. There isn’t a modicum of doubt in his voice.

“If there’s anyone who can land a plane, it’s a pilot!” Athena protests. Brad wishes he brought a pen and paper. Her comedic timing is excellent.

“She’s got you there,” Brad says, leaning forward until his head is between Bobby and Buck.

The look Buck shoots him is just shy of murderous. He’d be a terrible actor, Brad thinks. It’s all about focus and purposeful expression, neither of which seem to be at the top of Buck’s priority list.

“Who the hell was that?” Athena asks.

“Brad Torrence,” he says smoothly, “but you can call me Brad.”

Buck’s expression shifts from murderous to incredulous. Again, terrible actor.

“Don’t worry about him,” Bobby says.

He inflects his words with the tiniest hint of irritation. It’s brilliant – how better to redirect the anxiety Athena must be feeling into something more manageable. Brad only hopes he’ll be able to meet her in person once this nasty business is over.

“I’ve got plenty to worry about. He doesn’t even make the top ten.”

Buck snorts. Rude.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Bobby says.

“Air traffic control is directing us to LAX, but—Bobby, I’m not sure we can make it that far. The hole in the fuselage is getting bigger and our airspeed is dropping fast.” Athena sounds scared, desperate. Caroline could learn a thing or two from her about emotional resonance.

“Did—did you say there’s a hole in the plane?” Buck asks. His voice has a certain gravely, intense timber that Brad supposes would do well in some genres. Action movies, maybe, but not the high budget kind.

“What do you need from me?” Bobby asks before she can answer the question.

“Do you got a runway in your back pocket?” Again, brilliant comedic timing. She has that perfectly acerbic wit that any good heroine needs to have.

Bobby thinks for a moment. “Can you make it to the 110?” he asks finally.

“That, I think I can do,” Athena replies.

“Buck,” Bobby says, only it sounds less like his name and more like a command.

“On it,” Buck says. He twists around in his seat and looks at Brad. “Give me your phone.”

“My—why do you need my phone?” Brad asks. “You’ve got one right there.”

“Come on, man, now,” Buck says, all bite with no room for argument.

“Fine, fine,” Brad says. He slides his phone from the pocket of his turnout pants and hands it to Buck, who doesn’t even thank him for it.

Instead, he turns back to the front and types out a quick text before dialing a number. The call connects almost instantly.

“Maddie,” he says, “I don’t have time to explain. I need you to shut down the 110, get as much traffic off it as possible. We need it completely clear from Sepulveda to Torrance.”

The woman on the other end of the line doesn’t reply directly. “All available units, we’re shutting down the 110. Create roadblocks south of Sepulveda and north of Torrance. All traffic must be cleared between those exits.”

“Thank you, Maddie, you’re the best,” Buck says when she’s done. So, some people do, in fact, get thanked when they do something helpful. It’s fine.

“Is it Athena?” Maddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “They can’t stay in the air much longer.”

“Alright,” Maddie says. “I’ll coordinate with the IC over there, get triage moved as fast as possible.”

“I’ll keep you in the loop,” Buck says.

The line goes dead, and Brad’s expecting to get his phone back, but Buck sends another text and dials another number. This time, it rings thrice before the call is answered.

“Buck,” a man says on the other end of the line. His voice is warm and honey smooth. Brad should ask his dialect coach about that.

“They’re not—Eddie, they’re not making it to LAX,” Buck says, rushed and a little less polished than he was for Maddie.

There’s a short pause, then the quality of the sound changes. “Where?” the man—Eddie—asks.

“The 110,” Buck says. “South of Torrance. We need you over here, fast as possible.”

It’s odd, hearing his name this many times when he’s not the subject of the conversation. If this was meant to be a TV scene, it’d be far too repetitive.  

“Pack it up, let’s go!” another voice calls. She must be a captain, if the authority she speaks with is anything to go off.

“We’re coming,” Eddie says.

Some of the tension in Buck’s shoulders seems to bleed away. Interesting. “See you soon,” he says.

He ends the call, and Brad turns his attention back to Bobby. After listening for a moment, he realizes that they’re now on a conference call, and Athena is speaking to someone who knows a great deal more about planes than he does.

Brad closes his eyes and leans back. They’ll be at the scene soon. It’s time to visualize. As long as he stays in character, nothing can go wrong.

[angelicyoongie]

Abundance (XXIV)

— summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don't get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement. — pairing: hybrid bts x human f!reader — warnings/content: none — word count: 5.7k

Masterlist / Previous chapter / Next chapter

"You have got to be kidding me."

You slam your phone down with a hiss, rubbing the tense skin between your brows. The number Kim Hajoon gave you sends you right to voicemail and none of the many emails you've sent his way have been given a reply. You've been trying for days to contact him and the three people your whistleblower provided you with – but with no luck. It can't be a coincidence that their names popped up in both of your active cases and it's certainly very suspicious that they all become unreachable simultaneously.

There has to be a connection there, you just don't know where to start.

You slump down in your seat, screwing your eyes shut as you tilt your head back. You need to give this your full focus – you need to figure this out quickly for everyone's sake – but your treacherous mind keeps drifting home at every possible opportunity; filled with thoughts about the canines.

The last few days have been tense.

It was subtle at first, just enough for you to write off as something you imagined with everything else that's going on. You figured that maybe you were just projecting your tension and stress onto everyone else – but no, it became obvious soon enough that wasn't the case.

Namjoon and Hoseok were jealous.

You were overjoyed when you learned that Jimin had done good on his promise and apologized to Taehyung. The afternoon they spent together did wonders for the lingering resentment that Jimin carried with him. You know that the cat hybrid won't be able to change the way he feels overnight and that's not something you expect of him either, but seeing Jimin actually relax in Taehyung's presence made a few tears spring to your eyes. You genuinely didn't know if that day would ever come and at times, you didn't even dare to hope for it.

It was as if the house itself let out a sigh of relief as the last gap between the packs was finally bridged, the air becoming easier to breathe every time Jimin flashed Taehyung a smile that wasn't snarky or strained. But with every fleeting touch or comment shared between the two of them – it was like the dark cloud hanging over Namjoon and Hoseok's heads only grew larger.

The two have acted like Taehyung's shadow over the past few days, always hovering nearby. They've been behaving weirdly possessive, barely letting their youngest packmate interact with any of the other hybrids in the house and making sure to scent Taehyung at every possible moment.

Perhaps you would've found it concerning if it wasn't obvious just how guilty they feel about what they're doing. Namjoon's gaze has been apologetic whenever he's pulled Taehyung away from conversations, his ears flat against his silver hair. Hoseok's tail has been firmly tucked between his legs as he's lured Taehyung away from playing games with Jeongguk and Jimin, a frown constantly tugging at his lips.

You can only assume that Namjoon and Hoseok are feeling insecure about their bond, and horribly so. You've been giving them space to figure it out on their own, not wanting to interfere with something so personal; but at the rate this is going, you're worried it might end up creating an even bigger rift between them.

With the two canines so caught up in their own guilt and insecurity, you don't think they've realized that Taehyung has been acting just as odd. Whenever you all share a meal, the fox hybrid stacks his plate so high with food that you fear it's going to topple over. Hardly any of the food actually goes into his own mouth, his fork constantly hovering near Namjoon or Hoseok's mouth to feed them the abundance of meat he's piled up. Even from across the table, you've been squirming under the intensity of the way Taehyung watches their mouths whenever they take the bite he offers them, something pleased and hungry in his gaze. Not only that, but the fox hybrid has been absolutely preening from their undivided attention, happily following along whenever his hyungs drag him off to their den for another scenting session. He's been taking full advantage of their sudden clinginess, constantly asking for cuddles or hanging off either of their backs.

From the knowing, sad, looks you've seen passed around in the other packs, it's clear to everyone but the canines that they're reaching a point they can't return from. The feelings they've been hiding are going to come to the surface soon, for better or for worse. Your only hope is that when the time comes; they will finally be brave enough to confess how they really feel.

You spring forward in your chair as a soft knock sounds at your door.

"Yes?" You call out.

"It's me," Soohyun opens the door enough to slip in. You can already tell from the disappointed scrunch of her brow that she didn't have any more luck than you did trying to contact Hajoon and the others.

"I'm guessing you had no luck either?"

"No," Soohyun shakes her head. "It's like they've all fallen off the face of the earth! I'll keep trying and I do have a few contacts in law enforcement that I can ask for help, but you know it's very limited what we can legally do to get ahold of someone."

"Right," You sigh, offering her a weak smile, "Thank you for trying. Even if we can't reach them directly, there has to be someone out there who knows something."

"I'll let you know the moment I get any updates," Soohyun promises.

She pouts as she notices how exhausted you look, "Would you hate the world a little less if I go bring us some coffee and pastries from the bakery across the road?"

"Yes. I think something filled with chocolate would make me so full of love that I'd even propose to you for being ever so kind," You give her your best imitation of Taehyung's puppy eyes, batting your eyelashes for extra effect.

Soohyun rolls her eyes, laughing as she opens the door and says, "Careful, Y/n. You shouldn't be throwing out love declarations so recklessly. I don't think your housemates would appreciate it."

You feel yourself flush as she throws a knowing look at your throat, the area not so inconspicuously covered up by yet another scarf. The hickies hidden there pulse under Soohyun's gaze and you have to resist touching your neck to make sure that none of them are showing.

"Please go," You groan, waving a giggling Soohyun out of your office.

There may be weird tension at home but that hasn't stopped any of them from making sure that you're properly scented and marked every day. It has just made things a little more.. complicated.

You rub your face, shaking off any thoughts of the boys as you throw the phone at your desk another glance. You pick it up with a grimace, typing in the first of the four numbers you now know by heart.

Maybe they'll pick up this time.

Only a few more days pass before it becomes glaringly obvious that the canines can't postpone their talk anymore.

You're snuggled up on the couch with Hoseok and Taehyung, the latter resting his head in your lap as you mindlessly play with his orange locks. The dog hybrid has tucked himself into your neck, barely keeping an eye on the TV as he breathes in your lovely, fresh scent. You've only been home for an hour, all too ready to just relax on the couch for the rest of the evening (and the whole weekend, if you can manage) when Yoongi walks into the room, freezes, and sputters, "Shit, it smells like pre-rut in here."

"What?" You look at him with wide eyes, feeling Taehyung stiffen under your touch.

Yoongi scrunches his nose, his puffed-up tail swishing behind him as he says, "Actually, it doesn't just smell, it reeks."

Hoseok leans back just as Taehyung scrambles up from your lap, the two of them staring at each other dumbfounded. Taehyung tucks his tail around his waist, gnawing at his lip as he asks, "But hyung, aren't we a month away from our rut?"

The dog hybrid's ears are pulled back, his expression clearly panicked as his gaze jumps around the room. "We should be, I– I don't know! I have been feeling a little off lately but I thought it was– uhm, something else."

Hoseok is spared any further explanation as Namjoon walks into the room, a tray of drinks and snacks in his hands. He pauses next to Yoongi as he takes in the sudden distress on his packmates' faces, something that wasn't there just a few minutes ago.

"What's going on?" The low rumble attached to Namjoon's words makes your hair stand on end, his posture screaming defense as his eyes sweep across the room.

"Calm down, big guy," Yoongi rolls his eyes. He takes a step closer to Namjoon, just enough to properly single his scent out from the heavy smell in the living room. He recoils back just as fast, hand covering his nose as he says, "Yeah, that's definitely pre-rut."

"Pre-rut?" Namjoon echoes, his expression just as surprised as the other two. The wolf hybrid's tail slowly begins to tuck between his legs as he thinks, the explanation behind his sudden possessiveness and excessive jealousy suddenly making a lot of sense.

Yoongi swoops in to grab the tray as Namjoon's hands begin to shake, seemingly holding his breath as he walks over to deposit it on the coffee table. Yoongi gives you a look, one that says you know what to do, before he turns with a shake of his head and hurries out of the room.

Judging by their reactions alone, it's clear that none of the boys had noticed it creeping up on them early. It makes sense, you think, considering how preoccupied they seemed with their own feelings. It would be easy to blame any strong emotions on being worried about their bond and not because their ruts were approaching a month too soon.

But, even if they're not ready for it, it seems that time has run out for them.

"Guys.." You clear your throat, "I think you need to have a serious conversation about your bond. It's not really my place to say, but I don't think it'll be healthy for you to go through your ruts without doing that first."

You push yourself off the couch, giving them some space. "Would you like me to stay, or do you want some privacy to talk it out alone?"

"Stay," Hoseok shares a look with his packmates, wringing his hands in his lap as he says, "You might as well hear all of it. There's some things you deserve to know about."

"Okay," You nod, giving them what you hope is a soft, comforting smile, "Should we go to your room? It might be more comfortable to do it there."

You doubt that any of the other packs would venture out to the living room right now with how heavily saturated it is with the canines' scent, but it's probably better to just eliminate that chance altogether. They deserve some peace and quiet for the no doubt difficult conversation they're about to have.

You gently usher them to their room as they all agree, keeping a steady hand on Namjoon's back to move the alpha along. He's dragging his feet along the floor, slowing himself down as much as possible to prolong the inevitable. His head is ducked as you enter their room, his tail pressed firmly between his legs as he takes a seat on the end of the bed. Taehyung takes the spot next to him, leaving space for you and Hoseok at the head of it.

The silence that settles over the room is deafening. They all keep their eyes glued to different sides of the room, their anxiety and fear so strong you don't even have to be a hybrid to be able to pick up on it.

You notice Namjoon's fingers twisting into the fabric of his trousers, his knuckles white from the pressure. His ears have been half-pulled back since he entered the room but now they're flat with his hair, pressed against his skull. Namjoon screws his eyes shut as a rattling breath leaves his lips, the seal he had put on his feelings finally cracking under the pressure it's been under for so many years.

His expression crumbles as he curls in on himself, hands covering his face as he whimpers, "I'm so sorry I couldn't keep my promise."

"Hyung," Taehyung lets out a teary whine as he crawls over to Namjoon's side. He wraps himself around the wolf hybrid's back, rubbing his nose against the back of his neck in an attempt to soothe him.

"What do you mean?" You delicately ask.

"I can't keep pretending that I'm fine, that my f-feelings aren't there," Namjoon stutters over another whimper. "I know that it was necessary in the beginning, I was fine with staying friends and I respected the decision we made – our.. our promise. We had enough on our plate with becoming a pack and trying to stay afloat in the horrible homes we got adopted into."

The wolf hybrid lets out a shuddering breath, his body so small in Taehyung's embrace as he meekly continues, "Our instincts had us stuck in fight mode for so long that there was no room for anything else. But ever since we returned to the shelter and Y/n brought us home, gave us a safe space, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it – how much I want something more from our bond. I can't keep pushing my feelings away anymore, even if they're wrong. I just want to love you. Properly. Wholly, as mates."

Your lips wobble at how utterly distraught Namjoon looks. He appears crushed at his own confession, like he tried his best to pretend he hasn't been in love with his packmates for years; like he really thought he would be able to bury those feelings forever and never talk about them again.

"Joonie hyung," Taehyung murmurs, plastering himself so tight to Namjoon that it looks like he's trying to merge them together. Like he might be able to take some of Namjoon's pain away if he just gets a little closer.

You glance over at Hoseok as you hear him let out a sniffle, a tear running down his cheek before he reaches up to wipe it away. Your heart clenches at the devastated expression on his face, his gaze pained as he watches Taehyung comfort Namjoon.

You offer him your hand for some silent comfort and the dog hybrid latches on to it immediately, his grasp tight around your fingers.

"It's my fault you've both been hurting so much, I'm so sorry," Hoseok whispers brokenly. "You both respected my wishes and allowed me to heal and grow at my own pace. I– I can't thank you enough for that."

"I was too much of a coward to bring this conversation up again even though I knew it was my responsibility – that you were waiting for me to be ready. It should have happened a long time ago, I was just.. scared. I couldn't help but think that maybe your feelings had changed, that I had waited too long and you both had moved on."

You squeeze Hoseok's hand as he adverts his eyes, the dog hybrid blinking away the tears clouding his vision. You long to pull all three of them into your arms and soothe their hurt, but you know that the only remedy for their wounds is each other.

"No, hyung!" Taehyung gasps, his protest accompanied by Namjoon's panicked, "Never!"

"You had all right to. I did hold you both back, I robbed you of years you could have spent as mates if it wasn't for me," Hoseok lets out a sad sound, his torn gaze turning to you as he explains, "My file didn't mention this because the shelter thought it would make me look aggressive and un-adoptable, but the truth is that I was used in fighting rings."

Hoseok's grasp around your hand grows tighter as if he's afraid the confession might make you run away.

He gives a sour, humorless chuckle as he gestures to his ears and tail, "As you can tell, my breed isn't exactly fighting material. They didn't care about that though, they just needed someone who would lose easily. And I did – in the beginning. Eventually, I got so tired and angry of being beaten up day after day that I started fighting back; I had picked up enough that it was easy to land a few punches here and there when I needed to."

Your blood feels like it has turned to ice, your pulse thundering in your ears. Fighting rings?

"They didn't like that, though. I was supposed to lose, to be an easy win that would give them money, and getting good at defeating those they pitted against me wasn't part of that deal. So they tried to get rid of me – they almost succeeded too."

Hoseok leads your intertwined hands to the edge of his shirt, the tips of his fingers curling around the hem. He hesitates as he goes to lift it, his ears flattening against his head as he lets out a shuddering breath.

"It's okay, Hoseok," You reassure him, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"No, I–" The dog hybrid swallows thickly, "I trust you. I want to show you, it's just.. difficult."

"Okay," You murmur, squeezing his hand, "Take your time, there's no rush."

Hoseok seems to become lost in his own thoughts for a moment, his chest expanding and deflating with a few deep breaths. He eventually turns his head to the side, adverting his eyes to the floor as he finally pulls his shirt up, exposing the side of his stomach to the room.

You can't help the horrified gasp you let out as you take in the deep scars running up and down his abdomen, the healed wounds white and raised against his tan skin.

"Hoseok.." Your voice trembles as you utter his name, heartbroken over all of the pain he must have endured in the past all by himself.

The dog hybrid carefully pulls down his shirt again, covering his scars from view. He gently squeezes your hand in return, just enough to get your gaze to meet his as he flashes you a strained smile.

"Luckily for me, one of the workers at the shelter had been tipped off and found me before it was too late. It... well, it took a long time before I was able to trust anyone, before Joon and Tae were able to break down my walls. They made me feel normal again, like my past didn't define me. I wanted to become mates even before our first attempted adoption, but the string of terrible people who tried to take us home just built my guard higher and higher. It made me realize that I wasn't emotionally or mentally ready for it yet – so they agreed to wait until our situation was better. Until we all felt safe."

You swallow around the heavy lump in your throat, too stunned to formulate a reply. You never expected that Hoseok would have this kind of past. That he's still such a bright and cheery hybrid despite all the abuse he went through. You can't even imagine the amount of strength and resilience Hoseok has to escape a situation like that and still be able to open himself up to others afterward.

"It didn't take long for us to settle in here, despite the uh, disagreements we had at first. I've been ready for a while to take our relationship a step further, but I just couldn't make myself do it. I'm so sorry I let my fear hurt you," Hoseok whimpers as his eyes flicker over to his pack, his ears flat against his head.

"Stop apologizing, Hoseok," Namjoon lets out a strangled growl. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Taehyung gently pulls away from Namjoon's back, his tail swishing nervously as he repositions himself on the bed. He looks at both of his hyungs, his expression so earnest and filled with admiration that it's no surprise when he blurts, "I love you both."

His cheeks turn rosy as he fiddles with his fingers, "I was more than happy waiting for you hyung, but I need to say it just once. I want to mate you. Both of you. I've been dreaming about it for years."

"Tae," The tight grip Hoseok has around your fingers goes lax at Taehyung's confession. His lips part in surprise, a little hope brimming in his eyes as he only finds honesty on his packmate's face.

You see Namjoon reach up to discreetly wipe his eyes, a beautiful smile blooming on his lips as he's finally allowed to say, "I love you too, Taehyung-ah. And I love you, Hoseok."

He rests one of his hands on his chest, covering his heart. "I love you both so much that it hurts sometimes, but it's a pain that I gladly accept. It's a reminder of how much you mean to me. I still want to be your mate, nothing has ever changed for me."

"Okay," Hoseok whispers.

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders to look them both in the eye as he softly says, "Then, please be my mates? I love you both too much for our pack to only be platonic. I don't want to miss out on anything anymore – I want everything with you."

You give the dog hybrid's hand a final squeeze before you let him go, happy tears clinging to your lashes as you watch him move down the bed toward his pack. Taehyung throws himself into Hoseok's arms the moment he's close enough, digging his nose into his hyung's neck to scent him properly. He lets out a purr as Hoseok scents him back, his orange tail swishing happily behind his back as he's drenched in one of his mates' scents. The fox hybrid eventually leans back to cup Hoseok's cheeks, his eyes sparkling as he asks, "Can I kiss you, hyung?"

Hoseok immediately ducks down to capture Taehyung's lips with his own. His tail wags as he presses sweet kisses to the fox hybrid's mouth, overjoyed that they're finally sharing something real. The few pecks the pack usually shared during ruts were restrained and careful, never lingering for too long. But now – now they have free reign to show their love as much as they want.

It's the blur of a gray tail moving back and forth that makes you glance over at Namjoon, the alpha looking positively overwhelmed with fondness as he watches his two packmates kiss. He can't stop himself from reaching out for them, running his fingers through their hair or down their backs as he leaves behind a trace of his own scent, letting it intermingle with theirs.

Taehyung purrs louder as he senses Namjoon. He detaches his lips from Hoseok's with a wet pop, his pupils blown wide as he turns to face his alpha.

"Hyung," He says coyly, grabbing Namjoon's arm to pull him into the spot in front of Hoseok. "I want to see my hyungs kiss."

It's almost as if Namjoon has been waiting for permission to finally let go, his last string of self-restraint snapping as he surges forward to slot his mouth with Hoseok's. The dog hybrid makes a pleased sound as their lips meet, his hands wrapping around Namjoon's neck to pull him closer. Hoseok cards his fingers through the long strands, using it for leverage to slow or speed up the kiss as he wishes. The alpha melts into it, completely pliant as he runs his hands over Hoseok's body, content to finally have his packmate in his embrace.

You feel your cheeks flush as you watch them, your fingers picking awkwardly at your trousers as you wonder if it's time to go. While their intentions were sweet by inviting you, it feels like you're intruding on a moment that should be private. It doesn't matter if you wait a few hours before you bring up their rut again. Your heart feels like it can burst from the relief and joy you feel at finally seeing them all together; after all, the boys have been pining over each other for years and they finally just found out that it's reciprocated, so you don't blame them in the slightest for being a little caught up in each other. And you want them to be, they deserve that.

They also deserve to experience this alone, without the prying eyes of a human that doesn't fully understand what it means to go from a platonic to a romantically involved pack.

Just as your eyes glide over to the door, your feet moving to push off the bed, you find yourself caged in by Taehyung, the fox hybrid blocking your exit. He shakes his head as if he knows what you're thinking, grabbing your hands firmly in his.

He runs his thumbs across your knuckles, his eyes twinkling under his long lashes as he shyly ducks his head and says, "I really like you too, Y/n. I know our relationship is newer and that you entered it knowing what we all want from it down the road, but I just want to say that I can't wait for the day that you're our mate too. Being like this is more than enough for now, we'll wait however long it takes until you feel ready, but I just wanted you to know that it's something we want. Desperately."

Hearing Hoseok let out an affirmative sound, you glance over Taehyung's shoulder. There's a happy flush spread across the top of the dog hybrid's cheeks, his lips kissed red. He mindlessly rubs the back of Namjoon's neck, the alpha leaning into his touch as they both look at you.

"Tae is right," Hoseok smiles, "We really do like you a lot, Y/n."

"We do," Namjoon confirms, a deep content rumble sounding from his chest, "We're not saying this to rush anything, we just want you to know."

"Thank you," You give them all a fond look, your heart racing from their thoughtful reassurance and declaration. "I really like all of you, too."

You grin as you see three tails picking up speed. Feeling a gentle peck against your knuckles, you look back at Taehyung. The fox hybrid rubs his face against your skin, turning your hands to allow him easier access to your wrists. He sniffs loudly as he inhales your scent, happy little yips leaving his mouth as he drinks it all in.

While it's sweet that Taehyung enjoys your scent that much, you can't help but notice that the flush in his face is beginning to look a little too intense for it just to be shyness; his hands feeling abnormally warm around yours.

"Tae," You squeeze his fingers, "It feels like you're slowly heating up, so we really do need to talk about your rut before it progresses too much."

The fox hybrid lets out a petulant whine, nipping at your skin to show his displeasure.

"Come here, pup," Namjoon grabs Taehyung around the middle, sliding him back on the bed until he's pressed against the wolf hybrid's chest.

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, his ears flicking back with annoyance from being separated from you. It isn't until Namjoon runs his nose along Taehyung's throat, scenting him, that he calms down. The fox hybrid melts in Namjoon's arms as the alpha uses his fingers to turn his jaw, pressing their lips together. Taehyung looks dazed, almost awestruck, when Namjoon finally pulls away.

"You're right," The wolf hybrid says, rubbing his cheek against Taehyung's, "We do need to talk about it."

"How, uhm, how do you want to do it? I know we've talked about me helping you before, but maybe it would be best for you to experience this one alone as mates first?"

"No," Hoseok's voice is firm, the corner of his lip tugged down in displeasure. "We want you to be there – to join us."

"It would feel incomplete without you," Taehyung pouts, his gaze still clear despite the obvious signs of rut setting in.

"You're part of our pack too," Namjoon adds, flashing you a smile that shows off his dimples, "It wouldn't feel right to do it alone. Our instincts would never settle knowing you're so close but so far out of reach; and I don't think our hearts would, either."

Your stomach flutters with anticipation, your heart racing at the past memories that bubble up to the surface. Since you have spent one rut with Jeongguk and Seokjin you somewhat know what to expect, but you also know that the boys are very different and their dynamics during their rut will likely be that way too. You're spending it with only predators this time around, so while you don't know for sure, you suspect that it might play out a little differently anyway.

"If you're sure, then yes. I would love to spend your rut with you," You smile back. "How long do you have left until it sets in? Do you need me to go out and pick up anything?"

Your mind is already running a mile a minute, trying to make a list of everything you need to get done. You have to tell the other boys, for starters. You do suspect they already know, but it doesn't hurt to have a little chat with them. After such a busy week, it would be nice to spend some time with them before you're locked away for the rest of the weekend. Though you suppose you're lucky this time, there's at least no need for awkward phone calls to Soohyun to make her rearrange your schedule and take time off work.

"Don't leave," You startle at the growl in Namjoon's voice, the wolf hybrid looking just as shocked at the sound he let out.

He awkwardly clears his throat, giving you a bashful smile as he says, "I mean– Please don't leave the house. I don't think my protective instincts could handle it right now and I'm not exactly in the, uh, soundest of minds to join you outside."

"Of course, Joon, I won't go anywhere," You promise. You have to stifle back a giggle at how cute he looks, his shoulders visibly slumping with relief from your agreement.

Hoseok slips off the bed, offering you a hand to easily pull you up on your feet. He cups your face with his other hand, running his thumb across your cheek as he smiles apologetically and says, "It'll hit tomorrow morning, most likely. But you should sleep here tonight just in case, if that's alright with you. The strong reactions we've had so far today make me think it might set in a little faster."

"That's not a problem at all," You reassure him. "I know we all planned to have a big dinner together today, but you don't have to join if you'd rather spend some time together alone or if it feels like too much with your instincts. I can always bring you some food here."

Hoseok shoots a quick glance over your shoulder, "We'll join you. Probably not for long because we know we smell, but Seokjin hyung has been raving about all of the food he and Yoongi hyung were going to prepare so it feels like a shame to miss out on it. You can spend your evening as normal, just don't forget about us when night comes, yeah?" He grins.

You gently shove his shoulder, "I would never."

"Good," He ducks down, pressing his lips against yours in a fleeting kiss, "You should hurry out. I can hear Jeongguk pacing around outside the door. The poor bun must have made tracks in the carpet by now."

"I'll see all of you in a bit then," You squeeze Hoseok's hand before you turn to leave the room, letting out a laugh as you see Namjoon and Taehyung lined up neatly beside the bed, both waiting for their own kiss before you go. You readily comply, your heart skipping a beat at how sweet they are.

You soon find yourself closing the door to the canines' room behind you, jittery energy thrumming under your skin. You've barely taken a step before you're tugged against a firm chest, strong arms wrapping around your waist. Letting out a surprised noise, you tilt your head back, just enough to look Jeongguk in the eye.

"Noona," He whines. "Yoongi hyung told me what happened. Are you going to join them?"

"Yeah," You pat his chest, flashing him a smile as he pouts, "It would only be right, wouldn't it? Considering I joined you and Seokjin first."

"I know," He nods, his pout persisting. "Doesn't mean I'm not going to miss you though."

"I know," You echo, "I'll miss you too."

You reach up to card your fingers through his hair, embracing him easily as he tucks his face into your neck. The long inhale he takes of your scent abruptly cuts off, his arms going slack around your waist.

You hurriedly take a step back as he lets out a choked sound, his wide eyes meeting yours as you put some distance between you.

"Are you okay?" You ask, checking him over for anything that might be wrong.

Jeongguk's ears are standing straight up on his head, his nose scrunched up as he stares at your neck. "Wow," He says, "Yoongi hyung was right. They really do smell."

You rub your forehead with a sigh, hiding your smile as Jeongguk waves his hand in front of his nose.

You have a feeling dinner is going to be an interesting affair, to say the least.

a/n: hi!! i'm so excited to finally be back with a new abundance chapter 🥹 the canines finally had their much overdue talk and our mc seems to have hit a roadblock in her case. i would love to know what you think and if you have any theories about what will happen next! 💖

[navybrat817]

How would Bucky (any of the soft boyfriends like Stud or the Florist) handle it when their girl gets bad news? Like a death in the family or something of that nature? I could use some soft sweet Bucky.

As someone who was hit with unexpected grief this week, it's tough.

Not Okay

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky comforts you after a bad day.

Word Count: Over 900

Warnings: Established relationship, grief, hurt, crying, comfort, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: You're free to picture this as regular Bucky, Stud, our florist, anyone. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You heard a long time ago that grief comes in waves. Or did it flow through people like a river? Perhaps both. One moment you were fine and then the next you felt as if the tide would sweep you away. It pulled you under, the pain and sorrow like weights dragging you down. It was dark. Hopeless. You feared you wouldn't be able to surface again.

And then out of nowhere, light sometimes burst through the grief like a guiding hand.

“Hey.” A familiar voice beckoned you to pull yourself out of your throbbing head, to not drown in your sorrow. “Are you okay?”

With blurry eyes, you looked up to find Bucky standing over you with concern written all over his handsome face. When did he come in and when had you collapsed on the couch? It was too much of an effort to make it to your bedroom at the time. Why was grief so tiring? Why were normal tasks so hard to manage?

Bucky crouched down, hesitating for a moment as he reached for you. “Is it okay if I touch you?” He asked. Sniffling, you gave him a nod. It meant the world that he asked. The warmth of his touch seeped into you as he helped you sit up, his hands moving up and down your arms in a comforting motion. Why were you so cold? “Can you tell me what's wrong?” He reached up to brush a tear away with his thumb.

There were so many unspoken questions in his stare. What happened? Who did this to you? Are you hurt? How can I make it better? Are you going to be okay? You sensed how badly he wanted to comfort and protect you from whatever he could. He was the kind of man who would have spared you pain and taken it into himself if he had the ability to do so.

How did you get so lucky?

"I…" To say nothing would've been a lie since you were clearly hurting. To say everything also would've been a lie. You were still breathing and had a roof over your head. Tears ran down your cheeks, so you were still feeling and that was better than being numb to it all. You had Bucky. Those were all good things, things to be thankful for.

But not every day could be warmth and smiles. Today was a day of coldness and tears and you were in the eye of the storm, the screams in your head drowned out by the rest of the noise. You had to push through because once the dust settled the sun would come out again. It seemed so far away though, so out of reach.

Bucky wiped another tear, not pushing you to say more. Why couldn't you just tell him what was wrong? It should've been an easy question to answer, but being vulnerable and talking about feelings rarely was. It was like cutting open your own heart and asking someone else to stop the bleeding.

I’m in pain, Bucky. It hurts. It hurts so much and it isn’t fair. Please, take it away. If you can’t take it away, please, make it better somehow. I don’t want to carry this alone.

Maybe that’s why the words were stuck in your throat. You didn’t want your burden to become his. How was that fair? But looking into his blue eyes, you were reminded that relationships were about give and take. Some days you’d have to carry each other through the dark times and other days he’d lift you up. The scale would tip until it balanced again.

That was love.

“I got some bad news today,” you finally whispered, trying not to shatter into a million pieces. Grief didn’t care if you wanted to stay whole or not. It would find the smallest of cracks and burst through whether you wanted it to or not.

Bucky nodded in understanding, still not pressuring you to say more. He knew you’d tell him exactly what happened once you were ready. “I’ll order us something for dinner,” he offered. If he cooked for you, he’d be apart from you for too long. Ordering would allow him to stay with you if you needed him. And you had to eat. “And maybe a movie on the couch under a blanket?” He suggested, so you wouldn’t have to move out of the room if you didn’t want to.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You tried to give him a smile after he kissed your forehead. “Thanks.”

“What else can I do?” He asked, searching your face for the answer. “Please, tell me.”

“Just hold me,” you answered. A simple request, but one that took a lot to ask for.

He gathered you into his arms and held you tight, allowing you to stain his shirt with your tears. Crying helped you cleanse your soul, allowing you to let go of things unsaid and slowly start anew. He gently rocked you as the sobs faded to tiny sniffles and he whispered how much he loved you. Through your crying you said you loved him, too. You’d always love him.

Time passed as he continued to hold you, neither of you wanting to move. The hurt didn’t fade completely, but him being your rock and wrapping you up in love was the soothing balm you needed. And for today, that was more than enough.

We could all use a Bucky. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[daddiesdrarryy]

Draco: Oh, Pansy, this thing with Potter and the girl Weasley dating. Why is it gnawing at me like this?

Pansy: Well, perhaps you feel that she’s not the right girl for him, that he’d be happier with someone else

Draco: That’s absurd. They’re perfectly suited to each other. So why do I find it so bloody irritating? *grabs an apple*

Pansy: Oh, dear, that was the last apple you just bit into

Draco: Oh, I’m sorry, Pansy. Did you want it?

Pansy: Well, yes. But I didn’t realize I wanted it until someone else had sunk his teeth into it, and now it’s too late

Pansy: Oh, god, it was right there in front of me. If only I’d snatched it up when I had the chance, I wouldn’t have this aching hunger

Draco: Bloody hell, Pans, have a bloody pear!

Pansy: …

*meanwhile, in the Gryffindor Common Room*

Ron: Are you going out with Ginny?

Harry: Oh, I guess so

Hermione: You don’t seem very excited, Harry

Harry: I know, I should be nuts about her. I mean, she knows everything about me, and she’s still interested. I don’t know. Maybe that’s it. There’s no mystery. Guys, what’s wrong with me? *grabs a pear*

Hermione: Oh, dear, that was the last pear you just ate, Harry

Harry: Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want it?

Hermione: Well, yes, but I didn’t realize I wanted it until someone else had sunk his teeth into it

Harry: Well, you snooze, you lose. Bye!

Hermione: …

[lordprettyflackotara]

Did it First || Part Two || Jeff the Killer

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: descriptions of gore; yandere!reader, yandere!jeff, rough sex, honestly just yandere as fuck

Jeff the killer had destroyed the sweet innocent you.

If the sex wasn’t enough, seeing you with an axe in your hand did it. You stood over Stella, a blonde Jeff had been fucking for months while also fooling around with you. Jeff was frozen in shock, his eyes widened as he stared at her bloody corpse. You had attacked her from behind, her back mangled and flesh hanging on by thin shreds of her skin. You didn’t stop there Jeff would find out, his eyes trailing up to her face. You had stepped on her, pinning her to the ground as you swung the axe at her throat. Jeff could see the manic swings you had took, her head cut off, sitting beside her corpse.

Jeff had seen and had done a lot in his day. But this? This was a lot for even him to handle. Just yesterday he had been entangled with her in the sheets, her eyes now permanently open in shock. They were lifeless, fear washing over the pale killer as he looked up at you. Splattered blood was staining nearly your entire body, your cheeks painted with the droplets. Blood soaked your shirt and pants, an unhinged grin spread across your lips.

“What’s wrong Jeff? You killed for me so I killed for you. After all, you did it first.”

Jeff was not as infatuated with you as he thought he was. What you nor Jeff realized, was what everyone else around him already knew. He had the attention span of a walnut. Jeff had a pattern of doing this, hyper-fixating on girls and then growing bored. It was nothing personal. Jeff did what he did and he would continue to do what he wanted to do. Every girl he had done this to before had two options. They could either cope and move on. Or, if they were more of a spicy bunch, Jeff would have to kill them off. It was sickeningly satisfying to the killer, making someone fall in love with them so hard that they couldn’t move on with their lives. Jeff knew his entanglements with average girls could get messy. Slenderman made it very clear any potential threat to exposure would need to be terminated.

Besides obligation from him, Jeff enjoyed slaughtering his past lovers. Something about seeing the insides of a person really gave him something to remember them by. Faces and names became blurred, Jeff unable to even remember his last fling before you. But what he could remember crystal clear was the fact that none of them. not one, had returned the favor. Jeff enjoyed killing off people in his flings lives. Relatives, lovers, friends, it all blended together after a while. The mortal attachments that made humans so fragile was adorable to him. He loved nothing more than to cut that cord. His brain always justified it beyond it being a means to control his fling. Most people didn’t realize they’d be better off without those restraints holding them back. Jeff thought that if anything him killing Jim was tame. He was a shitty hookup, not a work of art or someone memorable in the grand scheme of things.

Killing wasn’t anything super meaningful anyways. So after a couple of months, Jeff grew hopelessly bored. He knew everything about you. There was no mystery, no fantasy. You were exactly who you presented yourself to be. It’s not like Jeff could reciprocate, his life a forced secret that he had to keep. And you could bet your sweet ass he wasn’t going to tell you how he became the monster he was. So Jeff did what he always did, he disappeared and moved on. As he stared at Stella’s corpse he supposed deciding to move on within the same town was perhaps not the best idea he’s ever had. Stella was the stereotypical blonde you saw on social media in bikini pics. Jeff didn’t necessarily have a type, but she was the bobble headed moron Jeff needed after a fresh break up. His appearance didn’t freak her out either, an added plus. He ignored that it was because of her wanting to spite her parents. She wanted him to get her pregnant, the idea of having a freaks baby to piss off her parents somehow the best plan in her mind.

Jeff didn’t mind playing into it anyways, burying himself in her cunt every night. It didn’t matter anyways, her parents had been dead in their bedroom for days. He would’ve loved to keep the affair going, but truthfully he was too lazy to bother moving the bodies. He knew the smell would catch her attention and things would get unnecessarily bloody. He didn’t need to kill her anyways, he knew she would be shipped off to the closest mental institution. But didn’t she need it anyway? Wanting a killer to impregnate her just to piss a couple of people off? Yeah, Jeff could definitely justify breaking things off. He decided to check on her one last time, wanting to really savor the feeling of her cunt. She may have been a helpless airhead but Jeff was never one to turn down sex. That’s when he saw you, proudly standing in her bedroom doorway. He must’ve missed the murder by a few minutes, the blood still fresh and oozing out of the corpse.

What Jeff hadn’t anticipated was the opposite what he wanted. All of his time as a killer he either ditched or killed girls, no in between. He picked seemingly average and normal women, careful to avoid ones that seemed unstable. His mistake was choosing you. Your obsessive tendencies and underlying codependency issues slipping under the cracks of his inspection. You were the devil in disguise, unaware that he would provoke it out into exposure.

You didn’t accept Jeff’s choice. If anything you had convinced yourself that he had been tricked in some way or was testing you. Ultimately you decided either way, the blonde bitch had to go. So you began stalking him as he once stalked you. You hid in the shadows, watching him climb into her window time and time again. It seemed so bluntly obvious to you this was a test, the killer not even attempting to conceal himself in his bright white hoodie. So you waited for the perfect moment. Coming right and out and killing her during their affair didn’t seem right. You didn’t want either of them to have a chance of preventing what had to be done. Jeff would confidently stroll into her house around the same time every night. He was so predictable. You felt like even though you lacked the traditional information one usually has about their partner, you knew Jeff. You knew what he liked and disliked. You knew his habits like picking at his nails or running his fingers through his hair. You knew him better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Wow this um, wow,” Jeff said, trying not to stumble over his words. The pale killer had never been so caught off guard before. You dropped the axe, allowing it to fall to the floor as you approached him. “I understand why you did it, testing me. Finding a real ride or die bitch must be hard when you’re a real man,” You purred. You strolled behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You could feel him tense up, freezing as you placed a kiss to his neck. “You need a real woman and guess what baby? I’m that bitch. Blondie here could’ve never done this for you,” You say, glancing over at the bloody corpse. Jeff swallowed, becoming increasingly nervous and aroused. Jeff liked to have control in any and all situations, but something about the lack of control in this one was making him incredibly flustered. It was humbling, having you snatch the reigns from him. “Now it can just be us. Just me and you,” You cooed. Your blood stained hands coated his hoodie, covering it with an all too familiar color. “Thats right,” Jeff confirmed, swallowing. You pressed a few soft kisses to his neck, before standing on your tippy toes to reach his ear.

“Oh and Jeff?”

“Huh?”

“If you ever fuck another bitch again i’ll kill you.”

Jeff should’ve been terrified. He had created a mini me. A monster. Yet he felt all of his blood rush to his cock, your curious gaze not failing to notice. “Oh baby does this turn you on? Seeing what i’d do for you?” You asked mockingly. You smirked as Jeff braced himself, his cock aching against his jeans. Your hand slithered down to his front zipper, pulling it down aggressively. It didn’t take long for your hand to find his cock, pulling at the length as it hardened in your palm. Your other hand slid to his throat, cuffing it and squeezing. “Not so big and powerful now are we?” You hummed. Jeff bit his bottom lip, the urge to snap at you rising but the feeling you were providing him was far more euphoric. “You’re a crazy fucking bitch,” He panted, watching you slowly jerk him off. You smiled as you nibbled at his ear lobe. “I’m sorry what was that? You wanted me to stop?” You teased. Jeff’s patience had thinned, quickly turning around and grabbing you. He tossed you onto the bed, pinning you onto the mattress. “I said you’re a crazy fucking bitch,” He hissed.

You giggled with glee as he began to tear at your pants, shoving them down to your ankles. He roughly palmed your panties, growling. “Wet already whore? Seriously? Murder get you off?” Jeff huffed. You grinned as he tore your panties harshly, ripping the fabric and tossing it to the ground: With two fingers he rubbed up and down your folds, examining your slick. “You’re fuckin soaked, don’t think you need any prep,” Jeff grunted. He grabbed his shaft, rubbing it up and down your folds. “Besides princess you better get used to taking this dick, since you’ll be taking it for the rest of your life,” He spat, shoving himself inside of you harshly. You had taken Jeff dozens of times before. But this. Something about the way he was fucking you now obliterated all of those previous experiences. He showed no mercy as he bottomed out inside of you, taking a brief moment to relish in the feeling of your walls clinging to him. “You’re insane, you know that?” He asked. You giggled at his comment, watching him pin your wrist above your head. “I’m insane? You’re one to talk,” You countered.

This earned you a sharp slap across the face, causing you to whine as Jeff moved his hips. “Dont talk back to me slut,” He barked. He didn’t give you time to process his response, his hips aggressively snapping into yours. All thoughts about the gruesome scene behind the two of you had faded, the only thing you were able to focus on being one another. Jeff’s thrust were harsh and unforgiving. You wanted him forever? Wanted to be his girl? Then you better buckle up and bow down to who you belonged to. You whined as the knot inside of your stomach tightened further, his cock abusing your g spot. “You take me so nice. Shit, maybe you really were made for me,” Jeff grunted. You smeared Stella’s blood on his face with your hands, cupping them against his cheeks. The crimson paint stained his pure white skin, the blood of his ex lover unfazing him as he rammed into you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him as if he came closer to his high. “Go on Jeff, cum in me. I’m all yours,” You pleaded. Your begging made him lick his lips, his permanent grin curling upwards into a real one. “You sick bitch. I’ll give you what you deserve,” He snarled. He watched you slither a hand to your clit, both of you close to your highs. As euphoria washed over you it occurred to you this is all you ever really wanted. Him to be yours. With his cum flooding your cunt and filling you to the brim, you realized you got what you wanted.

[voxslays]

“We fell in love in October”

Featuring >>> Vox x Reader; In which Vox is stressed about Alastor’s return, and scared of you leaving him.

You step into Vox's surveillance room and see him sitting in front of a bunch of televisions showing different views around hell, mostly around the ‘Hazbin Hotel.’ He doesn't even bother to look at you before yelling. "What the hell do you want? I'm busy!" He says, his face still buried in his work. “It’s just me Vox.” You say softly. Vox finally looks at you, his red eyes narrowing slightly as he recognizes you. “Ah, it's just you, huh? Well, that changes things a bit.” He leans forward, his interest piqued. “What's so important that you had to come all the way here to see me?” 

“Can’t I just visit a friend?” You ask gently. Vox chuckles, his monitor eyes glinting with amusement. “Visit a friend, huh? In hell?” He shakes his head. “You really are naive, aren't you? Friends don't exist in hell. Everyone's either trying to screw each other over or plotting their revenge.” He says passive aggressively. “Oh.” You say, obviously heart by his revelation. You thought you were friends. Vox's expression softens slightly, his eyes flickering with a gentler light. “But hey, if you really just wanted to see me, that's... nice.” He pauses, seeming to consider something.

“Sorry.” Vox's eyes narrow again, suspicion creeping into his voice. “Wait a minute. This isn't about Alastor, is it?” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I knew that you’d be upset about him returning…so I thought I’d make sure you were okay.” You gingerly utter, feeling gormless. Vox's face darkens, his grip tightening on his arms. “Oh, so you pitied me?” He growls, his words contort into a staticy TV voice. “Well, newsflash, I don't need your pity!” He slams his fist on the desk, making the televisions shake.

“I'm sorry for wasting your time.” You say as you begin to walk away. Vox's eyes widen slightly as you turn to leave, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing his face before it's quickly hidden behind his usual scowl. “Wait.” He says, his voice a bit softer but still gruff. “I didn't...I mean…” He trails off. He sighs, pinching the edge of his screen. “Look, I'm sorry, okay? You're one of the few people in this godforsaken place who actually tries to be nice.” He utters quietly. 

Vox stands up, his tall frame looming over you as he reaches out to grab your arm. “Just... stay, okay? I need someone to talk to, and you're the only one who doesn't want to stab me in my sleep.” He looks at you with a rare, almost vulnerable expression. “I’m sure thats not true.” You gently whisper. Vox snorts derisively. “You'd be surprised.” He lets go of your arm and flops back down into his chair, spinning around to face his monitors again. “Most of the demons here either hate me or want to use me for something.”

“What about Velvette and Valentino?” ​​Vox rolls his eyes. “Those two are only nice to me because they need something. Velvette wants to use my tech skills to boost her social media influence, and Valentino...well, let's just say he has a few 'special’ requests for me from time to time.” He says, displeased. “I’m sorry.” Vox waves a dismissive hand, but his shoulders slump slightly. “It's fine. I'm used to it.” He falls silent for a moment, staring at his screens with unseeing eyes. “You know, the only person who ever truly cared about me was Alastor.”

Vox's voice is filled with a mix of longing and pain. “He was the one who taught me everything I know about power. He used to spend hours with me, showing me new tricks and challenging me to improve. He’s the reason I’m an overlord.” Vox's eyes glaze over, lost in memories. “But then he left. He abandoned me and everyone else in hell for that damn hotel. And now he barely even acknowledges my existence.” He snaps back to reality, his face twisting into a scowl. “Stupid Alastor.” Vox's expression softens slightly, a vulnerable look in his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder... if I could just show him that I'm still his loyal understudy, maybe he'd take me back. Maybe he'd be proud of me again.”

“But you don’t need him anymore. Maybe he left because he knew you were ready to become an overlord.” You try to stay optimistic, patting his shoulder tenderly. Vox's smile is bitter. “Easy for you to say. You don't know what it's like to have Alastor as your mentor. He's not just any demon, he's the radio demon. And I need his approval more than anything.” He shakes his head, his eyes flashing red for a brief moment. "You're wrong. I'm not ready. I could never be as great as Alastor." His voice takes on a desperate edge. "Sometimes I think...Maybe I should just give up. Stop trying to prove myself."

“You don’t need to prove yourself to me.” You speak tenderly. Vox looks at you, his eyes filled with a raw, aching need. “You...you really mean that, don’t you?” He asks vulnerably. “I do.”

Vox's face contorts, his expression crumpling as he suddenly lunges forward, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder. His body shakes as he lets out a low, broken sob, the weight of his loneliness and longing finally overwhelming him. You feel his hot tears soaking through your clothes as he clings to you, his grip tightening as if afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. "You're...you're the only one who's ever really cared about me," he chokes out, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

Slowly, hesitantly, Vox pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears. He reaches up with a shaky hand to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. "I..." He trails off. Vox takes a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes searching yours intensely as he struggles to find the right words. "I...I think I'm falling in love with you. No, I am in love with you. Completely, utterly, hopelessly in love." He says. 

Vox leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull back if you're not ready for this. But he hopes you are. He hopes that you feel the same way, that you've been falling for him just as hard as he's been falling for you. "May I..." He asks. “Yes.” A brilliant smile stretches across Vox's face, and he leans in the rest of the way, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss. He feels an overwhelming sense of relief and happiness wash over him as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss slightly. 

Vox's eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the feeling of your lips against his. His hands come up to gently cup your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks. After a long, blissful moment, he pulls back just slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "I...I can't believe you're real," Vox whispers, his voice barely audible. "I've dreamed of this moment so many times, and now it's actually happening. You're actually kissing me back. You actually care about me..." He pauses. “I love you.” Vox's breath hitches, and he pulls you into another searing kiss, his body trembling with happiness. When he finally pulls away again, he's grinning like an idiot, tears of joy streaming down his face. "You...you love me too?" 

A soft, delighted laugh escapes Vox, and he closes the distance between your lips once more, kissing you with renewed fervor. His heart swells with happiness, and he feels like he could burst from sheer joy. "I love you too," Vox murmurs against your lips, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than anything.” He hugs you tightly, his face buried in your neck. Vox holds you all night, savoring the feeling of your warmth and love.

[kit-williams]

*grabby hands* primarch breeding/ pregnancy kink p l s

Its that week for the community time to pay your taxes /j

Horus' lover accidentally said it's too quiet around when he's gone ✨️

(Cat/ lemon russ)

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @remembrancer-of-heresy @felinisnoctis @solspina

@the-californicationist

tw: I guess the soft/light yandere with how I write Horus; again smut

Perhaps you were jealous of how the Lady of the Iron Warriors could always stay with her husband perfectly safe. Though it made sense after all how safe the mistress of the siege was. But you? You had to stay until you could be summoned or till he returned to you which left you long lonely months without your husband or worse you fear given how the Great Crusade was going in certain parts it could be years given how some Primarchs do compliance... Perhaps that's why the Lord of Iron keeps the Lady of Iron close you once more jealously think.

"Should I tell Rogal that something in the wall has offended your sensibilities?" That warm voice flows over you as you are wrapped in his aura like a warm hug. Horus' aura felt like the wolf pelt on his armor was draped over you... it was warm and you could easily be smothered by how large it was.

"No... I just was thinking." You sigh as you wander over to him and feel the physical warm embrace. You couldn't wear anything to bed if Horus was joining you given how hot his body ran.

"What has got you thinking?"

"How I will miss you when you leave." You say with a sigh, "How much I will miss you... how I'm jealous of the Lady of the fourth given she can stay with Perturabo."

Horus chuckles, "He would get so sour without her around for more than a few months."

"How do you manage?" You ask looking up into his bright honey colored eyes.

"It's very hard but I know if I can finish the fighting quickly then I can get you to join me."

"Just it gets so quiet when you're gone." You lean against his arm as you pet his chest slowly feeling the way his arms wrap around you tightly.

"I'm sorry it gets quiet." He says in a whisper and you smile softly looking up at him with a loving look in your eyes but you blink looking at that intense look in his eyes. The tearing of fabric meets your ears just as your bare back meets the bed. Your head spinning as Horus moved you too quickly for your brain to comprehend that you moved through three rooms in a blink. "How about I make it up to you? I'll give you something to keep you busy." He says with his hands running down your waist before he snatches up the lube.

Excitement rushes down your spine as you try to slow him down and yet you're excited for the burn of the stretch aided by the lube... the slight discomfort that comes with him pushing his cock inside of your well trained body. Made for him as he often says and you shiver at the thoughts of his deep voice telling you how you were made for this moment... made to scream under him... made to be his perfect little partner... and while you didn't believe in a higher power you believed him. Screamed his name out instead of some deity as he easily took its place in your life... though that did change when he was away.

He made you feel so warm and fuzzy in the head. Your eyes rolling back as his hips met yours again and again... you ignored the way he was talking to someone else... were they in the room? Was it over his vox? It didn't matter what he said was all the same... The Legion Mother is feeling her usual upset before we part again. I am comforting her we will meet later... all you could do was open your mouth slightly and croak out his name.

"I'm going to give you a baby! So many babies to keep you distracted while I'm gone!" He says effortlessly without a grunt in his voice were a lesser man would have to given how eagerly he was spearing himself inside of you and it wouldn't stop until you passed out overflowing with his cum. He grinned down at you, "Certainly this time it will take!"

[roguelov]

Invisible Hands

Request: Ok. Okokokok from the kinktober list (ignore this if you aren't interested ofc) Morpheus and the ghost prompt. Imagine either the reader or Morpheus is the ghost and the ghost can touch the other but they can't touch the ghost. Like they can be teased endlessly and there's nothing they can grab so extra intense like just imagine if only reader can see ghost Morpheus or he can become invisible then he could tease them anywhere he wanted like the possibilities are corrupting my soul

Notes: Thank you my sweet panini anon!

Word Count: ~2.7k

Reader: afab (referred to as my dear/my love)

Warnings: SMUT (ghost!Morpheus, breast play, fingering, dirty talk, doggy, window/mirror sex, light exhibition, voyeurism, penetrative sex)

Inhaling the aromas, a pleased hum rumbled in your throat and harmonized with the sizzling vegetables in the skillet. Your stomach grumbled, eager and wishing to devour your dinner now. Shaking your head, a joking smile curled over your lips. Soon, you told yourself. Soon you will feast then crawl into bed.

Yet, someone else had plans, someone wanted to disrupt your peace.

Hands - cold and firm - wrapped around your waist. You gasped. Panic flooded your system, but it all quickly dissipated. Frustration, and some embarrassment, swiftly overtook your flash of panic.

“Morpheus,” you hissed under your breath.

A low chuckle reverberated near your ear.

You whipped your head over your shoulder, throwing a heated glare. And yet, there was no one. Perhaps if you squinted you may see the vague wispy outline of a man, or perhaps it was your imagination conjuring such a shape.

“Cheeky,” you grumbled at the empty space.

Morpheus was a ghost, a gentleman from a bygone era struck dead and doomed to haunt the grounds. Unfortunately over the years, the grounds had been purchased and built on. From a shop, to a house, to finally an apartment complex, Morpheus was the one constant that stayed and had become a resident as well so to speak. And best of all - or worst depending on your view - Morpheus in turn had become your ghost, specifically your spectral lover. You weren’t sure when and how it all started, the beginning was all foggy with the thick haze of lust.

But, you didn’t mind.

He was yours, and you were his.

His hands trailed down, slipping under your baggy shirt. Your own hands flew down trying to stop the demanding hands, however they passed through them.

“Morpheus -“

“Pay no mind to me,” a rich voice cooed in your ear. “Please, continue to focus on cooking your dinner.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. “How can I -“

Your breath hitched. His fingers skimmed up your sides then danced below your breasts. Your eyes dropped down. Your shirt was bunched up. The lumps and movements of hands constantly roamed beneath. His touch was insatiable. He wished to map out your curves … again. He truly could never tire of the softness of your skin, the warmth, the life which flowed through you. While due to his nature, he on the other hand was frighteningly cold. His hands were always so cold they were like ice against your searing skin.

His palm pressed into your stomach, making you shiver. His lips brushed over your ear then dipped below to gently kiss your neck. His hand moved back up. A light hum tumbled off your lips. His fingers brushed along the underside of your soft breasts. “No bra?” He murmured with a teasing tone.

A heat licked at your cheeks. “I - I am home, why would I?”

“A valid reason, my dear, but are you sure you were not waiting for me?”

You scoffed, “You give yourself a lot of credit.”

“I believe my work can speak for itself.” His slender fingers pinched your sensitive nipples. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed back a sinful sound. “I do believe I always leave you more than satisfied, yes? But, do correct me if I’m wrong?”

What a smug man.

He then began to knead and play with your breasts, loving how such a delicate task left you panting and growing desperate. His thumbs then swept over your nipples. Electricity shot down your spine. So cold, so wonderful. You dropped the wooden spoon, letting it clatter to the ground. Your vegetables will most likely burn at this right.

Fuck.

Morpheus hummed, pleased to see you holding back. He will make you sing soon enough. Your body was his most cherished instrument. With every tug, every twist, every pluck, he could orchestrate such a sweet melody. Your body will bend to him. And he knew what chords to play, and in what order, to achieve it. Such as if he truly wanted to make you sing right now, he could wrap his lips around your nipples and suck on them. You always made such lovely sounds when his tongue was involved.

“Relax,” he purred.

Fall into me, bend to me, he thought.

You choked on your words, “My - my dinner -“

The stove clicked, shutting off itself. The pan slid to the side off of the hot burner. Morpheus was growing impatient, and his hunger knew no bounds. “Let me take care of you.”

He twisted your nipples. You moaned so beautifully for him. You finally leaned your head back, relieved to have a solid presence to support you. You had no fight, no more retorts.

You wanted him.

His lips skimmed over your neck. Goosebumps trailed behind in their chilly path. He then pressed gentle, loving kisses into your skin. Each one a proclamation of his desire for you. His hands gave your breasts a break. But, not your body. Oh no, like before he wanted to make you sing. They slid down your stomach then traced along the waistband of your shorts. His fingers glided over once, then twice, before dipping below the band. His finger immediately swirled around your clit, then slid between your folds. He swiped between them, rubbing and teasing you.

A devious smile painted across Morpheus’s face. You were dripping for now, and you always were. “So wet,” he smirked. “I thought you said I give myself too much credit.”

“Please,” you whispered breathlessly. You tipped your head back, trying to look back at your lover, at where you believed his eyes were. You reached up, swiping at the space where his face would be for it to only connect with air. “I need you.”

I want to touch you, to feel you, to kiss you.

He snickered. “Allow me to have my fun, my dear. I assure you you will be satisfied as usual.”

“But -“

A finger slowly pushed inside of you. A small yet delicious stretch made your back arch. You bit your lip, holding back your moan. Morpheus’s eyes dazzled with excitement. You truly were so wondrous. He could watch you all day and night, all your cute lovely expressions.

A hand cupped your face, drawing you into the invisible space. Your eyes fluttered closed as you used your other senses to guide you. Cool lips brushed over yours. You chased after them. He huffed, a small laugh through his nose. It was always nice to see you were addicted to him as much as he was to you. He captured your lips. You hummed, melting into him. His lips moved with such precision. He poured hot passion into your veins. He will burn you from the inside out if he must.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as your mind focused solely on his lips, on the feeling of him. You tried to grab him - something - but to no avail.

You were simply at his mercy.

His finger curled inside of you. You moaned loudly, but Morpheus swallowed it up. His tongue dove in between your lips, swirling around. He explored your mouth. His tongue danced with yours. You tried to fight back, but you couldn’t. He consumed you and all your senses. Morpheus dominated you, and your knees trembled with every swipe of his vile tortuous tongue.

But, you shouldn’t focus only on his tongue.

That was your mistake.

His finger began to pump at a lazy pace. How could you forget? His fingers were vile and tortuous too.

He drew back, breaking the kiss. You whined faintly. Your eyes were still closed, your brows furrowed in a frustrated knot, and your lips were utterly abused and sopped from the messy kiss. His finger gradually picked up its pace. Your eyes flew open.

He chuckled, “You, my dear, always amaze me.”

He added a second finger, filling you more and satiated the ache for more. You whimpered, bucking your hips. Deeper, faster, harder, you wanted him to ruin you.

“And always so responsive.”

His fingers curled again hitting the perfect spot. You moan, squirming in his grasp.

His lips brushed against yours again murmuring, “And always so pretty when you come for me.”

Tears prickled in your eyes. You searched and searched wildly but saw nothing, not your Morpheus. All you saw was the dull ceiling and walls of your kitchen. “Morpheus -“

“Shh, I got you. I told you, let me take care of you.”

He removed his fingers with a graphic wet sound. Your cheeks burned. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt pulling it up and over your head. Your breast spilled into the air. Morpheus wasted no time, pinching your nipples again. You groaned, burying your head towards him. Seeing you so flustered and needy, he supposed he could make this a little faster. His own arousal was becoming difficult to fight back on anyway. With a small trick, he phased your shorts and underwear off your body, leaving you now fully bare in your kitchen. The cold air against your glistening cunt made you shiver. Hands then gently pushed you forward, making you bend over the counter. You pressed your sweaty forehead into the cool countertop. You peered over your shoulder.

Still no one.

You pouted. Yet, your pout dropped as a silent moan fell from your lips. Something teased your folds. You recognized the thick shape as Morpheus’s cock. You pushed back, desperate to take him. But, he pulled back, keeping just his tip between your folds.

“Stop teasing me,” you begged.

His cock rubbed through your folds. He rocked his hips, lightly humping you. Your mind began to splinter. Lust clouded your mind. Needs and wants curled around your throat, threatening to squeeze out all your depraved secrets. You met his shallow thrust, feeling the head of his cock rub against your swollen clit. Each thrust - the mind numbing friction - made you cry out.

“Please,” you panted.

You needed to feel him fill you and stretch you.

“Say it again,” he growled.

You let out a shaky breath, “Please, Morpheus.”

Grabbing his cock, he slowly pushed inside. You clawed at the smooth counter. Inch by delicious inch, he filled your cunt until he bottomed out. Morpheus curled his body over you. His lips kissed your neck, and his chiseled chest pressed into your back. The coolness mixed well with your perspiration.

Hot and cold.

Dead and alive.

“Are you ready,” he purred in your ear.

You nodded, biting your lip. His hips rocked slowly. His cock dragged out through your walls before pushing back in.

Soft, teasing thrusts. One to make you desperate.

“Morpheus,” you whimpered.

His cock continued the painstakingly slow pace, loving the sensation of your walls clamping down around him and pulling him back in. You didn’t need to say anything, your body screamed for more.

“You’re taking me so well,” he hummed.

You swore you could cry. “Fuck, faster please.”

He smirked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! Please.”

His hips snapped, setting a brutal new pace. All the air caught in your throat. Your eyes widened then nearly rolled back. Your head fell onto the counter. For now, all you could hear was the slapping of skin. Turning your head, you peered over and locked onto the nearby window. With the dark backdrop and the light inside, it acted like a mirror. You could watch your body being pummeled. You watched as your ass jiggled and contorted, you watched as your breasts bounced with every thrust, you watched as the obvious handprints dug into your malleable skin and hips daring to leave permanent marks.

Your lust rattled mind realized something: the curtains were opened. Apartments across the way could watch you, watch as nothing absolutely ruined.

Would someone think you were fucking yourself? Would they be confused? Would they be turned on? If Morpheus shifted his body, could you watch as his invisible cock filled you, stretching you?

You shivered at your thoughts.

Morpheus’s chuckle broke you out of your thoughts. He saw you eyeing the window. He saw what you saw. “Oh? Do you like to watch?” He paused, considering something else. “Or would you like someone else to watch?”

Words lodged in your throat.

“I can feel you clenching around me, my love,” he teased. You buried your face in your forearms, embarrassed how much this all truly turned you on. “Look. Now do you like to watch me?”

You peered out of the corner of your eye. After his question, his body became corporeal. He was a well built man, toned and lean. His back and arm muscles rippled with every thrust. His pale skin seemed to glow brighter in death. His hair was black as Death’s robes, and cropped short. His eyes shone like pale blue moons. Here he was, Morpheus, your ghost lover in all of his glory. A man whose face belonged in renaissance paintings, spoken as a king or a lord. A man from an era of courtship and marriage, of hidden letters passed between lovers, of romance and roses. And yet here he was, his long heavy cock pounding in and out.

He fucked you like a toy, his toy.

You watched, utterly memorized.

“Or only like this?” His body disappeared again, leaving only the sounds of his destruction upon your body.

You whimpered.

“Answer me, sweet one,” his voice whispered next to your ear.

“B-both,” you stuttered out. You loved watching him, and you loved knowing you were simply at his mercy.

Your ghost, your monster.

“Can - can I see you?” You asked under your breath. You desperately wanted to see him, to see his body and face. Tonight, you needed him, all of him.

“Of course.”

His body reformed. You sighed happily. His head was tipped forward. His lips parted, panting. You swore with each puff, a cold chill spread over your back. His hair - usually slicked back - flopped in his face, begging to be played with. Your eyes fell to his cock, coated in your combined juices.

Pleasure crackled down your spine.

Yet, Morpheus was not satisfied. He moved you a few inches away from the counter. He bent you down more, hitting a new angle. Stars exploded behind your eyes. His blunt tip kissed your cervix over and over. You moaned loudly without a care.

“There,” he mused. “Right there. So beautiful, so sweet.”

Head hanging, you grabbed the edge of the counter, trying to hold on and keep yourself up. But, your thigh and knees shook, threatening to crumble. The stretch was intoxicating. You could hardly catch your breath. Opening your eyes, you watched as Morpheus’s cock disappeared in and out of you. Your stomach even bulged at this angle. Your mouth hung open and you swore drool pooled at your lip. You closed your eyes, focusing on the rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Morpheus, please, I’m so close,” you whined, greedily matching his pace. You began to erratically hump his cock, desperate for your release.

Without saying a word, one of his hands on your hips snaked down between your legs. His fingers circled around your needy swollen clit. Your back arched. You moaned, it was all the encouragement he needed to keep going.

“Then come, my love,” he purred, pounding feverishly into you. “Let me so you unravel, let me hear you sing, let me see you come all over my cock. I want you to make a mess on me, my love.”

You writhed, feeling the pressure build and build ready to snap.

“Watch me fill you, my love.” His fingers moved faster drawing more aching circles.

You were almost there.

“I told you to watch.” He lightly smacked your clit. You gasped, your eyes snapped open. Your eyes connected back to how his cock pumped into your cunt. “Perfect.”

He could tell you were watching by the way your walls tightened around him. It had seemed he had found an unspoken kink of yours.

“Now, be good for me, and come on me.”

Seeing his thick cock fuck you, feeling his blunt tip hitting the deepest parts of you, and his sweet words all combined tougher and pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name, coming all over his cock. Your knees nearly gave out. Luckily, Morpheus held you up. He worked you through your orgasm leaving you floating in utter bliss. After a few more pumps, he buried himself to the hilt, moaning.

The aftermath and heavy panting filled the air. Ever so slowly, Morpheus removed himself. You suddenly felt so empty.

“Let me help you.” Morpheus whispered tenderly. “I’ll prepare a bath for you.”

“Please,” you mumbled, now exhausted.

He laughed then kissed your back. “Of course, my love.”

[pomefioredove]

anyway I'm only thinking about this because I really like different origin explanations for yuu

(not as a theory, more like a "wouldn't this be cool?" thing)

canon yuu as we know them is our symbolic alice, right? the game is called twisted wonderland, the first dorm they deal with is heartslabyul, and similarly to alice in the disney movie and original book, they're a small, effeminate person lost in a world they don't understand, where they're in constant danger and never taken seriously

but I also really like the idea of villain!yuu

for this concept to work, though, it couldn't be a Disney villain whose already in TWST. no Frollo, no Maleficent, none of that. but it also has to be a villain who's different from the others. Yuu is our main character, after all, and it would be strange to have them be a run-of-the-mill villain, like... say, Captain Hook. it just wouldn't make sense

so they would have to be a villain that's quite different from the others, and they would have to be a villain who isn't well known in Twisted Wonderland. so, no "Righteous Judge" or "Great Seven" equivalent

they would have to have been forgotten. abandoned by history

now, we know that the Great Seven are remembered as heroes, but even minor characters have their folk tales and admirers, so being a niche villain isn't a good enough excuse. this villain would have to have been bad. worse than Frollo, worse than the Evil Queen, worse than Maleficent. someone so terrible that there were no survivors left to write them as a hero. someone so terrible that other mages had to cover them up

(I read a pretty neat theory about there having been an eighth member of the great seven who was eventually written over, which I'll link¹ later since I found it AS I was writing this, and the op and I had the same idea!)

but the theory essentially states that NRC originally had eight dorms, with Ramshackle being the forgotten dorm

in TWST canon, Ramshackle is based on the Mickey Mouse cartoons of the 30s (Lonesome Ghosts in particular) but it wouldn't be unrealistic to say that, if it had been an eighth dorm that was abandoned, especially if it was a very old one, it would have gone through centuries of renovations, just to fall out of use around the Victorian-equivalent era

then there's Yuu

and there are the questions: if they were a twisted villain, why do they have no magic? where did they come from? why are they here? and how do they have their memories, if they're from Twisted Wonderland?

I'll do one at a time:

!. The Question of Memory

canon Yuu is really interesting because they're so... well... Yuu. they're implied to have many talents, perhaps more than a normal person should have at their supposed age, they're strong, smart, and "less innocent than they seem", as Malleus said

but if Yuu was from Twisted Wonderland, then why do they have memories of home?

well... what if they were lying?

bear with me. now, maybe they could remember their past, and are withholding it, or (and this makes more sense to me), they don't remember their past and are pretending they do. why? because they have snippets of memory of who they once were, and they don't want anyone else to see them as that person. for any number of reasons

they could also just be confused and lost and trying to piece together their past, and is hoping that Crowley being able to send them back "home" will restore their full memory

okay, but what if "home" doesn't exist as they remember it?

Yuu is known to have "visions" of the past/future (which I will come back to), and it's likely that the only thing they remember about their "home" is the visions they have of it. the "home" they see is a place that no longer exists. and, as it was once ruled by a villain so evil that the world did everything they could to cover it up, there's no mention of it in history books. that's why Crowley can't find their home on a map or in a book

2. The Question of Magic

Yuu is canonically magicless. or so we're told

the Dark Mirror basically says that they have "nothing" in their soul. they can't cast spells or wield a magic pen

but they also have visions of the past, can connect with other realms, and aren't fucking dead, even after being hurt so many times, which, to me, can be explained by magic

Yuu has magic. they just can't use it

something could be blocking their magic pool, or they could have just forgotten how to use it (via the memory loss), or their magic manifests in other ways

I do really want to talk about Yuu's strength, though. I've had discussions about this before, because Yuu, despite being called small/weak by the other characters, is ridiculously powerful

here's the big thing: they don't die

six overblots, the prologue in the mine, book 6, glomas, playful land, the many in-school fights, the hypothermic conditions at Ramshackle, and Yuu is still healthy and alive

hell, they've probably been poisoned at least once. being friends with Kalim, Vil's overblot, and Lilia's cooking are all strong contenders

and they are. STILL. ALIVE!

maybe their magic isn't casting fireball. maybe it's something deeper. darker. maybe Yuu can't die

because Yuu is already dead.

3. How?

how Yuu even ended up in Twisted Wonderland is (supposedly) a mystery. at least, I don't think it's been explained yet...?

I'm gonna say it's not. for the sake of my essay

they don't know how they got here, and supposedly have no memory of the moments leading up to their arrival. where did they come from? why are they here? and how?

what if, bear with me, Yuu was dead. Yuu was dead, and something brought them back

the "world" they came from, the reason why their memories are so cloudy and vague, was actually the underworld

now Yuu is this undead thing, who was once an incredibly powerful mage, but whose magic is now being entirely used to keep them breathing and walking. so they can't be casting lightning bolt

(it would also be cool if Yuu had overblotted in a past life and that's what killed them but that's not a part of this essay)

being undead would explain how nothing kills them, why they can't properly wield magic (it's more like magic is wielding them, tbh), and why the Dark Mirror thought they had no soul

HOW they were brought back to the mortal world, I can't decide. there's so many good options- Crowley did some very illegal necromancy shit, Grim accidentally triggered something at NRC, or perhaps Yuu in their state of decay, used all their remaining magic to revive themselves, sacrificing their magic pool and their memories in the process. the latter being my favorite. Yuu necromancer

4. ...And Consequence

as we all know, shit gets weird at NRC after Yuu enrolls. I've seen a lot of REALLY fun theories about why this is, here's mine:

Yuu, being the absolute power source that they are, being associated with death and disaster and necromancy, is indirectly causing the blots by leaking so much fucking magic into their environment that it's making the more powerful mages like 10x more likely to overblot

that's it. they just attract death and destruction to them

5. Final Remarks

there are other little things I think would make this make sense. why aren't they afraid of Malleus (or, like anything)? because they're worse. much worse. and even though they can't remember everything, they know that

but the name! Yuu! that's not connected to any villains!

BUT IT IS, because "Yuu" is not their real name. it's supposed to sound like "you" because they made it up on the spot. it's almost as if... names are a source of weakness to powerful mages... and they're withholding theirs because they remember that

Grim could either be some rando Twisted Wonderland thing or he could be the source of their visions. I haven't quite decided yet

Malleus once says that Yuu is "not as innocent as they seem", which would make me wonder if he knows something the others don't. or if Lilia does. or even Silver. Briar Valley is medieval in many ways, and if anyone would keep record of a villain so evil and powerful that the rest of history buried them entirely, it would be Briar Valley

if Yuu did have an overblot, it would be bad. Idia Shroud bad. Malleus Draconia bad. worse, even, if Yuu is an experienced necromancer and can induce (and possibly manipulate) blot

6. The End

let me TLDR this: this Yuu is not "Yuu", but an ancient and powerful mage who necromancied themself back to life and ended up at NRC with a clouded memory of their past life. the ~figure~ they're based on was so horrible and destructive that they were intentionally forgotten, written over by the few survivors of their evil. this figure being so ancient that they are older than Briar Valley, so ancient that Yuu has visions of a "home" that hasn't existed in thousands of years

Yuu has a strong association with death and undeath, a means into seeing the past, present and future, and into connecting with other worlds. their home, their history, their ruler was forgotten, written over because it was so bad it couldn't be associated with anything but death and destruction

basically, what if Yuu wasn't Alice.

what if Yuu was The Horned King?

1 https://www.tumblr.com/valy-gc/746674187452792832?source=share

[fools-ramblings-and-whatnot]

"I don't know... but I feel a lot of different things when I look at your face."

With Malleus Please!

Pairing: Malleus x Reader

Confession Prompt 8

Atop the tower of an old ruin, Malleus watched his companion of threw their arms up and feel the cool night breeze.

Standing behind you, he discreetly circled his magic around your body to ensure your safety lest the weathered balluster fell apart.

Bringing someone to the ruins of an Ancient Kingdom could barely be called romantic by human standards, that Malleus quite understood.

Lilia had suggested to him beforeto find a more romantic venue, raging from popular restaurants in town, or the best date spots the internet could provide. Malleus had thought long and well, but he found the suggestions, although helpful, disagreeble.

One should not choose a place to confess one's love based on the fleeting trends of men. For such a significant event, the best thing to do is take the other person in consideration.

You had always said you'd like to see this new world with him. Eyes always gleaming in glee as you found beauty in what others see as mundane.

His lips curled into a smile as he stepped closer to you as you, now leaning your back against the balluster, and talked about whatever caught your fancy in the area. Occasionally, you asked him about his opinions about the place's history and architecture to bring him into the conversation.

As usual, you always choose to invite yourself into his life.

Soon, he found himself drawn to you.

He didn't mean to get into your personal space, he was sure he had something rehearsed in his mind, yet the way you gazed at him fondly as he approached you got the fae touching and softly caressing your cheeks.

He was about to apologize, yet instead of swatting his hand you took it with both hands and let your cheek lay on his palm.

Malleus breath hitched, his viridescent pupils widening.How can a magicless human possibly make the the heir of Briar Valley so helpless by just one touch?

You look up to him and he could feel his inhuman heart skip a beat. "Are you cold? Should I warm your hands up?"You took his other hand and settled it on your cheek."How are you feeling?"

Malleus brushed your jaw with his thumb. "I don't know...but I feel a lot of different things when I look at your face."

Malleus removed his hand on your face and moved it to your shoulders, gently turning you to look at the vastness of the ruins.

You gasped in awe as the fields, once souless, sprouted blooms of your favorite flowers as far as the eye could see. The grave of the ancient has now turned into a garden full of life, dedicated for you.

You turn back again to look at him.

"Although it is my birthday, let me give this gift to you."He says, taking your hand into his and putting a soft kiss on your knuckles."In commeration of our friendship..."

He took a knee, and it was your turn to feel the wind knocked out of you. "And if it pleases you, perhaps it could be where we start something new." He laid his forehead on the back of your palm for a moment, then he looked up, his lips displaying a loving smile,his green orbs reflected no one else but you" Shall we let the past bear witness to our future, my dearest Y/N?"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unparadiz’d

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, blowjob, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Unparadiz’d - brought from joy to miserie. (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

This is the last of pajama party drabbles. Let me know if you want me to do anything else like this.

“Actually, you’re both wrong. Gladiators were more often highly-trained. In fact, many were soldiers, but they most certainly weren’t slaves,” you intone. 

You can’t help a smile. After more than an hour of chatter over things you didn’t know or care about, the conversation finally sways in your direction. History. That’s your ish. The Roman Empire especially. 

“And where did you get that?” Ransom scoffs.  

Charles rubs your back encouragingly. He hates how you tend to fade into the background. He needs someone who can stand at his side, not behind him. 

“Well, I studied history. Masters, um, but you know, I am always open to learning new things. So, perhaps you might have proof otherwise.” 

Ransom scowls. He hasn’t offered much more than that for most of the night. You don’t take it personally. He isn’t much better with the table full of people he calls friends. As the newcomer, you’ll happily just let it slide off your back. 

“I don’t care that much,” he snorts. “Whatever. Charles, what about that Corvette? Sounds like a broke down train pulling up.” 

“It’s antique. A classic. You would know if you had any sense of taste.” Charles rebuffs smoothly. “Safia, you’ll have to recommend me your chef. Mine can’t make ravioli for shit.” 

You smile prettily and keep your fingers pinched around the stem of your glass. Charles’ friends are the society type. Your own are few and far between and the most you did was go out for coffee or a movie. These people are intellectuals and you can’t help but feel like a pretender. 

“Stealing from me again, eh, Charles,” Safia drawls. “Mm, I might. If you’re a good boy.” 

Safia is gorgeous. Thick black brows, thicker hair, full lips. You can’t tell if she’s flirting or you’re just intimidated. 

“So,” Kimora turns to you pointedly, “you studied history. How cute. What did you study exactly?” 

“Hmph, Marie Antoinette and the like, I’m sure,” Ransom mutters. 

“Um, ancient history, actually,” you speak up. “Egypt, Greece, and Roman. But I was able to explore a bit more in my undergrad.” 

Ransom clucks and drains his glass of whiskey. Your eyes meet his stormy ones. You’re not sure if his irritation is meant for you or if it’s more a general disdain. Every time you speak only deepens his agitation. You might be better staying quiet. You can bear the lecture from Charles after, but the hatred in that man’s eyes pierces like a knife. 

“Well, if you’re looking for any writers on the subject,” Charles suggests, “I give her a five-star review.” 

“No one wants to read about dead people,” Ransom snips. 

You sip from your glass and lower your gaze to the table. You’re embarrassed. There’s really no particular reason to be but the way he talks scalds you with shame. Everything you do is wrong in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, Hugh, some of them are a lot more interesting than you,” Charles retorts. 

“Fuck off,” Ransom snarls. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Oh, my bad. At least Hugh doesn’t sound like it belongs on a dog,” Charles chuckles. 

Ransom slams his hand down, rattling his plate and cutlery, “you’re such a fucking smart ass, Charlie.” 

“Oh, behave,” Safia reprimands, “sit down.” 

“Piss off, mommy dearest,” Ransom spins and stomps out. “Bunch of snobs.” 

As he storms off, Charles laughs louder and Safia tuts and shakes her head at him. Bronson reaches over to take an untouched quiche from Ransom’s plate. “More for us.” 

You stare after the angry man. Something must be wrong. It can’t just be the dinner. It’s been rather pleasant up to that point. 

“Well, we’ve almost finished the bottle,” Charles reaches for the wine. “You’ve got a spare bed?” 

“You know I do, Charles,” Safia affirms. “I had the guest rooms made up. I know you all too well.” 

“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t kept pace,” Kimora tosses back with a smirk. “Charles, save some for me.” She puts her glass out and you glance down at your own. You still haven’t even finished your first. 

The night wears on as you once more get lost amidst the garble. You put a word in or two but someone else always talks a bit louder or you find yourself without much to say. Finally, the plates are cleared and you disburse to find a room to sleep in. 

You didn’t expect to stay the night, but Charles seems to have anticipated it. He pulls a black nightie from his leather bag and fans it out on the bed. You stare at the dainty fabric. 

“Oh, wonderful.” 

You wonder why he didn’t mention the possibility. It hardly matters. Charles knows best. 

You change into the night gown. It’s tight and a bit short. You fix the straps as they dig into your shoulders. 

“I don’t understand, it’s your size,” he drawls and belches into his hand, “mm, those prawns aren’t settling.” 

“Are you okay? Should I get you some water?” You offer. 

He waves you off and grumbles as he stomps around the bed. You watch him go then slowly look down at the nightie. Your chest threatens to fall out of the bodice. 

You sit and wait and listen. The tap runs then shuts off. Charles’ wretch follows and his vomit hits the water loudly. You cringe and get up. You go to the bathroom door and nudge it open, “Charles, can I--” 

“Get the fuck out!” He barks and you obey. 

You back up to the bed and sit. You won’t be able to sleep. He’s sick and you just want to make it better. Well, it’s good he gets it out. You probably wouldn’t want someone hovering over you in the same situation. 

You wait for Charles. Twenty minutes before you get up and knock on the bathroom door. He doesn’t answer but as you try the handle, you find it locked. He’ll come out when he’s ready. 

You keep the lamp on and move to the top of the bed. You fold the blanket back and recline, but don’t cover yourself. You turn onto your side and close your eyes.  

As you keep your ears perked for Charles’, you slowly drift down. After the long night and stress of meeting new people, you’re exhausted. You cross your arms and sink into the mattress. Reality is vague on the other side of your eyelids as sleep creeps up your body. 

You lurch away as a door clicks. You roll onto your back and look toward the bathroom. The door is still closed. You blink as a shadow emerges from behind the other. The door to the hallway. 

You lay in disbelief, paralysed in surprise. It’s Ransom. He wears only a pair of silk boxers. He must have gone into the wrong room. 

“Um, hi?” You sit up, “I think--” 

He puts his fingers to his lips and you snap your mouth shut. Confused. Maybe he needs to talk to Charles. 

“Charles is just--” 

He wiggles his finger then points it as you. He comes up to the foot of the bed. He tilts his head as his eyes scour over your body. He smirks. 

“You know about gladiators, huh? Know everything, don’t you?” He hisses. 

“Erm, no, I... no,” you gulp. “I didn’t say that.” 

“But you had to say something,” he snorts. 

“No, I was only... talking,” you tense and bend your legs up protectively. “I’m just about to go to sleep. I can let Charles know--” 

“You can shut the fuck up,” he puts his knee on the bed and reaches for you. He snakes your ankle and pulls your leg straight. You squeal as he hauls you down the bed. “Make another noise and I’ll go find Charles and bash his head into the fucking toilet.” 

“Please,” you wisp. 

“I fucking mean it,” he wrestles your legs down as you try to kick. He crawls over your body to straddle you. You claw at his forearms and wriggle helplessly. “You think you fucking know it all, well, I’m about to teach you the most important fucking lesson.” 

He closes his hands around your throat and you cough. His thumb presses down sharply and you whimper. He shakes you until you’re quiet. Your eyes wet and you try to bat away the fuzzy sheen. 

“You don’t fuck around with me,” he growls as he glares down at you. “I don’t care if you’re fucking that cockwad, you speak to me with respect.” 

You wheeze and slap your hand on the bed. You didn’t mean to. You were just trying to fit in. Why is he so mad? 

“So let’s start easy. Don’t make a fucking sound, do you got me?” 

You nod frantically against his grip as your head pulses from the lack of air. He grins and slowly releases you. He brushes his hands along your shoulders and yanks down the straps of your dress. Your tits pop out and you close your eyes in shame. 

“Look at these things,” he gropes your chest greedily. “Guess that makes up for that mouth.” You sniffle and he pinches your nipples meanly, “look at me, you bitch.” 

Your eyes snap open and round, tears bobbling along the brims. He snickers and flicks his finger up your throat. He pokes at your mouth and toys with your lower lip. 

“I know exactly how to train that mouth of yours. Surprised Charlie hasn’t already,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, forcing deep until his knuckles press against your teeth and you gag. 

He rips his hand away and raises himself on his knees. You squeak as he rolls down his boxers and springs free. His dick bobs as he climbs over you and you shake your head and snivel. 

He grabs his dick and your head. He wrenches you up by your hair, straining your neck as he presses his tip to your lips. You clamp your mouth shut and whimper. 

“Open the fuck up or I’ll break your teeth. Don’t think I’m fucking lying. I’m here, aren’t I?” 

You tremble and give in. Your eyes flow over and blur with the wash of tears. It’s not just the violation, it’s that Charles is right on the other side of that wall. And you’re just letting this happen. 

Ransom rams into your mouth. He shows no mercy as he thrusts down and invades your throat. His hand fists in your hair as his other trails back to your throat. He rubs there as he pushes down to his limit. As he thrusts, he feels himself from the outside, growling and grunting as you gurgle. 

“Yeah, fuck,” He ruts harder and harder. Saliva pastes across your cheeks and your throat sears from his relentless fucking. “That mouth isn’t so fucking bad. Fuck. And those tits. You fucking play with those tits.” 

He straddles just above your chest. You bring your hands up and cup your tits in your hands. You babble and squeeze, squirming as he pumps into your mouth. 

“Like that. Huh? Listen to you. Sounds like he don’t fuck you good enough. He doesn’t punish this mouth how it should be,” he snarls and puffs as you feel the tension cord through him, “oh, yeah... yeah... yeah...” 

His breath rattles and he quakes. He yanks your head up so your mouth is right against his pelvis. He rocks slightly, suffocating you, and suddenly, twitches. You feel him explode in your throat. His cums flood you, rising into your mouth and coming out your nose as you choke and hack. 

You quake and cough as he pulls out of you, inch by inch. Your body lurches as you barely hold back a swell of nausea. He raises himself over you, his dick softening slowly as it shines with spit and semen. He groans and cradles his balls. 

“Actually, you aren't entirely useless.” He taunts. 

[mosaickiwi]

(sorry for mistakes, English is not my native language) Hello, please forgive me if my request sounds stupid, but can I ask for a fic about a beach day with Angel, who spent a long time in a closed hospital far from REDACTED and is now almost glued to him, not stopping to hug and caress even for 10 minutes (I ended up in a closed hospital and still can’t go outside or meet anyone myeh(￣へ￣)). Please forgive me>_<

Hii I hope you're getting better and/or doing okay! And ofc take your time recuperating if so 💖💖

This is longer than usual since a little part of your other request is mixed in!! 🤫 ⚠ DAY 4 SPOILERS if you squint perhaps?? Go play that first just in case.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Beach "Date"

The afternoon sun was beating down on the beach, but you didn't mind it at all. You were cool and content to relax under a wide umbrella. And of course, your dark haired hacker sat with you—as if he could ever leave your side. Their arms were secure around your form to keep you close. Both of you were happy to finally be reunited, far too absorbed in your own little world.

“If I have… another second of this—” you could barely hear Teo mutter something. The waves crashing on the shore were too loud to make out whatever he was saying clearly.

“Mate, switch sides with me already,” Leon sighed.

You happened to bump into the guys on a secluded area of the shore, and your oldest friend was keen on offering an impromptu hangout. He knew you didn’t feel well enough to do too much physically yet, so was content just to see your face. 

Teo and Leon were bouncing a volleyball back and forth with idle chatter—Jae occasionally chimed in from where Maple had buried his legs in the sand—while you watched from the sidelines. Unfortunately for Teo, he had a perfect view of you and [REDACTED] cuddling on a beach towel. 

Completely unaware of your annoyed audience, you laughed as your partner placed a slightly too loud kiss on your cheek. 

“‘Missed you a lot, Angel.” His hair tickled as he pressed his lips again and again to any patch of your bare skin.

You had to roll your eyes at his over the top affections. “Really? I think I missed you way more,” you teased him back. Turning in their embrace, you decided to smother them with a few chaste pecks of your own.

Their cool hands gently pulled you even closer, until you were perched in their lap with no chance of escape. He whispered something that had you on the verge of embarrassment, and you lightly smacked his chest in response. You moved to stand up. 

"We'll be back in a bit," you said as you led your partner away by the hand.

"Sure, darl'. Be careful," Leon shouted in response, more concentrated on the ball sailing towards him. Instead of sending it back, he caught it with a surprised grunt and frowned in Teo's direction.

The taller man mumbled something else to your childhood friend as you left.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Fifteen minutes later, after wading in shallow waters to splash a certain someone for his comments, you made your way back to shore to find all three of the guys playing, Maple running between them as the ball flew overhead.

[REDACTED] hurriedly bundled you up in a towel without a moment of concern for himself. His wet hair dripped over their shoulders and chest as he sat back down under the umbrella. Their bangs were practically glued over their eyes like a curtain.

You didn't even wait for him to settle in before claiming your place in his lap again. Despite their appearance—he may as well have been dunked in a tank from how much you splashed him—it felt cozy in his arms with the fluffy towel. He looked a little silly.

"You're like a wet cat," you hummed.

"Yeah? Whose fault is that?" Before you could answer, he shook his head, flinging droplets on you as you playfully yelled in surprise. Their scarred hand brushed through the black mop of their hair to push it out of his eyes. 

Your amused frown did nothing to deter him from leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. Well aware of the way his fingers drew familiar, soothing circles on your thigh, you kissed the corner of his mouth, then his lips for a long moment. Your cheeks felt warm from the adoring smile he held once you pulled back.

“Woah!” Jae’s sudden yell forced you to turn away, though you still clung to the man holding you. A ball and a golden yellow blur skidded past, kicking up sand right beside your umbrella.

The hacker quickly shielded you, though the towel kept most of it from even touching your skin. He dusted off what little sand was stuck to your still wet legs then looked up, eyes narrowing at whoever caused the commotion.

Teo stared back with an oddly smug expression while Jae ran after Maple. “Sorry, I can’t see much with the sun directly in front of me. My aim is pretty shit, too.”

“So’s your temper,” [REDACTED] muttered under their breath.

“What was that, buttercup?” Teo asked sarcastically. He rolled a shoulder and you realized all too late that he’d spiked the ball near you on purpose. You couldn't place why, exactly. It wasn't as if either of them had exchanged a word since you'd arrived.

“Y'got sand in your ears? I'll be glad t’come over there and say it again,” [REDACTED] almost stood up as they spoke, but holding onto you was more important to them. Teo still walked closer.

Leon got between them as fast as he could. “Hey, easy! No one got hurt, right?” he almost shouted. His gaze shifted between them before landing on you. “You okay, darl’? …Ren?”

“I'm fine,” you piped up, still surprised. It was a little shocking to hear your childhood friend voice concern for Ren as well. None of them had really warmed up to your partner yet.

You had to nudge him as a reminder to play nice.

“Great,” [REDACTED] answered, not even bothering to spare either of them a second glance. You put a hand on his back for good measure, and you could feel the tension in him already melting away from your touch.

Jae finally came back with Maple in tow, the ball in his hands and a large piece of driftwood in the retriever’s mouth as she pranced along. He broke the tension with ease. “Okayyy!! Maple kicked a lot of sand in my mouth digging up that stick. Sooo a quick break for drinks?”

The displeasure in Teo’s face didn't fade, but he still let the younger man drag him away to the pier. You could tell from the way Teo kicked up even more sand with each step that they’d take longer than a ‘quick break.’ 

Leon gave you an awkward, half-hearted smile in apology before jogging after the other two.

Once they were far enough away, you made a face at [REDACTED] as he played innocent with a shrug. There was no doubt in your mind now that he'd been trying to push Teo’s buttons. It was pointless to mention. 

He'd fawn all over you whether there was anyone around or not. He might’ve been a tiny bit less obnoxious about it, though.

You chose to take advantage of your newfound time alone and wrapped your arms around their neck. His blue eyes drew towards your friends far off on the pier for a moment, but you paid it no mind. There was a smirk on his lips just before he cupped your cheeks for another blatant display of affection.

[raven-dor]

Hi, could you write something with Charlie Weasley x reader, where reader is friends with the twins and they invite her to the burrow where she meets Charlie, and she's really smart and knows a lot about dragons and that's how her and Charlie start to bond.

Also could reader maybe be a Slytherin, I'm a Slytherin so I just think reader would be too, but the house can be unspecified or something else if you want.

lost without you

in which charlie weasley meets the love of his life

PAIRING: charlie weasley x slytherin!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, sneaking around, falling out, love confessions, molly weasley (sorry...)

AN: i love this request so much... thank you for asking!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

She was exhausted, that was for sure. Spending all night- she blushed. She shouldn’t have done that, but he was so kind and strong. Mysterious but gentle. He was brilliant; she could tell by the look in his eyes. 

She giggled as he kissed down her neck, squirming from his touch. He scoffed, no malice behind it. “Love, stop moving…” 

She blushed wildly, hiding her face behind her hands. “I never do this…” 

He pulled himself back to her level, prying her hands away. “There you are.” He whispered. “Don’t hide from me, please.” 

“I’m embarrassed.” She whispered back. “I never-” 

“Never do this.” He smirked, laying beside her and staring at her intensely. “You’ve said.” 

She moved herself closer, tracing shapes on his chest. “What do you do for work?”

He laughed, and she thought to herself he had a rather jolly laugh. “Do you really want to know?” 

She nodded, her eyes begging to shut. His hold was comforting despite the fact that she had known him for approximately two hours. “You look like you have a…” She yawned. “An interesting job.” 

He smiled, leaning his head on hers. “I work in…” 

She had fallen asleep before she had heard where.

Y/N blushed thinking about it. There she was, sleeping in a stranger's arms. 

Then again, it hadn’t felt like that. It felt like she had known him for years. She shook her head, trying to stop herself from daydreaming. George laughed, nudging her ever so softly. “Wake up, Dolly Daydream.” 

She rolled her eyes, shoving him away from her. “I am awake, thank you very much.” 

Fred smirked. “You have that look on your face.” 

“What look?” She glared. “I don’t have a look.” 

He nodded. “Yes, you do.” He laughed. “It's that look when you can't stop thinking about someone.” 

George wiggled his eyebrows. "A secret admirer, perhaps?"

She turned beat red, walking ahead of them to escape the interrogation. 

The twins had a tradition, one they had kept up since they’d gotten into Hogwarts. Every Sunday during the summer, their best friend would come to the Burrow for dinner. There had never been a Sunday she had missed (besides the brief time she was on the run from Voldemort with Ron, Hermione, and Harry). 

And in all that time, Y/N could proudly say she had met every one of their siblings. Except Charlie. According to Mrs. Weasley (who Y/N knew was prone to dramatics) he absolutely hated his family and chose the furthest possible job to worry her. 

Y/N was sure it was because he actually wanted to go to Romania. All her children were good people, and she doubted Charlie stressed his mother out on purpose. 

They had been walking into the Burrow when a shriek rang out from inside the home. Gripping their wands, they ran in ready to fight, when they saw that the shriek had come from Mrs. Weasley, who was sobbing rather dramatically. 

They lowered their wands, peering further into the house to see a young man, not much younger than Bill, being hugged tightly by Ginny. Fred and George left their best friend's side instantly, hugging the man tightly.

“Charlie!” 

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes widening instantly when he turned around. 

What was he- This was the infamous Charlie Weasley. Seeker, Head Boy, and expert Dragonoligist. His grin was bright, and she loved the way his freckles accentuated his cheeks. He locked eyes with her, a twinkle appearing in them. He extended his hand, his voice light and full of humor. “You must be Y/N.” 

She nodded, ignoring the fact that her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She could never tell George and Fred. “That’s me.” 

He smiled, shaking her hand lightly. “I’m Charlie.” 

“I know.” Her eyes widened, and she stumbled over her words, backtracking. “I meant that- Fred and George- I’ve met all of your siblings, so I just thought-” 

He laughed, interrupting her. “It’s alright.” 

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat. “Shall we eat? I’m famished.” 

Y/N nodded, walking away from Charlie abruptly. George linked arms with his friend, pulling a face when she looked up at him. She rolled her eyes, shoving him away and sitting down. 

Molly smiled at her second eldest son, loading food onto his plate. “You look as if you’ve been starved, Charlie.” 

He glared, taking the food without complaint. “I’ve gained weight since you last saw me, Mum.” 

“What have they been feeding you in Romania?” 

“The same thing you’re giving me now, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “I’m all muscle now.” 

Fred shoved him, hissing. “What are you doing?” 

Y/N’s cheeks were still red, and she looked away. Was he trying to fluster her; because he was succeeding. Charlie kept pestering her with small talk, much to her and her blushing nature’s dismay.

“What house were you then?” 

“Slytherin.” She spoke through her food. Placing a hand over her mouth, she said it once more. “I was in Slytherin.” 

His eyebrows rose, but he made no movement to disparage her house. “Makes sense that the twins were drawn to you.” He smirked. “They’ve always been rather cunning.” 

Molly sighed. “You are one of the only Slytherins I’ve been able to stand talking to.” She smiled. “Which is quite the feat.” 

Y/N smiled shyly, not liking all the attention that was currently on her. Normally, she faded into the background, only providing (what she thought) were witty remarks when necessary. And now, here he was, pulling her out of her shell. It was some kind of cruel joke, she decided, that they had met the way they had.

Loud knocks rang through her apartment, and she groaned, shoving her face into her pillow. “One moment!” 

The knocks persisted, and she threw the covers off of her body, racing towards the door, wand in hand. “I said one-” She tilted her head, looking through the peephole to see Charlie. Now suddenly highly self-conscious about her appearance, she cast a beauty spell, smoothing out her hair before opening the door. “Hiya.” 

He nodded. “May I come in?” 

She crossed her arms. “Why?” 

He smirked, stepping closer. “Is it so shocking that I wanted to see you?” 

She blushed, stepping aside so he could enter. Watching suspiciously as he looked around at her flat, she shut the door. “You wanted to see me? That’s it?” 

He nodded, picking up a photo album. “What’s in here I wonder?” 

Y/N laughed, reaching out to steal it from his hold. “Charlie-” 

“Indulge me.” He sat down, patting the cushion beside him. “Tell me about them.” 

She sat beside him, peering over her shoulder and explaining each photo he asked about. “That’s me and the twins in fifth year. I think that was two days after they’d left the hospital wing.” 

Charlie laughed. “When they tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament?” 

She nodded, laughing with him. “Exactly. And that-” She pointed to the next photo. “Is me and George at the Yule Ball.” 

He tensed. “You and George-” 

She shook her head quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “We’re just friends, trust me. Ange would have my head.” 

He smiled. “Ah. Well…” He looked back at the book, smirking at the baby photo. “What’s this-” 

She snatched the book from his hands, clutching it to her chest. “Absolutely not.” 

Charlie had been coming over practically every day since his first impromptu visit. During those visits, they’d discovered that they both had a mutual love of dragons and that her knowledge of dragons rivaled his, a professional dragonkeeper. 

(She never let him forget it.) 

She sat at her bar as Charlie cooked them a Romanian dish he had made ‘one hundred times before.’ Y/N trusted his cooking, after all his mother was Molly Weasley. She then reasoned with herself that his brothers were also Fred and George, who couldn’t cook to save their lives. He moved around her kitchen like he’d lived there for ages, and she tried not to drool as she watched his muscular frame. 

He cleared his throat, laughing. “Williams? You alright?” 

She sat up, realizing she had started daydreaming. Nodding quickly, she smiled. “Great.” 

He sat his spoon down, walking over to her until they were right by each other. “Are you sure? You seemed…” He whispered, staring at her lips. “Distracted.” 

She laughed, walking away. Salazar, if he looked at her like that again, she didn’t know if she could resist- “No, I-” A hand grabbed her wrist, and she gasped. Her skin felt like it was on fire. “Charlie.”

He stood behind her, his breath fanning over her neck. “Tell me you haven’t thought about that night, and I’ll stop. I swear to you.” 

“Charlie, we can’t…” 

“Don’t.” He pulled her close. “Have you thought about that night, yes or no?” 

“Yes.” She nodded, turning around to face him. “Every night.”

He smirked, leaning down. “Every night huh?” 

She nodded once more. “Charlie, stop teasing. It’s-” 

He slammed his lips against hers, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist. “Godric, you’re going to be the ruin of me.” 

That had been months ago. She had felt horrible, keeping it a secret from the twins, Ron, and Salazar, Ginny too. She hadn’t told anyone, which could have been why she felt so wracked with guilt. It was odd, she told herself, to be sleeping with her best friend’s older brother. 

But when Charlie held her in his arms, she forgot all about her guilt. Her heart felt full, and she reasoned with herself that Fred and George would be happy for her if she told them. Happy that she finally found someone that cared about her as much as she-

“Love?” Charlie's voice rang through the door. “Can I come in?” 

She yelled back, casting a beauty spell over herself. “It’s open!” Walking out of her bedroom, she smiled shyly at the ginger man, holding hoards of groceries in his arms. He sat them down on the counter, taking each item out and putting them away.

“How was work?” 

She shrugged. “Same as always I suppose. Kingsley told me if I keep it up, I could be one of the youngest team leads in history.” She laughed, helping him put the last of it away. “Except Harry, of course.” 

Charlie nodded. “He’s quite the talented wizard.” Grabbing the vegetables for their salad, he began rinsing them off in the sink. She walked over, wrapping her arms around his torso. He hummed, smiling to himself. “Do you think we should-” She closed her eyes, taking in his rich scent of teakwood and tobacco. “Do you think we should tell my family about us?” 

Her eyes shot open, and she pulled away from him like he was scolding hot. “What?” 

His back tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “Mum’s been asking to meet the girl who’s been taking up all my time.” 

“Well, what did you say?” She walked toward her fridge, grabbing a butterbeer. 

“I said I’d have to ask her.” He turned around, watching anxiously as she refused to make eye contact. “So, what do you say?” 

“Charlie…” 

His voice was small. “Are you- are you embarrassed?” 

“No it’s not…” She sighed. “It’s not that, Charlie. I just-” 

“I’m sorry I brought it up.” He interrupted. “Let’s just go back to making dinner.” 

She nodded, not wanting to break their peace. But as the night went on, she realized their peace had been broken as soon as she said she hadn’t wanted to tell everyone. The air was tense as they ate, the once warm air turned freezing from the distance between them. She cleared her throat, setting down her fork. “I’ve been meaning to bring this up to you.” 

His face looked sullen, but he sat his fork down as well, staring into her eyes. Her heart fluttered, Salazar, he was beautiful. “Yes?” 

“I-” She gulped. “I think we should stop seeing each other.” 

He nodded calmly. “Is there someone else?” 

She shook her head adamantly. “Merlin, no! I just… I think it’s odd. Don’t you?” 

He tilted his head. “What do you think is odd about this?”

“That you and I-” She stuttered. “I’m their best friend.” 

He nodded. “You are.” 

“It feels wrong, lying to them.” 

“Well,” His voice held a frustration she had never heard before. “That is why we'd tell them.” 

“Charlie…” She was getting tired. “It’s not fair to you; me not wanting to tell them. I’m just-” 

“What?” He laughed hurmourlessly. “What are you?”

“You could be out there, finding someone who you could end up…” She blushed. “You know.” 

He stood up, grabbing his things. “I thought that was you.” His eyes looked heartbroken, and she honestly didn’t know why she was doing this to them. Everything was fine, why- “Because you are.” He smiled lightly. “You are that for me.” 

Her eyes started tearing up. “I’m sorry.” 

He shook his head. “It’s alright.” Opening the door, he whispered over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around then.” 

She’d been a mess for weeks. She’d practically shunned everyone from her life, only going to work because she needed money to live. Peeling off her dress robes, a knock echoed through her flat. Odd, she hadn’t had any planned visitors. “One moment.” 

The knocks were never ending, and she rolled her eyes, stalking towards the door. “I said-” The twins stood in front of her. “Oh.” She stiffened. “Hi.” 

They scoffed, George breaking the tension. “You look like a right mess, Williams.” 

Fred nudged him, murmuring. “George…” He smiled at the girl standing in front of them. “You alright love?” 

Her eyes widened. The last time she’d been called love… It was like she couldn’t forget him. She nodded, ushering them in. “Sit, sit.” 

They came in, taking in their surroundings. Fred cleared his throat. “What have you been up to?” 

“Nothing much.” She forced herself to smile. “How’s the shop?” 

George squinted. “We haven’t seen you for three weeks, and you’re asking how the shop is?” He stood closer to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What happened, love?” 

“I-” Her throat felt as if it was closing. “Nothing. I swear.” 

He shook his head. “Fine, you don’t need to tell us.” He sat down on the couch, Fred following after him. “Mum’s been asking why you haven’t come to dinner lately.” 

She winced. How would she get out of this?

Answer: she wouldn’t. 

Because moments after, they were flooing to the Burrow, Mrs.Weasley wrapping her arms around her. “Where have you been?” 

She blushed, hugging the older witch back. “Work was busy.” She winced as Mrs.Weasley’s unconvinced stare pierced her soul. “I’m sorry.” 

Mrs. Weasley laughed, ushering her inside. “No apologies necessary. Have you been eating? You look frail, dear.” 

“I-” Charlie was in the kitchen, and upon hearing his mother’s voice, turned around. She felt like she could melt. “Weasley.” 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Williams.” 

Mrs. Weasley interrupted. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room dear. I’ll add an extra plate to the table.” 

She nodded. “Thank you Mrs.Weasley.” Scurrying past Charlie, she plopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. 

“You’re alive.” A woman’s voice broke through the silence. She turned her head over, smiling at the new presence.

“Hey Gin.” She stood up, hugging her tightly. “I missed you.” 

Ginny hummed. “I missed you too.” Pulling out of the hug, she grabbed her friend's hands in hers. “Tell me what happened between you and Charlie.” 

Her eyes practically fell out of her sockets. “What are you-” 

Ginny glared. “Don’t play dumb with me. He’s been a whiny mess lately, that can’t be coincidence.” 

“There could be a million reasons for why he's whining. You don’t-” Ginny sat down on the couch, pulling her along.

“What did he do?” Ginny whispered. “I’m very skilled at the Bat Bogey Hex.” 

She laughed. “I know you are. Trust me, it wasn’t his fault. I-” She sighed, leaning against the back of the couch. “I thought you’d be upset at me, if you knew I was seeing your brother. Besides, Charlie is sweet, I’m not the right fit for him.” 

A deep voice echoed through the room. “Don’t you think that’s for me to decide?” Ginny’s eyes widened, and Y/N stared back, begging her not to leave. “Could you give us a moment, Gin?” 

She held on to Ginny’s hands as tightly as she could, but Ginny pulled away, murmuring sorry as she raced out of the room, no doubt telling her boyfriend and entire family. So much for secrecy. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, waving casually. “Charlie.” 

“You’re not the right fit?” He scoffed, walking close enough so that he could whisper and only she would hear. “You’re not the right fit, really?” 

“You know what I meant.” 

“I don’t really.” He grabbed her hands in his. “You are what I’ve-” He took a deep breath, most likely gathering the courage to tell her. “You are what I’ve always wanted. What I’ve always dreamt of.” 

She blushed. “Don’t patronize me…” 

“Love…” He tilted his head. “You are everything to me, and it kills me to be apart from you. Really.” 

“I don’t know how the twins would react-” 

“Who cares!” He yelled, quickly remembering he was inside and lowering his voice. “Who cares? I love you and I-” Charlie’s golden eyes widened, and he stuttered. “I mean-” His smile was sure, brighter even. “I love you, and if you love me, then we can make it. Through anything, including my brother’s disapproval.” Pulling her as close as he physically could, he whispered. “I don’t think I can be that separated from you ever again. It was torture, Williams.” He leaned down, their foreheads leaning against each other. “Utter torture.” 

“I love you too-” He pulled her lips to his, kissing her as deep as his body would allow him. She squeaked, melting in his touch. “Charlie, wait just a moment.” He groaned, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I know you could do perfectly fine with your brother’s disapproval, but they’re my best friends. I can’t just… I can’t lose them.” 

He whispered into the crook of her neck, chills running down her spine. “Even if that meant losing me?” 

She kissed his temple, humming. “I’m sorry.” Forcing herself to pull away, she ignored the chills that fell down her spine when Charlie grabbed her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

"I admire it, how fiercly loyal you are to my brothers." He laughed. "Very Gryffindor of you, I must say."

She scoffed, her eyes tearing up ever so slightly. "What can I say? Weasleys are worth protecting."  

The table was tense, Y/N avoiding every attempt Charlie made at eye contact. The twins were suspiciously watching the pair, wondering what exactly was going on. Ginny had surprisingly not told everyone, contrary to Y/N’s belief. Mrs. Weasley tried to make conversation, but she only made the situation worse. “So Charlie, whatever happened to that girl of yours? The one you were sneaking off to see.” 

Y/N looked up from her plate, staring at Charlie. He sighed, taking a sip of water. “She’s busy Mum.” 

Mrs.Weasley nodded, turning her attention to Y/N. “And you dear? How has work been? I hope Kinglsey isn’t giving you too hard of a time.” 

“Work’s been fantastic, thank you Mrs.Weasley. I actually…” She took a deep breath, grinning from ear to ear. “I just got promoted to team lead.” 

The table erupted into well wishes and congratulations. Mrs.Weasley smiled. “That is wonderful dear. You must be the youngest yet.” 

She nodded, giving a pointed look to Harry. “Besides this one, yes.” 

Charlie cleared his throat. “Congratulations, Williams.” 

The table quieted, and Y/N smiled gratefully, daring to make eye contact with him. “Thank you.” 

Ginny coughed, obviously trying to get her attention, but Y/N couldn’t be bothered to break eye contact with him. His eyes were dangerous, she’d determined, and there was a spark in them that was not there earlier. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she shook her head slightly. 

He was about to do something neither of them could take back, she knew it. 

She also couldn’t find it in her to care.

Charlie stood, his seat scrapping against the floor. His parents’s eyebrows furrowed. Mr.Weasley spoke first. “Are you alright son?” 

Charlie nodded, still looking at Y/N. “I’m perfect. I-” He smiled. “I have something to say.” 

Mrs. Weasley smiled knowingly. “Spit it out dear.” 

Y/N held her breath, nodding encouragingly. A second wind overtook him, and he stood strong. “I’m in love-” 

Mrs. Weasley grinned. “That’s wonderful dear!” 

Fred and George teased. “Lucky girl, that one.” 

Y/N tried to control her blush. Charlie smiled. “I’m in love with Williams.” 

She looked around the table, trying to gage reactions based off their expressions. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked positively shocked, and Fred and George… Her eyes widened. They didn’t look shocked in the slightest. Charlie continued. “I don’t want to upset you two, but we-” 

George laughed. “Why would we be upset?” 

Fred nodded. “We’ve known for months.” 

Mrs. Weasley scoffed. “Months? Charlie Weasley, you kept this sweet girl a secret-” 

“That’s actually my fault Mrs.Weasley.” Y/N interjected. “I- I didn’t want to upset the twins.” They pulled faces, rolling their eyes. “Why would we be upset? If anything, we’d be upset at Charlie for corrupting sweet little Y/N/N.” 

Y/N shoved them. “Shut it, both of you.” 

Charlie smiled, sitting back down. “Well I guess that’s settled then.” Y/N smiled back, mouthing the words he so longed to hear. ‘I love you.’ 

Mrs. Weasley sighed, picking at food. “Shall I be expecting more grandchildren anytime soon?” 

Y/N choked on her drink, clutching her chest. Charlie’s eyes widened, cheeks bright red. “Mum!” 

“I’m only asking.” Mrs. Weasley held her hands up in surrender. “Victorie has been so lonely.” 

Charlie tilted his head. “We’re not even married yet, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “But that can be arranged.” 

It was Y/N’s turn to scoff. “Charlie Weasley, absolutely not.” 

He stuck his lower lip out, pouting. “What-” 

“Ask me in a year, not before then or after.” She nodded resolutely, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice, ignoring the looks from her friends. 

Charlie nodded, looking much too happy. “Yes ma’am.”

taglist: @beebeechaos

[sflow-er]

Assorted Heartstopper season 3 thoughts (spoilers!)

Charlie's mental health issues were handled really, really well and Joe Locke acted his heart out. Perhaps the recovery could've been shown in a little more detail, but the ep4 structure was a great solution for a show of this length. I also liked how they portrayed the impact on his loved ones (especially the toll on Nick and Tori).

As much as I missed Nick's mum throughout the season, making his aunt a psychiatrist and letting her advise him about Charlie was an excellent choice! It actually felt more realistic than if it had been Sarah.

So pleased to see more Tori this season, and the rewrite of her and Michael's first meeting was cute! I do wish they had broken away from the comics timeline though, because the fast-forward to him casually hanging at their house felt very abrupt. I would've preferred a closer portrayal of her depression and them gradually getting closer this season, with their actual relationship saved for later.

Hence, I am actually glad they saved the ace reveal for S4. We saw too little of Tori and Michael's relationship or her confusion around it to relate to her aceness yet. If she had randomly come out to Charlie on the Ferris wheel, it would have just felt like lip service and a nod to the fans who knew her story from Solitaire (which is not canon in the show). I get why people feel like she was straightwashed, but there is zero chance of Alice Oseman of all people eradicating ace rep, and I genuinely feel that this was the better choice.

That being said, Michael was perfect and the casting was spot on!

As for the aspec rep we already got, Isaac's arc this season was amazingly well done! Even if his experience doesn't resonate with me on a personal level, it was relatable as hell in the show. It's also a great reminder that we are watching an ongoing show. S2 was Isaac figuring out his own identity, S3 was him living it and communicating it to others - and based on the camerawork in the scene where people wondered about Tori and Michael, S4 may be Isaac helping someone else figure out their own identity.

Another memorable thing for me was Elle's radio interview - the sheer absurdity of a trans teen being asked to respond to bad faith talking points from some adult TERF. The host both-sidesing it and unwittingly exposing her to vitriol if the interview had aired. Holy shit how appalled I was on her behalf - and how sadly realistic it felt... I hope the parents and random adults who watch this highly popular show take note.

Is it horribly middle-aged of me to say the teachers are still my favourite couple? I loved the glimpses we got of them together and the flashback to little Youssef made me tear up. More of them in the final season please and thank you!

My main criticism is that the season felt too heavily packed. There are so many characters now, and Alice and the writers want to give them all at least some kind of arc in each season. The result is that many of those arcs feel a bit rushed, and even as someone who usually fixates on side characters, I'm struggling to invest in all of them at once. Especially while the main characters and the more prominent side characters are going through very heavy stuff. So yeah, I would have preferred a tighter focus and more narrative breathing space.

All in all though, I really enjoyed this season and am looking forward to the next (presumably last) one!

[tlatollotl]

I am a descendent of the ki'che' maya, trying to reconnect to that part of my ancestry. I am also an anthropologist, so I do so in part through research of history and archeology. I was wondering if you had any recommendations of books or documentaries about Maya folklore and religion? I've read the popul vuh and I have the stories my abuelo taught me but it's hard much more.

That is unfortunately too far outside my expertise. I would suggest searching on Google Scholar and carefully reviewing what you come across. But perhaps someone else that sees this can comment and provide some recommendations.