#im going to talk to ash about all this when they get back from their vacation next week

[corvidaedream]

in deciphering Daniel Brown's inventory taken by the court in assessing his personal estate after his death in 1785, im obsessed w this local rural blacksmith & militiaman who owned so many pairs of velvet and satinet breeches at the time of his death at 63.

im picturing him just covered in ash and grime from the forge dressed like a macaroni

[angel-sweets666]

Bakugos first time getting head

AGED UP!! Katsuki bakugo x fem! Reader

warnings: smut,, jerking off, blowjob. Sort of a extension to hallway crush

AGED UP im talking like last year of UA 18 years old sort of aged up

A/N I realised people don’t really know me, so to make it easier my names angel and I go by she/her, I never really introduced myself, also this banner😍

sorry for disappearing I’m back now and I think the smut is kinda rushed sorry 😭😭😭

Katsuki never thought of loosing his virginity often, it never crossed his mind on a daily basis. He wasn’t like his idiot “friends” Denki, sero and kirishima who all had either lost their virginity or were planning on it, especially Denki when he would yap into katsukis ear about finding the perfect girl to plow into which often lead to bakugo getting up and leaving mid conversation.

but then there was you, you flicked a switch in his brain like no girl did before. Sure he had a huge crush on you like he’s never had a crush on a girl before, but he also had a lust for you. Katsuki would sit in class and stare at you from the corner of his eye while imagining bending you over his bed and stuffing you with his seed or thinking about dragging you to the bathrooms and fucking you in a stall ect, all thoughts lead to him asking aizawa to go to the bathroom because he’s got a massive boner he desperately wants to deal with.

And dealing with it would probably be the most pathetic (prettiest) thing ever. Katsuki would sit in the bathroom with his baggy pants and boxers pulled down and his hard sore cock up against the fabric of his shirt, poor boy would spit into his hand and stroke the length of it with a grumble and after a while he’d get desperate and just start fucking his fist, bucking his hips into his hand all while imagining it was you balls deep on his cock. You would be so pretty bouncing on his dick in the school toilets while he held your hips and buried his face in your tits with a grunt and if your lucky a whine.

but bakugo couldn’t just fuck you, not just randomly. You wouldn’t allow that, you have more pride than that.

So when you two started talking then started talking he was beyond happy, though he wouldn’t show it behind his usually stoic and aggressive personality.

One day you two were sitting together at the back of class, both of you bored out of your minds! Katsukis eyes wonder from the board to you.he admired how pretty you were from head to toe, his eyes lingered around your thighs… your soft pretty thighs… the blonde bit his lip before trying to distract himself.

not now not now not now.

The blonde looked back down at your thighs before looking up at your face, only to see you looking back at him “what are you looking at?” You giggled, teasing him a bit “hah? I can look at you if I wanna look at you” he grumbled and turned his attention back to the board “righttt…nice hard on by the way” you teased him again as you pulled at a lock of his ash blonde hair. Katsuki looked down to find himself beginning to get a boner “shit…” he whispered and raised his hand “oi can I go to the toilet?”

You watched katsuki get up and leave in a hurry, slamming the door shut behind him. You giggled with amusement, you’d never think you’d have that sort of reaction out of him, you two never did anything sexual as of right now, you didn’t think he had a interest in it. But from that moment you realised maybe he did and just didn’t wanna tell you. You gave it a couple minutes before raising your hand too

“Mr. Aizawa, can I go to the toilet? Lady problems,” you said with a grin, knowing full well he suspected what you were really up to. The exhausted man barely glanced up from his desk, his eyes half-lidded with fatigue. “I don’t care…” he muttered, waving you off dismissively.

You walked down the hallway, the silence broken only by the rhythmic clicking of your shoes against the polished floor. As you neared the boys' toilets, you paused and knocked lightly on the wall before calling out, “Katsuki? You in here?” . After a brief silence, you heard a response. “Y-yeah! I’m… ah- I’m okay. Piss off!” Katsuki shouted back, his voice strained, you could hear slight panting. “Am I interrupting something?” You cooed, trying to tease him “hmmph.., yes! Go away!” He again yelled out “oooookayyy…”

you stood by the door as if you knew what was gonna happen

“you still there?” He grumbled out to you “yep” you called back out “you were jerking off huh?” You giggled “shut the fuck up!” “It’s alright it’s normal!” he mumbled in response. After a while in silence you decided to tease him more “so did you cum?” “What the fuck?” You laughed in response, riskily walking into the boys bathroom. “Do you want some help..?” You asked him, the silence was loud.

and that’s how you found yourself on your knees infront of him in the stall while he pushed your head down on his dick “fuck.. that feels good…” he grumbled and pushed you felt the tip of his dick slide deeper down into your throat, you gagged a little due to his huge size. Bakugo felt a bit panicked as it was his first time even getting his first time getting head “shit too far? Am I hurting you?” He asked as he pulled your head off his cock with a loud pop “n-nope” you said as a bit of drool fell down your chin, a dopey grin on your face,

before you knew it katsuki was pushing your head down on his hard cock again “Mmmm.. good girl…” he pet your hair as he pulled at your hair to push you up and down on him. Just as kirishima said he should. The slow pleasure began to build up into frustration, bakugo held your head up as he began to fuck into your face

“A-ah fuck! Don’t get caught don’t get caught… mmmmph…. Such a good girl..”

all while you gagged as tears built up into your eyes, he was much bigger then you thought and you could barely breath with the cock in your mouth. katsuki pushed his whole shaft into your mouth and crossed the line, painting your throat white with his hot cum.

“fuuuuuuuuuuuuckkk”

you pulled his softened dick out your mouth with a pop, swallowing the semen left in your mouth. The blonde stared down at you with short breath, panting softly. “Thank you..I’ve never done that.. before..” “it’s alright baby.. first time for everything”

“shut up….”

HAS EVERYONE SEEN THE MHA ENDING? IM SO SAD. GIVE ME THE PEN IM RE WRITING THAT, I DONT WANT MHA TO END

[marcsburnerphone]

Wish I never came

Captain john price x f!reader

Summary: being johns wife has been full of security and safety and you never thought he’d be the one to taint that.

Warnings: angst(why doesn’t anyone write about how scary price can be when hes angry peepaw is cra), hurt/comfort, 141 task force loves you, price is fucking scary.

Part 2 out now!

—-------------------

Every first friday of the month you bring the boys and your husband a homemade meal to base. It’s been tradition for almost two years now since the first time you did it on a whim, John begged you for a good roast so you surprised him with some and since there was so much you’d brought the rest for his task.

Today you've perfected the dish gaz asked for, they decided rotations on requests now because it became unfair when soap requested meals only he liked 4 months in a row.

You packed all 4 meals in airtight thermal containers and put them in the car before heading towards base about 2 hours away. The military police men greeted you by first name when you arrived and buzzed you in.

“I've never been happier to see someone in my life.” soap rushes you and traps you in a hug while gaz takes the two bags from your hands.

“Good afternoon, wheres simon and john?” you greet both of them with smiles something that was relieving to see in a place like this. The common area was empty during this time of day so it was clear they weren't here.

Before they could answer simon came in, eyes looking more exhausted than usual. He gives a weak attempt at an ‘hello love’ a common and yet sweet name they’d picked up for you.

“I honestly wouldn't go into his office right now hes a little um on edge i’d say.” he grabs his thermal bowl from the bag its always the black one, this way they dont fight over which bowl has more.

“Nonsense simon he’s my husband, im just going to bring him this and be on my way.” simon shook his head turning a satisfied groan at the taste of real food in his mouth to a disapproving one at your persistence.

“love maybe listen he’s under a lot of pressure right now, its really not the time.” gaz interrupts simons beginning of a sentence.

Without another word you just grab his bowl and a fork setting off torwars his office which at this point you could get to blind.

“Are we just going to let her do that.” gaz looks to the two men.

“We warned and she’s right thats her husband i mean worst he’ll do is ignore her, loves her too much to hurt her.” ghost grumbles.

—

The air is tense on your way down the hall but you approach his door regardless as the familiar scent of a lit cigar fills your senses. You give two knocks before walking in.

“Hey just brought you some lunch.” you say quietly as you walk in observing the splay of files on the floor and desk.

He grunts and doesn't even spare you a look which yeah it stings but it was expected.

“Okay then can I leave it right here?” you point at a spot on a coffee table thats somewhat clear.

“Do whatever you want with it, mm not hungry.” he says lowly while taking another drag from his cigar letting the ash fall freely.

“So should i just leave it in the kitchen, i can just-.” you didn't know why you were rambling or nervous even john had only ever made you feel safe. 

“I fuckin said do what you please with it, I’m busy.” the tone made you shiver, and yes maybe you should've just left it and talked to him later but this wasn't a behavior from him you've ever experienced.

“John I-” 

“Jesus fucking christ take the food, leave the food I dont fucking care but get the fuck out of here as soon as you can thankyou!” His voice makes you flinch as he throws a stack of papers on the floor with an unneeded force, he yelled at you for the first time ever and you couldn't even process it. Was time bending or had the air become thin, you didn't know but you took a few weary steps back towards the door and left the food by the entrance on the floor finally closing it, once you were back in the hallway air found it’s way to your lungs as you took a deep breath.

“Hey its okay come on.” gaz was there gently caressing your arm along with the two others catching up behind him in the distance.

They never thought hed talk to you like that but right when they heard that deep threatening drawl boom from the common area gaz was the first one up and out. He was always overly protective of you.

You weren't crying, no but you wanted to. You just closed your eyes for what felt like ages and whispered an ‘I’m okay’ and left without another word.

Once you reached the comfort of your own car your heart caught up with the speed of your brain and tears poured, the last time you’d cried like this had been in childhood. Without another second you sped around the lot and out of the exiting gates wishing you'd never entered them in the first place.

You got a call not so long into your way home, maybe five minutes if you estimated correctly and you almost gagged at the picture of you and john that popped up as he rang you.

The boys were the ones to call next but you just dazed out on the long road ahead, disassociated from the outside world around you. You stopped at a cafe you particularly enjoyed in a town near your home needing to clear your thoughts. 

Price had waited and even started counting seconds to see if you'd pop up on the ring camera he installed to keep an eye on you, it brought him comfort especially when you'd make cute gestures at it or talk to him through it as you brought groceries inside. But now you should've been home an hour ago at most and still no sign of you.

He had not comprehended how loud he could get and he really only snapped out of it when soap appeared in his office with a very disapproving look. Then he finally noticed the look of fear in your eyes or how the sweet smile you always wore was a frown and then his gaze made it to the container he’d grown so familiar with by the door.

“FUCK!” he could cry grown man tears, he spoke to you how he sometimes speaks to his soldiers and the strings in his heart felt like they were on the verge of combusting.

“You fucked up captain.” soap added to the fuel before leaving his office.

—----------------

Anyone feel that chest pain.

Re-blogs and feedback are appreciated 🫶

[lilacargent]

As im currently dealing with the loss of a loved one, this is my way of coping.

Grief

Grief is an interstellar concept. Almost every species in the galaxy has its own traditions and practices. Humans are no exception, like with most of their emotions their grief is all encompassing. Traditions vary from one culture to another, even people deal with it in different ways.

Kilare as part of a flocking species wonders about the human crewmates when one is lost in a battle. She knew the passed human Ellie very well. Turns out they grieve like a flock, huddled together weeping, almost giving into the urge to join she turns away, expecting this to last for a long time she leaves them be. When she checks next the little unit is drinking and laughing, she can hardly believe it, carefully stepping into the room “i am sorry, may i ask something?” The humans look up some still blotchy from crying, the human she knows as liz nods “you were all weeping just now, but you seem happy? Im confused…” fluffing her feathers Kilare backpedals “not to be insensitive, im just trying to understand your process.” Evan gets up and walks to her “that is okay, you knew Ellie well right? We are talking about her and how we miss her, laughing comes with the tears.” Motioning for the taller feathered woman to join the little group Moira makes eye contact and starts explaining “i know you are from a species that grieves as a group, if i remember correctly mostly weeping and spread ashes on the wind to join in every flight” impressed by the womans knowledge she nods Moira goes on “humans have many different traditions, but every one grieves their own way and time. Mostly in five stages, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. No two people go through it the same or even through all of them. There is times we grieve as a collective, sometimes you need time and process as an individual. We are now reminiscing Ellie, but i already know im gonna have a cry later and ill never forget her.” Kamare could understand and respect that so she joined in. It soothed her soul.

It was years before she saw human grief again so up close.

When the Ri’ktil attacked they committed what humans called warcrimes without batting any of their eighteen eyes. The horror of the people quickly turned to fear. It was when they blew up a human colony Kimare saw the unified grief. Human governments trying to bargain with the Ri’ktil, families travelling to the floating remnants of the colony trying to find survivors, denying that what had happened killed everyone man, woman and child. A month passed and humanity had grown silent and passive, the Ri’ktal took this as victory and broad cast it to the rest of the species in the galactic counsel. A warning that they would stop at nothing and break them like they broke the humans. Kimare remembered her conversation all those years ago and realised that anger was still coming, she could almost seeing it brewing under the surface.

A month was what it took. A month for humans to start walking upright again. Not only humans on their planets but everyone, on every world and every ship seemed to have shared in the depression. So when the fog cleared the whispering began, then came the talking, when it turned to yelling the Ri’ktil took notice. It was too late for them though. Because humanity started screaming, unified rage became a spearhead of humans all over the galaxy, noone even considered not helping. The tsunami of humans that could not wait to tear their enemy apart surprised them, no matter their way too many eyes, this they did not see coming.

The counsel joined the humans in their fight, and quick as the Ri’ktil had invaded were they beat back aswell. The defeat of their enemies did not dismiss their grief. But instead of on a specie scale individuals began their own process. Four years later Kimare noticed a change, they had made a monument out of the destroyed colony, it seemed to signify an end point. Humans went there to process and make peace, they had accepted what had happened moved past it. But never forgotten.

Humans didn’t forget when they grieved, they remember and accept.

~~~~~~

Tadah

[poppy-metal]

hnngnngnggggnnn Patrick being a spoiled little rich boy <3

need to be his sugar baby :( getting to lounge around his mansion and use his black card at any shops you want as long as your mouth or pussy or ass are available to him whenever he wants :((

his little free use girlfriend who he parades around at important events in skimpy dresses that make people stare at you in shock, all so he has easier access to lift up your skirt or tug down the top and reveal your tits if the whim arises :((((

#needthat

need to be rich!patrick zweigs bratty sugar baby. need to be his little mistress because he never separated from his family and grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and became pro at tennis and became like all the other boring fucking older men at his fathers country club he swore he'd never be. need him to hate his life and how easy everything was to obtain and how his marriage is loveless and she doesn't even put out and his kids are rich little brats he can't connect with because they're little ipad kids, absolute demons, they wont go outside with him they dont wanna learn to play tennis or any sport or run around and make stick and dirt soup like he did when he was a kid and life is so fucking boring everything is in grays - until he meets you.

at a bar one night. its not the first time hes cheated on his wife - but it might be the first time he's fallen in love. he sees you and wants to fuck you immediately. already decides he'll have your panties around one ankle while he shoves a tongue up your cunt in the bathroom stall - he buys you a drink and you let him. you're sweet and flirty and you draw him in like a bee to a pretty flower - he's subconsciously leaning in, eyes can't stop dropping to your lips.

things take a turn though when you get up to leave and he blinks because he didn't mean to get swept up in the conversation - chases after you to try again - to take you back to a hotel or even in the back of his car - but you tell him no.

he just looks at you. confused. hard. "no." he repeats. rolls it around in his head. foreign. hasn't heard it much before. it sounds sweet coming from your lips.

"you're not fucking me." you tell him simply.

that shouldn't turn him on but it does. he's not stupid. you were attracted to him. he'd seen the way you looked at him - bitten your lip. he knows he's not projecting, because even now you're smiling as you say it.

he rubs a thumb over his bottom lip as he checks you over. strappy heels, but cheap. tight little bodysuit, but not designer. flashy purse but he knows the diamonds on it are fake.

ah.

"you in college?"

you smooth a hand down your hair. "sophomore year."

he nods, leans against the brick building of the bar. fishes in his coat pocket for his packet of cigarettes. "what're you studying?" he flips the box open, slides a cig out - brings it to his lips.

you eye him curiously as he roots for his lighter next - trying and failing to ignore the heat in your belly at how good this man looks leaning against something with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"we already did the small talk, dude. you're not getting any."

he ignores that. lights his cigarette and inhales. he likes that you're obviously irritated but you dont move away. he blows smoke through his nose. says again, "what're you studying."

you huff. roll your eyes. he watches you calmly, taking drags his cig. in the cool night air you can't tell the exact shade of his eyes, but you think they're green. everything about him screams money and dominance.

you cross your arms. "law." short but simple.

he nods like that makes sense, flicks ash.

"that's good." he says it in a way that sounds like he means it but also could be condescending and you dont know why that makes you swallow deeply. "expensive, though."

you narrow your eyes.

"you think im poor?"

usually someone would fumble after being called out like that but patrick just smiles in a way that says he knows you are -

"i know you're not rich."

you bristle. that hurts. you don't know why. who wants to look rich, anyway. fucking snobs. but still, its embarrassing to be told the distinction in class is obvious to someone else who's far far above you. you can already tell the watch hes wearing costs more than the apartment you can barely afford.

"thanks for the unasked for observation, dickhead." you yank your purse strap higher on your shoulder, make to turn away. "I'd say its been pleasant but well, it hasn't. so."

you make it a couple steps before he calls out -

"I'll pay it."

you're alot of things. you're haughty and stubborn and yeah, not rich. you're also down on your luck and struggling and drowning in so many things in the moment - barely being able to afford your own fucking beer at this point when what you wanted to accomplish in life would take thousands, thousands of dollars. so hearing the word 'pay'. well, yeah. it makes you turn around to face the guy.

"you'll what?"

he knows you heard. it was cute how you perked right up.

"I'll pay it." he gestures towards you. "all of it - your semester. your tuition. textbooks. whatever else you need."

you gawk at him.

the thing is. he's attractive. alarmingly so. disarmingly really. he's tall and broad and he dresses well. he has that perfectly styled hair and deep rich man scent that makes your mouth water. a beautiful face with a rouge kind of touch. you'd have fucked a man like him under any normal circumstance, but given the way your life is going at the moment - you haven't the time to waste on pretty men with big dicks.

probably. he probably has a big dick.

"you're fucking kidding me."

"nah." he licks his bottom lip. takes another drag. flicks more ash to the pavement. he looks at you like he's already imagining you naked in front of him. "I'm good for it."

"well duh." you look him up and down. "you look like you just stepped out of a magazine for mens wealth or whatever. why the fuck are you offering? you expect me to suck your dick for it or something?"

you say the last part sarcastically, rolling your eyes - but patrick just looks at you seriously. sucks the humor right from your bones when he says - "yeah, i do."

two things happen in your body.

firstly, you stiffen. the urge to slap him for being so derogatory making your fingers twitch at your sides. your face burns.

secondly and most apparently, your cunt throbs. your nipples tighten. you inhale sharply in a way patrick notices. smirks at.

you blink at him several times.

"i can't believe you just seriously said that to me." you say it kind of breathlessly. you really can't believe it though.

"should i be more clear?" he takes one step towards you. "i want to fuck you - you want to fuck me, but you won't do it for free. I'm offering to pay you for it."

"i - im not a whore."

the grin patrick gives you makes a tremble shoot through your whole body. you feel it in your toes.

"you sure about that?"

you really should slap him.

you dont.

you fumble, "you're married." you'd spotted the ring at the bar earlier. it hadn't been the reason you turned him down initially, but still.

"you dont care about that."

fuck.

"you cant just...... buy whatever you want. im a person."

he nods. he's done with his cigarette so be crushes it beneath his boot. "give me your hand." he just takes it anyway. you watch dumbly as he gets a pen from his pocket - how many things did he have in his fucking pocket? - bites the cap off, and brings the tip to your palm. "this is the number for my personal phone."

of course he had multiple phones. he doesn't let go of your hand when he's done writing. rubs his thumb into the pulse point at your wrist.

"when you change your mind -" when not if. "- i want you to call me."

you go to pull your hand away, but patrick squeezes it.

"one more thing."

he's close enough the spicy mint scent of him fills your nose. he dips his head so he's closer to your ear, you feel the stubble on his chin graze your cheek -

"when you let me fuck you - you will be a cheap whore. you'll let me do what I want to you. and i know its not because of the money. but i understand what its like to need something to let yourself have something else." he turns his head. kisses your cheek. "don't take too long to call, though. I'm not a patient man."

[henry7931]

Freaky Friday Block Part I

In a quiet neighborhood, 40 individuals one Friday morning all woke up in the wrong body. Although, all of them know each other— none of them are sure how or what happened to cause it. So the mystery begins…

Friday 8:00AM

An alarm starts to sound abruptly.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Max:

“Ugh… what time is it?”

*Yawns*

“Wait, what the? Where am I?”

This isn’t my room… my feet they look huge….

Who’s bed am I in? And what’s wrong with my feet?

I climb out of bed and feel my weight hit the ground, my stomp sounds heavier.

I look at my arms, my legs, something isn’t right…

I walk to the door of the strange bedroom I’m in and open it. Looking out in the hallway, it starts to look familiar.

“This is Jacob’s house, what am I doing at Jacob’s?”

Wait my voice? It sounds deeper and has this rasp to it.

I walk into Jacob’s bathroom and turn on the light.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!”

This can’t be possible. How is this possible? Looking at me in the mirror is… Jacob’s dad, Mr. Thomas.

I splash cold water in my face thinking this may all be a dream but I’m still Mr. Thomas.

I pinch his cheek and the feel slight stubble on his face.

My realization starts to stink in that this is in fact not a dream, I am actually my friend’s dad Daniel Thomas.

I stare into his face taking it all in, Mr. Thomas is a handsome man. At least, I’ve always thought he’s attractive. He’s single with two sons and I’ve never seen him with a woman.

I run his fingers down his arms, flexing his muscles a bit which causes me to giggle.

I repeat back into the mirror, “Hi, I’m Dan Thomas.”

It sounds funny hearing my self control such a deeper voice.

I look down at his chest and then my eyes focus in on his boxer briefs.

Curious, I pull down his boxers and Mr. Thomas’s 10 inch semi hard manhood and huge hairy balls is fully exposed.

“Not bad!” I say checking out his junk from every angle.

I turn around and get a glance of his cute hairy butt. I smack it and start laughing again.

Mr. Thomas is such a serious guy and I never see him act goofy. Making him do things so out of character is kind of a turn on.

I had a moment of fun before coming back to reality. I need to figure out what’s going on and why I’m Mr. Thomas.

But who do I even talk to about this? Should I say something to Jacob or is going to think his dad’s gone mad…

Screw it, I’ll knock on his door.

*Knock Knock*

“Hey Jacob, open up it’s uhh… it’s dad!”

Geez, I’m not good at this.

The door doesn’t open but then I hear a door across the hallway open. It’s Jacob’s little brother.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” he says to me.

“Hey Conner, I was trying to your brother up.”

“Conner? Dad did you just call me Conner?”

All of the sudden, Jacob’s door opens and Jacob is standing at the door.

“What’s going on?” he says with a big yawn.

It takes a second for everything to click but both Conner and Jacob scream on the top of their longs.

“Conner?!??”

“Jacob?!???”

“But… but how?”

“Well I have some news boys, I’m not your dad either. It’s me Max.”

“Max??!??”

Well I guess I’m glad I’m not the only one who woke up as someone else this morning.

Meanwhile Two Houses Down, a guy named Ashton is babysitting his nephew Davy.

Davy:

I woke up feeling weird and for some reason why I’m in Uncle Ash’s bed!

“Uncle Ash?”

Wow! My voice sounds funny!!!

I swing my legs out of bed but then I notice something very different….

My feet look like someone else’s!

I stand up and notice I’m so much closer to the ceiling.

I walk out to the hallway and head to the bathroom.

When I turn on the light, I COULD NOT BELIVE WHAT I SAW!!!

IM UNCLE ASH!!!

I looked in the mirror and couldn’t look away. I’m so much more tall! And hairier?

“Wow Uncle Ash had tattoos?? Cool!”

This is amazing!!! All of my friends are going to be so jealous!!

Wait… if I’m uncle Ash, then who’s me???

Across the street another house with college/ graduate students guys starts to wake up.

Kyle:

“Mhmmm… that feels so good….”

Wait…. My dick feels kinda funny….

“Wow what the fuck?”

My body look didn’t and why the hell am I in Skylar’s room?

I hope out of bed and head to the bathroom.

I know us guys partied last night but I didn’t drink that much to fall asleep in Skylar’s bed.

I get the bathroom and open up the door. Only to find Zeek on the floor with his tongue out.

“Zeek you okay?”

“Woof!”

“What the hell?”

I glance into the mirror only for eyes to get bigger. I see Skylar’s good looking face looking back at me.

Across the street from the Thomas’s house.

Daniel Thomas:

*Yawn*

“Boy that was one of the best sleeps I’ve had in awhile.”

“What a sec.. where am I?”

[c0llisiion]

Pairing: hwang hyunjin + f!reader

★ : Drabble, voyeurism (noncon) , roommate!hj , reader is horny ash — lmk if i missed any!

W/C: 794

A/N: HIIIIIII!!!! Im back w a new skz drabble HEHE i was like thinking about writing this a while ago and then finally decided to do it so my block doesn’t get the best of me 😹 not rlly sure of the ending and im kinda eh on the entire fic but anyways enjoy! <333

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Thinking about roommate Hyunjin accidentally catching you playing with yourself in the living room. He couldn’t deny the fact that he had a huge crush on you since the day you moved in and only didn’t make a move because you were his roommate. This wasn’t the first time he has caught you in an act like this, though. He has heard your guttural moans through the thin walls every time you thought he wasn’t home. It was an accident at first, but as time went on, he started doing it on purpose. Hyunjin was kind of closed off. He didn’t necessarily talk to you that much, only occasional small talks or about rent. Most of the time, yall were just locked up in your own rooms and only saw each other in the mornings when you both left for university. You knew that after university he would go off to his studio for a couple of hours and only return around 7-8, which gave you the perfect opportunity to do whatever you wanted and pretend everything was alright once he was back, but since that one fateful day, Hyunjin's schedule changed. He never told you he was coming home early. You were still under the impression that he was at his studio. Little did you know he would come home earlier than expected. His back was pressed against the wall that separated your room and his hand glided up and down over his lengthy shaft. Beads of sweat trickled down his neck, and his eyes shut tight as he listened to your sweet moans and the whirring of your vibrator. You were loud, and it allowed him to imagine you however he wanted. He wanted you so bad. He wanted you under his lean build, begging for him to go faster and deeper. He wanted to know how soft and warm your pussy was. How it would feel around his length. How tight you were. His breath quivered as his hands increased in pace. The image of your ass rippling every time it came into contact with his pelvis. Thinking about all the dirty things he would whisper into your ears. Filling you up with his hot cum over and over again till it drips down your legs. He couldn’t get enough of you. As your moans died down, he would glance at his hands to be greeted by his own load of cum, staining his abdomen and legs. 

That day, he actually missed out on your session since he had a few things to finish. He came home frustrated and exhausted, notifying you that he was going to sleep and to not disturb him before passing out on his bed. What seemed like a couple of hours later, Hyunjin slowly opened his bedroom door, groggy and still not fully awake, but was immediately brought back to earth when he heard your whines and whimpers out in the wild. He walked a bit closer into the living room, and his eyes went wide as he watched you play with yourself. The living room setting made it impossible for you to notice anyone standing behind you, so you just kept going, hoping the loud movie sound was enough to mute out your moans. He was painfully hard. A large tent was clearly visible in his gray sweatpants. He gulped as he watched your fingers go in and out of your sloppy cunt. Your other hand was on your clit, rubbing soft circles on the sensitive nub, making you whine and whimper. Your fingers curled into your gspot, making you arch your back softly against the couch cushions. Your hands reached up to squeeze and play with your perky tits, making you gush even more. Hyunjin shuddered at the sight. His vision went almost blurry at hearing your obscene, dirty talk. His hand subconsciously went down to palm at his erection. Palm running over the painfully hard length. His breath was faltering as he continued watching you. Precum started leaking out of his tip, creating a wet patch on the crotch of his sweats. But he wasn’t paying any mind to that. He was just focused on you and how you pleasured yourself. The way your body responded to your own touches was driving him crazy. Your fingers started picking up pace, making your body writhe. Breathy moans escaping your wet lips. As you increased your pace, he too started palming himself at the same rate but was quickly brought back to earth, realizing how wrong it is to watch you at your most vulnerable and intimate moment without your consent. He gulped before slowly heading back to his room and shutting his door as gently as possible, making sure you couldn’t hear.

A/N : THANK YOU FOR READING!!!! ICB WE ARE VV CLOSE TO HITTING 1K 😭😭😭😭🎀🎀🎀 lowkey crazy. BUT ANYWAYS I MIGHT DROP AN AU IN HONOUR SOOOO HEHE ILY GUYS SMM!!

Masterlist!

[jeansplaytoy]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

part two

conniexreader, playing with feelings (not readers), ex talks, cursing, alcohol, weed, aave usage, sexual references.

sorry that i took so long with this part y’alllll, and i know it’s honestly really short, it’s really a side chapter that i’m posting before all the good stuff happens.

⇦ part one here | part three here ⇨

you stared at connie from across the room. he was sitting in the kitchen again, and you were in the living room with mikasa and sasha now.

“they def’ fucked.” sasha whispered to mikasa as they both sat on different sides of you. mikasa nodded while staring back and forth from you and connie.

from the kitchen, ony did the same thing.

“bruh what is y’all doin, bro? y’all been staring at each other for bout five minutes.” ony glanced at connie from his phone. connie smacked his lips and looked down at his drink. “nothing.” he muttered while shaking his head.

“yall i hate that nigga.” you frowned, realizing that connie’s gaze had been off of you for a few seconds. “girl you say that about every dude that beat them doonies down real bad.” mikasa mumbled, leaning up to get her cup. “okay but i really hate that one. nigga took full control over me like i was his bitch or sum.”

“so you fucked him?” sasha muttered. you hummed. “he fucked me.”

“disgusting.” mikasa scoffed with a small smile before swallowing the rest of her drink.

you stared at the ground, shaking your head before looking at connie again, who looked at you after a seconds. he chuckled a little before standing up, putting his phone in his pocket while walking through the crowd, towards the front door.

“hold up.” you said before standing up and following him through the crowd. some seconds passed before you finally made it outside, instantly seeing him stand beside the door.

“you obsessed, huh?” he shook his head, putting a blunt to his lips and lighting it. you stood in front of him, not saying anything before rolling your eyes. “not wit’ you. who you think you is?” you tilted your head. connie laughed. “girl i’m connie fuckin’ springer. hoes love me.”

“well i ain’t no hoe, so ion love you.” you rolled your eyes. connie hummed. “oh, but you loved me an hour ago.” he said, tilting his head at you while exhaling smoke in your face, making you move your head to the side a little.

“i don’t like nothing about you. you prolly got hoes anyway.” you muttered. connie slowly smiled. “hell yeah. and i know you got some too, so we both equal, huh.”

“i guess so.” you exhaled, glancing over to the side. you saw a group of girls glaring at you and whispering things to each other. “i got yo hoes mad. forgive me if they don’t want you no more.” you said, smiling to yourself as they walked off.

“we aint together, i can have em back whenever. i saw some muh’fuckas lookin at me too. ian gon trip tho.” connie whispered the last part, passing you his blunt.

you grabbed it, putting it to your lips and inhaling deeply before exhaling through your nose.

“i see you stuck to me now.” he raised his eyebrows, putting his hands on his sweatpants pockets. you tilted your head, shaking it and staring at the ground, flicking the ash beside you. “not really. i just wanna see what you bout. is that a bad thing?” you raised your eyebrows, looking back up at connie, who just shrugged.

“nah, not completely.” connie mumbled. “i just wanna make sure you ain’t one of them hoes that go around fucking everybody.”

“so i’m a hoe to you, now?” you squint at him. “nahhh, no, ion mean it like that.” connie lazily laughed. “i mean, an actual hoe. im just tryna make sure you ain’t for everybody.” he admitted, making you purse your lips together. “and you ain’t? you talking to me like you tryna fuck wit me.”

“i fuck on girls when i feel like i’m gon like it, not when a girl feel like she like me. i really just be staying to myself most of the time.” he muttered.

before you could say something back, someone tapped your shoulder once. “excuse me.” a girl raised her eyebrow at you before wrapping her arms around connie’s neck. “heyyy, baby. what you doin here?” she tilted her head, completely ignoring your presence.

“excuse you.” you muttered, watching her. she glanced back at you for a second. “who she posed to be?” she pointed back at you with her thumb while looking up at connie with a slick look on her face.

“we was just talkin.” connie mumbled, patting her waist a little. when she got off of him, she looked back at you, once more. “i’ll see you at home tonight.” she smiled, softly squeezing his hand before walking off.

you watched her, looking her up and down. “so that’s the hoe you cheated on for me? and multiple other bitches?” you pointed at her, giving connie back his blunt as he sighed.

“we together, but we on and off. she just be doing that shit when she see me wit somebody else, don’t worry bout her.”

“i promise you i ain’t worried.” you scoffed before shaking your head, reaching towards the front door to open it. “wait, where you goin?” connie frowned. “home. this party lame as hell. and all i got tonight was some ran through, good dick.” you muttered to connie as he slowly smiled.

“you liked it.” he whispered to you. you bit your lip softly before shaking your head.

“for now.”

[lovesodakid]

what a tease.

chris x fem!reader

summary: y/n and chris have a ‘weird’ friendship. that friendship took a sexual turn one night. which ultimately led them to being friends with benefits. now, playing card games with everyone with slight teasing between two of them.

warnings: smut!, teasing, dom!chris(ish). should be it. *not proof read*

____________________________________________

“oh my god, nick!” i whine, throwing my face into my hands.

the triplets, madi, and i are all having a game night at the triplets house. we all collectively decided that we needed to have a night to our selves, all of us being so busy with work causing us to almost barely see each other anymore.

nick, matt, and madi sit on the couch as chris and i are sat on the floor in front of the coffee table facing the couch. a deck of UNO cards sitting in a nice stack in the middle of the table, while right beside it, is a messy stack of cards that’s been thrown down by each of us.

nick just threw the +4 card down on me.

“sorry y/n!” he giggles, showing anything but empathy in his face.

i groan before grabbing 4 cards off of the stack, earning myself 2 reverse cards, a +2 card, and a regular blue number 9 card.

chris being after me, he lays down his choice of card before speaking.

“you’re definitely the type to throw tables when you lose a game y/n/n.”

my eyebrows furrow as i shoot him a disapproving look.

“you are so insanely wrong,” i begin. “i might hate losing but i definitely don’t throw tables.”

“i don’t know, you kinda seem like that type.” matt chimes in.

i throw my hands in the air, opening my mouth to speak until i get cut off by nick and madi agreeing while laughing to themselves.

the game continues, music humming at a low volume coming from the tv.

once the game end games with matt winning, we sit around in the same spots, just talking about life and what our plans for the future are.

“i’m working on new designs for second choice right now, i don’t have anything else going on other than that at the moment.” madi explains to all of us.

“can i see some!” nick asks excitedly.

“of course!” madi smiles, grabbing her phone, scrolling on it, seemingly showing nick her designs as he lets out a few ‘oo’s and ‘ahh’s in adoration.

matt, sitting next to them scrolling on his own phone.

chris and i, sitting next to each other, also on our own phones. occasionally showing each other funny tiktoks that’s come across our for you pages.

“here.” chris says. pointing his phone toward me so i can see his screen.

i look over to his phone, expecting some video of someone falling, like he’s showed me pretty much everytime he decides to show me something.

but oh. was i wrong.

when i look at his phone, it’s one of those slide pictures, with a red background. i swipe two times before reading the words on the red screen.

“you look good in clothes. but you’d be looking fine ash without them.”

im surprised my eyeballs didn’t come rolling out of my head by how wide my eyes opened, along with my mouth.

i shake my head, pushing his phone away from me as he lets out a small chuckle.

a few moments go by, occasional conversations between nick and madi, sounds coming from our phones, and the music in the background filling the silence.

until i feel a warmth on my exposed thigh, due to my pajama shorts. i look down, noticing chris’s hand almost completely covering it. god. how i love his hands.

i quickly come out of my trance of staring at his hands as i look up to him, furrowing my eyebrows.

he notices, and mouths a quick “what?”.

i look down to his hand, then back up to him, almost as if to say: “what are you doing?”

with that, he just gives me a cocky grin as he turns his attention back to his phone, keeping his hand on my thigh.

thankfully, it seems like everyone else is in their own little world, completely oblivious to chris’s actions as he slowly and sensually works his hand more upwards. closer and closer to my center until his middle and ring finger are slightly ghosting over the middle of my shorts.

“hey y/n/n, do you want to see my new designs?” madi asks, turning her phone around to face me as she slightly leans over the coffee table.

“sure!” i smile, leaning my own body forward a little bit.

in my peripheral vision, i notice chris’s face being taken over by a sly smirk. before i can question it, i feel a quick up and down motion right on my clothed clit. that’s why he was smirking.

“so…what do you think?” madi asks, excitedly.

i clear my throat to choke back a small moan as his finger movement speeds up. “t-they’re gorgeous!” i chirp back.

she smiles sweetly at me as she leans back into the couch, attention going back to her phone.

i turn my own attention on to not making any sounds as chris continues to speedily move his fingers against me.

i grab his hand with mine, harshly moving it to his own lap as i leave it there. which causes him to quickly snap his head toward me with the most smug grin on his face.

i roll my eyes, turning my phone back on to scroll through instagram.

“hey do you guys wanna bake some brownies?” nick questions the group excitedly.

-

“and now we wait 30 minutes.” madi tells us, setting the pan of uncooked brownies into the oven.

“i don’t know if i can wait that long!” chris groans loudly.

“you’ll be fine kid.” matt chuckles, picking up the trash that was left over from our baking.

i walk over to get the bowl of brownie batter. because everyone knows brownie batter is the best part about brownies.

i swirl the spoon around the bowl, picking up some of the left over mix. i lift it up to my mouth, licking the spoon clean as i hum at the chocolatey taste.

i go to put the spoon back in the bowl to scoop up the rest but i stop as i get the feeling of eyes burning holes into me. i look up, noticing chris staring at my mouth. like his eyes can’t be ripped away.

i smile to myself, scooping up the rest of the batter before i stick my tongue out, slowly licking up the spoon. i hold eye contact with chris as i do so.

“hey y/n…can you come help me pick out an outfit for our next photo shoot?” chris asks, a small hint of urgency lacing his voice.

i nod my head, putting the empty bowl and spoon into the sink.

“don’t take too long, we got brownies to eat!” nick exclaims as chris and i make our way to his room.

well more of chris dragging me to his room.

once we get to his bedroom door, he swiftly opens it, pulling me into the room behind him. he practically slams the door shut as he pushes me against the back of it, pinning me to it.

“what the fuck was that?” he rasped.

i furrow my eyebrows, allowing a playful smirk to spread across my face.

“what?” i question dumbly.

“you know what.” he retorts.

i shake my head side to side. “no i don’t.” i say mockingly.

he lets out a low chuckle before leaning into me, his lips grazing over my ear. i’d be a fool to say the sound of his husky laugh coming from his mouth didn’t turn be on tremendously.

“licking that spoon like that?” he rasps, lifting his left hand to caress the left side of my face as he breaths into my right. “the same way you use that tongue on my dick?”

he closes the gap, his mouth attaching itself on that spot right under my ear.

“chris!” i yelp breathlessly, the tingling in my abdomen becoming almost unbearable from the teasing earlier and now this.

“hmm?” he hums. “what is it baby?” he detaches hisself from me, staring into my eyes.

i whine at the detachment as i return his gaze.

“i need you.” i whine in a whisper.

“mhm.” he hums, a smirk present on his face as he connects our lips.

our lips dance across each other smoothly like a ballerina sways across a stage.

his left hand slides from my cheek to my neck, wrapping his hand around it firmly as he pulls me off the door.

he swiftly turns me around, walking me backwards until the back of my knees hit the smooth frame of his bed.

he intensifies the pressure on my throat. but as quickly as he does, it’s also gone as he uses that to push me onto the pillowy soft comforter of his bed.

my body bounces from the impact before stopping, sinking into the mattress.

he waists no time in using his hands to loop around the waistband of my pajama shorts, yanking them down. they end up finding home somewhere on his bedroom floor.

“god ‘ma. did i do this to you?” he groans, noticing the wet patch in my orange lace underwear. he takes his index finger, running it up and down my clothed folds. repeating his steps from earlier.

my hips buck up, not expecting the sudden motion.

“chris!” i cry out.

“shh baby,” he removes the hand from my center, covering my mouth with it. “don’t want them to hear you, hm?”

i nod my head. he smirks, removing it. “think you can handle being quiet?” he husks, removing his sweatpants.

i nod my head once again, this time at a faster pace than before.

he pushes his red boxers down, stepping out of them. his cock visibly throbbing, needing attention.

he kneels back down between my legs, his hands making their way up the plush of my thighs. once he reaches the lining of my panties, his fingers hook around them before skillfully gliding them down. which also end up making home on his bedroom floor.

“we gotta be quick ‘ma.” he breathes out. referring to the fact that there’s still a house full upstairs.

he crawls over me, using his hands to hold himself up as they come on each side of my head.

“you ready baby?” he cooes, rubbing his hand up and down my clothed stomach. the both of us only being nude from waist down.

“yes.” i whisper, entangling my hand in his hair.

he smiles as he looks down between us. i moan softly as his tip begins pushing into me.

“fuck.” he groans as he bottoms out, his head falling into the crook of my neck.

“move chris, please.” i whimper.

he pulls out, leaving his tip in before he pushes back in at a slow pace.

he continues the slow thrusts, my walls hugging his dick in all of the right ways.

“chris, faster!” i moan out.

almost as if he was waiting for me to say it, he speeds his thrusts. rutting into me at a harsh but pleasurable pace.

“taking me so well, hm?” he grunts into my ear. the rasp of his voice traveling through my ear straight to my pussy.

the tip of his dick continuously kissing the sweet spot inside me, sending me over the edge.

“mm-fuck.” i moan quietly, reminding myself of the people upstairs.

“were you thinking about this when you were licking that spoon like that?” he grunts. “maybe next time you can use that pretty little tongue on my cock?”

i moan in response. his hips snapping into mine at a quick pace.

“chris-i’m gonna cum!” i warn, feeling the coil in my stomach get closer to snapping.

“c’mon baby, cum for me.” his already quick pace speeding.

almost as if my body needed confirmation, the coil snaps immediately. ecstasy coating my body.

“fuck.” chris moans in a grunt. his hips sputtering as he paints my insides white.

we lay with our body’s connected for a moment as we both catch our breaths.

he eventually pulls out, causing both of us to hiss at the slight overstimulation. he walks to his bathroom, grabbing a towel to clean the both of us up.

once we’re both clean, he dresses himself before dressing me.

“let’s head up now, yeah?” he pulls me up, leaving a small kiss on my forehead as i nod.

we both make our way out of his bedroom, back upstairs to join everyone else.

“took you long enough! the brownies are done!” nick yells excitedly. a plate with a half eaten brownie sitting on it. matt and madi sitting with him at the table.

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a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long to get out !! im working on sts 6! and sorry this is so rushed, esp towards the end, i kept zoning out during it so it lowkey kinda sucks lol

(also thank you to @imwetforyourmom and @bernardsbendystraws for lowkey helping me out w this 🙏)

____________________________________________

[rustycopper4use]

Ok, uhm....I've seen someone make a request for poly Ozzie x Fizz x Reader in which the reader is Blitzø's brother, but I got a better one for you! How about (poly ofc) Ozzie x Fizz x Male Reader who is Striker's older brother? Like, maybe he heard about what happened in greed ring and came to apologise on his brother's behalf and maybe offer his services as bodyguard?

Fizz x Ozzie x Male reader!

sorry I went a little bit off the rails but I hope you like it!!

At the beginning you were close to fizzaroli as kids.

 you first met him at one of his shows, and you would try to see all his shows. And ended up dragging your younger brother striker to them, much to his protests.

  You would spend hours with fizzaroli, him being the only sense of affection in your life. Giving your family’s old fashioned values. His was the escape from it all.

 Your father resented the wasted time spent with some lowly circus clown, he would try every thing to make you to stop seeing him. After awhile he even turned Striker against you, which in retrospect wasn’t hard he idolized him. 

 In the ended up with you sneaking out the house everyday to see the goofy imp.

 However that was until the fire. You had been only been able to talk to him when you actually came to the circus.

 So one day you went to see him, with a small birthday gift you’d be able to pay for.

 only to met with ashes, and burnt remains of childhood memories, it was hauntingly void of life still fresh with smoke.

 And you never heard from him again.

  You left the gift in the remains. It became a regular thing, you’d leave a small gift every year on his birthday.

  A way to remember him, maybe you’d just like the sadness that came with it rather than the bitter empty feeling in your cold aching chest. 

 Or you’re still in denial, waiting for the day he’ll somehow come back and it’ll be some big cruel joke.

  After that you replaced that time with meaningless jobs, helping dad around the farm. 

  While your younger brother took up kill for hire, you would be along aside for protection, an extra set of hands. 

 This new attitude brought a sense of pride to the rest of the family.

 Your relationship wasn’t the same with your less than functional family. You weren’t ever close to your father or brother but, it got even more distant. Opting for only talking when needed.

  One day striker came back from a job beaten bruised, and burned.

 As you fixed him up, he whined about his failed attempt, he brought up an all to familiar name.

 “Y’know that lowlife clown was such a brat to deal with, and his pathetic friend Blizto-“

 “Are you talking about fizzaroli?”

 “-Wait no, Fizzaroli’s alive?.”

 “Look I don’t care if you had a soft spot for that thing, I had a job and I’m gonna go through with it.”

 “You never thought to tell me he was alive!”

 “Of course I didn’t, Dad and I knew you were going to act like this, you became a better demon because of us.”

 “Get out.”

 Striker gets to door before turning back towards you.

 “Im not gonna give up this job because you’ve grown weak.”

 “Oh I know you won’t.”

 He left.

  You weren’t sure what to do now. Striker was a stubborn person, he wouldn’t give up till Fizzaroli’s head was on a stick.

  Luckily for you. you were just as petty as the snake.

 For the next few days you looked for opportunities to work at Ozzie’s. You came across for a listing for a personal bodyguard for Fizz. 

 You got scheduled for an interview, part of you dreaded seeing him again.

 You headed down(up?) to the lust ring. The gorgeous neon lights, against the calming rain.

  The Ozzie’s club was nothing short of a spectacle. And the start to your new life.

  Ozzie was apprehensive on hiring someone with relations with the demon that kidnapped Fizzaroli in the first place. 

 But Fizz reassured his worries, he knew you weren’t like him.

 The start of this job was- not exactly awkward, but there was this weird air around you three. A few weeks in and you’ve finally settled in, you grew comfortable with the duo and life finally felt back on track.

 You still felt guilt for what your brother did, you would always give gifts to fizzaroli as a form of an apology, a better change than what you did for 15 years. You also get into the habit of going above what was asked for even at your own expense.

 Even when Fizzaroli explained he didn’t blame you, it was your brother’s actions after all. You settled for buying him flowers every other day.

  The two would flirt with you, fizzaroli being more bold, knowing exactly what makes you tick and that special spot that makes you melt.

  Ozzie on the other hand, had a different approach. He took on a more romantic strategy, he learned very early on that his voice was your weakness, a few praises and you were a goner. 

 When striker found out he was pissed. His own brother fooling around with blue blood, how did you turn out like this.

 Every time he would show up you always up lovey-dovey just to rub salt in a wound.

  Fizzaroli adored it when you’d get riled up and your southern accent would slip. He would purposely push your buttons lovingly just to hear it.

 Every time Fizzaroli would want attention you’d always make sure to hold his face given it’s the only part he can really feel now.

 Ozzie was the only one that Could cook, and that still didn’t change with you around. Sure you weren’t as bad as Fizz but still.

 Fizzaroli would call you a cowboy (affectionately)

[random-gamer1942]

(1/7) The train that was

Trainwreck Graveyard

(2/7) Ready to go

The train started coming to a halt about a minute after the explosion

Why do these things have to be so loud, the sheriff thought, ears still ringing. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, before attempting to stand up

Her legs were a bit shaky, but she couldn't care less with the situation at hand. Once the train had fully stopped, she stepped onto the ground through the missing back of the cabin and looked off into the distance

Broken pieces of metal were scattered everywhere, and the rails had been damaged. The last 2 cabins had been disconnected and derailed where the explosion happened a good 70-80 yards back, and was currently on it's side

Thankfully she didn't see anyone in there. The train station only let you walk directly into the first three cabins and this was a less busy time of week, but this could've been bad

As she started walking to investigate the site, someone approuched from the train. She looked back and saw a man that looked annoyed - and what she very easily recognized as a concealed sawed-off shotgun in his coat

With a smooth motion she pulled both her revolvers. "I know a thug when I see one, who the hell are you?"

He flinched, but didn't do anything. Instead, he said "The 2 that rode off don't count then? Besides, not everything revolves around you, big-shot. I gotta find those outlaws before I lose this gig."

"Gi-? Ah, hired protection. Say, you talk big for someone who should've prevented this in the first place."

"Whatever, just let me do my job", he said, walking towards the disconnected cabins to investigate, with the sheriff following suit

After a few minutes of looking around they discovered 2 things: 1) tracks, clearly from horses, and 2) a monocle, but from one of those outlaws. It seems there had been someone in the cabin after all, though there was no trace of them...

The man turned to the sheriff. "Well, good luck with writing a report or whatever, I'm off", as he started following the tracks.

"Hold your horses, cowboy. No way are you going after them by yourself, can't have another missing person on my conscience."

"I don't plan on going missing Ms. Big-shot. But fine, come along if you have to."

"Stop calling me that, my name's Ashlyn."

"No thanks, I'm fine with Big-shot. But for the sake of pleasantries, I'm Tyler."

She sighed. She didn't like working with others, especially knuckleheads like him. But she had this strange feeling she was gonna need all the help she could get. And right as she thought that, someone else came running up

"An adventure!? I'm coming along!", said the woman, who looked very excited. And kind of like the knucklehead too, the sheriff thought

"No way Tay, too dangerous. Besides, shouldn't you stay behind to fix the train?"

"C'mon Ty, not even I could fix this by myself. The conductor has already sent for help from a few other mechanics, they won't even notice I'm gone."

"But-"

"Besides, mom said we should always stick together. I'm going."

"Fine. But is the luggage really necessary", he asked, gesturing at the large backpack she had with her

"You never know what you'll need, and you always take too little with you. And I'm carrying it myself, so stop complaining", she snapped back

He sighed, defeated. Siblings, good to know, Ash noted. And soon, they were ready to set off

...

Aiden sat on the back of his cousin's horse, looking at the sunset. "Say Stache, why in tarnation did we take that softie again?"

The man on the horse next to him with a large moustache looked increasingly annoyed from being asked the same question for the who-knows-how-oftenth time. "Smiles, I swear to the lord in the heavens above, if you ask me that question again I'll throw this shrimp on your guys' horse."

"It don't make no sense to me though..."

"For the LAST time, he's important leverage for the possible skirmishes next week."

"But why'd they give two shit bout 'im? 'Leverage' didn't work last time."

"That's because you're the only person on this darned earth insane enough to enjoy being kidnapped by criminals, and whose parents would for some reason be okay with you wanting to stay?"

"I mean, it do be excitin', don't it?"

"Just shut up, you're givin' me another headache. Besides, we're here."

He pointed to a cave about 300 yards away, with dim orange light coming out of it. After riding for a few more moments the 4 horses came to a stop. The cousins, the man with a moustache, and 3 others stepped off their horses

The man who rode in front grabbed a weird object from his horse and gave the reins to one of the other outlaws

"Cwrwfwll wwth thwt", the kid on the back of Stache's horse mumbled through the cloth in his mouth, but noone paid him any mind

"Scars, Salted, tie them horses down. Stache, grab that kid and come with me. Same for y'all, Smiles, Silent."

Some 'yes sir's and 'alrighty's were said and Ben nodded. Stache threw the young 20-something with light brown hair over his shoulder and, together with the cousins, started following the boss

Inside, they saw a handful of others sitting around a campfire. The group, including them, consisted of about a dozen outlaws, ranging from about 16 to 40 years old

A few of them greeted the boss and the three others as they came walking in. A bit later, the last to also came to join them

"Alrighty, seems everyone's here. I think we're almost ready boys. A few more days and our names will be known throughout the country", the leader said, lighting a cigar. "A few more days..."

(3/7): in progress

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 8.

Summary: The fallout of arguing with Oliver, not fighting with Farleigh, Felix hooks up with your not-girlfriend, and so you provide comfort to his sort-of-ex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: someone makes a move on the reader while they're very very drunk and the reader is far more sober, but it doesn't go past kissing, if that's something you're possibly concerned about.

A/N: 5424 words. welcome back. this one goes many different places in the span of one night. the farleigh of it all. the annabel of it all. im worried this one might feel OOC so id really like to hear if there's anywhere i could improve on my characterisation, what worked, what didn't?? as always unedited, and as we're nearing the end of the term (in the fic) we only have a few chapters left at oxford before we get to go to saltburn!! LOVE YOU ENJOY!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

"Didn't have to do that," Felix sighed from his desk, head bent low over his textbook. It's the first thing he'd said since Oliver left. You, still on his bed, picking through a textbook for a class you both share, found half-shoved under his bed, look up.

"Do what?"

"That thing with Michael What's-His-Name's file," it almost sounds like guilt in his voice, but he still isn't listening to you, "you could get in real trouble for having that."

In swift movements he stands, and you catch the sight of his scowl despite how he doesn't turn it upon you. Once again he's sitting on the floor, back to the foot of the bed, lighting up another cigarette, legs crossed in front of him.

"I'll put it back tomorrow." You're not used to Felix disapproving of you, it's a kind of discomfort you want to shake as quickly as you're able to. After a moment you add, "I know it's not really Ollie's fault, I shouldn't have -"

"I don't want to talk about Ollie right now." He's focused on balancing his ash tray on his knee, watching it with such intensity it's as if he's trying to define life's secrets from it.

"Should I go?" Murmured, almost like you're afraid of anyone hearing it, even Felix. It hangs, golden in the hazy heat of the afternoon.

"'m not the boss of you," Felix mumbles softly, head low, again his words coloured almost with guilt. You know he will never shake the quiet shame he sometimes is hit with when he remembers the way people often perceive the relationship you two share; too close, too loyal, too imbalanced.

But you've never cared; you will never treat him differently, never want for anything but his happiness, never beat the canine allegations. One day you hope you'll convince him that's okay.

So instead of leaving, you close the textbook and stretch yourself out across his bed, laying the on your belly with your head resting at the foot, by his. Your hand rests on his head, running your fingers through his hair.

Felix breathes out a lung full of smoke. He doesn't look at you. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes. The moment is a quiet one, tension thick and choking and full of things neither of you can talk about.

It's the strangest afternoon you share in a long while, one full of silence and the slow, mind numbing sound of pages being turned and the scratch of pen against paper.

"I'm gonna get ready to go out tonight," you say softly, finally breaking the silence when the courtyard outside is every shade of gold and orange in the sunset. Felix just hums in acknowledgement from his desk, "Fi?"

"Yeah," he huffs, dismissively, still looking at his notes. You've got the file in one hand, doing up the buttons of the shirt you'd forgone in the afternoon heat of his dorm room, but had to wear back to your own.

"You want me to text Oli?" You watch him grow tense at the name alone.

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know," he mumbles, almost forcibly nonchalant, despite the hard line of his shoulders that hadn't been there moments ago. Then, as if to clear the moment, he sits up straighter, turning to you in his desk chair with a look of determination in his eyes, "India still into me do you think?"

"I know India's still into you," you can't help but snort, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Would you be totally cut up if I -" he doesn't even need to finish before you're rolling your eyes.

"She'd be thrilled," but your smile softens a little, even as you shake your head with exasperation, "she's all yours, Fi."

Perhaps it's the fondness with which you acquiesces to his arguably selfish request that makes him take in the full exchange that had just passed. Felix takes a moment, tension and expression dropping as he turns pensive for a moment, unable to look you in the eyes. After a beat, you turn to the door, fully intending on letting the moment pass, but you hear Felix stand.

He doesn't say anything as he approaches you, still wearing that rather grim, thoughtful expression, but he wraps you up in a hug. He holds you as close as he's able, and after a beat of surprise, you gently drop the file to wrap your arms around him in return.

I love you. I'm sorry. All the tension from the afternoon drains away in this hug, in him pressed against you, leaning into you, breathing deep and even and steady. Pressing your face against his shoulder, you give him a brief kiss against his warm, golden skin, and hope he can feel your smile too.

The hug breaks, but still he holds your face for a long moment. He's smiling again. I love you. Thank you. He kisses your cheek quickly.

"I'll catch you at the King's Arms, yeah?"

"'course, Fi," you assure him with a warm smile of your own.

Back in your own dorm, that single moment of warmth unfortunately can't overwrite the entire afternoon of sickly tension. Looking at Oliver's name in your contacts, you frown. You should text him, invite him, Felix told him he would -

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know."

You don't text Oliver.

Annabel also isn't at the King's Arms that night. Of course you know why, the answer sits across from you with his arm around your not-girlfriend, but part of you still kind of feels bad for if the sweet redhead ever finds out.

"What are you sulking about?" Farleigh's smug voice in your ear, Farleigh's arm around your shoulder, Farleigh's cigarettes you keep stealing, Farleigh who you've tucked yourself up against for the night.

"'m not," you try insisting, frowning at the lighter that's clearly out of fluid and refusing to relight your cigarette. He gives your shoulder a squeeze.

"You sure, Peter Pan? Where's your shadow?"

"You don't give a shit about Oliver," you snap a little too quickly, both frustrated by the situation you're trying to ignore, and the useless lighter, but Farleigh reads right through it and practically cackles. Still, he wraps his other arm around you and squeezes you against his side with glee, even as you try to protest.

"Ooh~" Farleigh teases, poking your side with a wide, fond smile, "trouble in pauper's paradise?"

"That's fucking mean," you rib him none too gently, but he actually snorts with laughter. The lighter still won't bloody well start.

"I feel like you're fucking edging me with that lighter, fuck," Benji, from Farleigh's other side, smacks your lighter out of your hands and holds out his perfectly working one.

"Thank you, Benny, that was pissing me off," Farleigh says with a satisfied smile, his laughter having died down. You, finally take a draught on your cigarette, grateful for the warmth, and the nicotine as it hits.

"Could kiss you, Benj," you finally let yourself smile, "someone remind me to get a new lighter," you add, leaning across Farleigh without hesitation to plant a kiss squarely on Benji's lips after he'd wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, teasingly at you at your comment.

"We'd fascinate psychologists," Farleigh chuckled, but his voice is warm and fond, and Benji turns back to his conversation with Alicia and Jake on his other side once the moment had passed.

"Probably," comes out distracted, however as your teasing mood drops and you look to your phone. Should I have called Oliver? But when you look up, across the table, you see warmth and fondness in the way Felix looks at India, enraptured by whatever story she's telling. With one arm around her shoulders, he lets her distractedly play with his other hand, leaning into her, all attention on her. Making her feel like the centre of the universe, the way only Felix knows how to do. India glows in a way you've never seen before, lighting up under his direct affection, beautiful and elated, maybe even a little bit flustered.

There's not even a hint of jealousy at the sight of them. All you know is how much you love your friends, and how happy and beautiful they look together in this moment. There is contentment, satisfaction, like a job well done... Farleigh might have a point about the psychologists.

Speaking of - Farleigh grabs your chin and tilts your face to look at him. Immediately you smack his hand away.

"Stop that! What is that? What are you doing?" You squawk at him immediately. Again, he grabs your chin, frowning, intent upon gazing intensely into your eyes. This time you let him.

"I'm figuring out what this is," he mutters like he's deep in thought. You let your gaze roam for a moment, hoping he gets whatever this is out of his system. You wiggle your chin in his grip, and it's enough to prompt more of an explanation, "if you're not sulking, then I don't know this -" rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away.

"Fuck man, I'm not sulking," you insist, remembering your cigarette and taking another puff, glad it hadn't gone out.

"You've been weird lately; angry - ranting," Farleigh made sure to stick to your cover story despite having seen through it the minute you'd tried out the other week, "you and Felix have had some weird vibes," he takes the cigarette from you, and you settle yourself against him further.

"Fi and I always have weird vibes," you pointed out with a little smirk, keeping your voice as low as he was, glad he didn't feel the need to publicise this discussion too broadly. Farleigh snorted, but shook his head.

"You, sure," Farleigh conceded, handing back the cigarette, "but," he leans in, leans into your with a knowing, dangerously sharp smile, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, "Felix has been weird about you," his voice slides along the word weird as his hand slides up your thigh, as if to prove a point, before sitting back. Giving you a moment to recover, Farleigh sits back up like nothing happened, letting go of your thigh and taking a drink. He gives you a squeeze, arm still around your shoulders, "or hadn't you noticed?" Back at regular conversation levels like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Across the circle of your friend group, Felix's gaze momentarily flicks to you as India's in the middle of some kind of enthusiastically rambling. Gaze briefly passing to Farleigh, he then looks back and raises an amused eyebrow in silent question. The smile you give him is instinctive and warm, a silent answer. He mirrors the smile for the briefest moment before his attention returns to India.

Of course you'd noticed the change.

"Of course I've noticed." Your gaze dips; you become fascinated with your drink for the moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever comment you knew Farleigh had coming.

"Surprised he hadn't put you on a leash."

You elbow him hard in the ribs. He retaliates by flicking you repeatedly in the forehead. Its a blurry mess of frustration and elbows after that, pulling hair and wet fingers in ears and trying to sink nails into each other's soft sides, all squabbling and cursing and insults not made for polite society.

"- you put your fingers near my mouth I'll bite them off!" You holler even when he's got his arm around your neck in a kind of choke hold, which is around the time the two of you are pulled away from each other.

The rest of the table is staring at you both, while you and Farleigh straighten yourselves up, a little flustered at the many incredulous stares you were getting.

"The fuck was that about?" Felix, of course, is the one to voice the question the others all had. You look to Farleigh, his expression mirroring yours; no malice, no frustration, like nothing had happened.

"Bit of horseplay," you shrugged easily, meeting Felix's eyes, tone bright and chipper. He looked unconvinced.

"Just two dudes being guys," Farleigh's tone was light and breezy as he settled back into the booth, and you alongside him, letting him once more sling an arm around your shoulders.

"Guys bein' pals," you agreed with a nod. Farleigh pats your head for emphasis. The group thankfully decides that they've had enough of the weird moment to go back to their own conversations. Felix was the last to focus back on the conversation he'd been having with India and Alicia, narrowing his eyes as he looked between you and Farleigh.

Before turning his attention entirely away, his gaze fixes on you. There, in the very slight tilt of his head, the look in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens, you see his concern for you. You lean your head back on Farleigh's shoulder and let yourself relax, let yourself give him a genuine, reassuring smile. It's enough.

Farleigh clears his throat.

"It was either that or tell him you said that," you explained under your breath, to which Farleigh nodded in understanding, hand running up and down your shoulder idly as he reached across the table for the communal fries, bringing the basket closer to you both.

"And you don't want to tell him because you know I'm right," Farleigh is back to smug, but at least this time you can join him in his amusement.

"No, but I'm humouring you because I'd like to talk about how good I'd look in a collar," picking up a chip, you eat it with a grin as Farleigh rolls his eyes. After a moment, however, he comes back with this contemplative look, still amused, but eyes narrowed and searching like they had been earlier. You eat another chip and tell him to put his eyeballs back in his head, "seriously, quit looking at me like that, Farleigh -"

"He has been weird-weird," Farleigh says like he's agreeing, though you tell him you have no idea what the fuck he means. Taking a deep breath like he was ramping up to something, Farleigh looks across the group to Felix, before looking back at you with a kind of put-upon smile, "I say this only as someone who's know you for like, more of my life than I'd like to admit -"

"I love you too, go on."

"- so I kind of think that it might not look that different to anyone else, like they don't know it's not your usual brand of weirdness," he wets his lips, giving you a look like he's not even sure if he's meant to be saying this, like he might be letting you in on a secret you're not supposed to know, "he's been really hot and cold with you."

Of course you'd noticed.

"I slept with Oliver."

Beside you, Farleigh appears to go through all five stages of grief at once.

"You make it very hard to be friends with you sometimes," he says, shaking his head. You, however, are focusing on how many chips you can eat in a rush rather than think too much about the topic at hand.

"That mean," you tell him flatly, mouth full of potatoes, "you're being mean again."

"You chose to sleep with Oliver, that is a choice you made; I'm gonna be mean about it, you've earned it, you know you have -"

"Remember," you gave him a shit-eating grin, "how the next time we went drinking after that costume party, you spent a full half hour in the beer garden ranting about how stupid you thought Ollie's costume was," you ate another chip while Farleigh narrowed his eyes at you with barely concealed contempt, but you powered on, "and it turned out that you thought the costume didn't do him justice, which then -" your grin grew wider, "became you ranting about how his eyes are too blue, and why does he dress like that when we can all see his arms, imagine if he wore a shirt that fit!" You gleefully recounted, even as Farleigh's mouth flattened into a thin line, like he's bitten on a lemon, but he couldn't look you in the eyes.

"Hey, that's not what I -"

"And then -!" You spoke over him, "you forgot where you were and tried to take an angry nap in the bushes."

"I don't -" a flustered Farleigh squirms for a moment in his seat, unable to look at you, "remember that, and," he turned a faux serious look upon you, "if you tell anyone I said that, I'll tell them you're lying."

"I'm just saying," you shrugged, "don't act like you don't know part of the reason why I slept with him."

"Fine," Farleigh rolled his eyes, allowing his flustered frustration to ease. After a moment of contemplation, of watching Felix, he hums quietly, thoughtfully, "that can't be it, right?"

"What can't be it?"

"If Felix was going to start being jealous it wouldn't be over Oliver."

"See, that's what I thought."

"So he is jealous?"

"I don't know," you say quietly, still not quite sure how to feel about it; Felix had taken the news fine when you'd told him, he hadn't seemed any different, but of course there'd been a change. Why now?

"That's really stupid of him," Farleigh finally says, dismissively.

"It is, isn't it?" As you try and laugh, your heart's not in it. You look at your phone again, another wave of that strange discomfort that you'd been feeling lately washing over you again. You can't stay.

Everyone's surprised by your early departure as you say your goodbyes. You cite the need to study hard tomorrow, giving hugs and kisses as you start the short journey back to your dorm. Felix murmurs that he loves you and a cheeky thanks in your ear and you know he's talking about India. You kiss his cheek, and then you head off.

Nothing had seemed off when you'd told Felix.

"You look like you're about to burst into song; what happened to you?"

"Something happened!"

"Am I meant to guess?"

"No, no- I mean, like how nothing happened between me and Ollie a few months ago; something happened!"

"Something happened between you and Ollie?"

"The something that didn't happen last time -"

"I don't remember last time, Y/N, you're being so cryptic, I love that you're excited but -"

"Yes, Ollie and I slept together. Finally!"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"No, good 'oh', promise!"

"Didn't sound like a good 'oh', Fi; is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course, sorry Y/N, I promise, I'm just... I don't remember you being this excited about a hook up... and I don't think I was excepting it to be Ollie, you know? Was he really that good?"

"Let me put it this way, it was the kind of good that none of our other friends would believe if I told them."

"Fancy that, Ollie knows what he's doing; good for you."

"Great for me."

It wasn't particularly vulgar or explicit, you'd had far more in depth conversations about your various hook ups, Felix had seemed as happy for you as he always did with these kinds of stories. But he'd started looking at Oliver different, you'd noticed it. That too is when he became the clingiest. Farleigh was right; on nights out with Oliver around, Felix threw out any pretence of subtlety or person space. Felix acted like your boyfriend.

But then, any other night, any other group situation, it was like any other day. Sometimes he'd barely even glance at you. Hot and cold.

You're so in your head on the walk home that you barely register someone sitting at your door until you all but trip over them.

Annabel.

She'd been crying.

"Fuck you." Is how she greets you.

"What are you doing here?" A twinge of pity, a twinge of guilt, to see her obviously distraught at your doorstep. She gets unsteadily to her feet, swearing at you again. Reaching out to steady her, she surprises you by lunging at you, grabbing you.

"You were there, weren't you? With the rest of them," Annabel's gripping your collar, makeup smeared with tears and eyes red-rimmed, "with him," lips still inches from yours, her gaze unfocused but searching, "I can fucking smell it on you- you- you and rich boy-" but she stops for a moment, expression falling to confusion, "Farleigh?"

"Annabel -" you ease her hands off of your collar, partly confused, but mostly pitying.

"Why do you smell like Farleigh?" She sounds almost like a lost child, refusing to let go of your hand as you pulled out your keys. God she looks so helpless, tears still welling in her eyes, vodka bottle mostly empty by her feet.

"Why are you so good at telling what Farleigh smells like?" You countered with, swinging the door open. At this, some of the righteous indignation fires up in her again, flouncing into your room.

"You all went to the same boarding school, you've all got these same habits, and same but different scents you cling to," she's scowling at your dresser as you picked up the vodka bottle and brought it into your room, shutting your door. You watch her for a long moment, see how she analyses everything you have there, perfumes, colognes, makeup, skin care, little bits of paper rubbish - she picks up a bottle and flicks off the lid, not caring where it landed amongst the rest of the things there. When she sprays it, she seems to almost relax amongst it's mist. Of course. It's Felix's favourite, Felix's scent as she'd so aptly described it, for when he'd spend the night.

"Of course you have his too," she says faintly, almost derisively.

Allowing your attention to finally drift from her, you start getting ready for bed, heading to your closet to hang up your jacket.

"You all need to mark your territory," she spits, out of your peripheries, you see her move away from your dresser and pick up her vodka again, "need everyone to know who you own, who we all belong to -"

"Anna, that's not -" you sighed, unsure of where any of this was going, but not liking it either way. As you search your drawers for pyjamas, you felt her gentle hands on your hips. Jumping at the sudden touch, when you spin she braces herself against the drawers with hands either side of you, while your hands become trapped, the last bit of resistance between her chest and yours.

"I smelled like you both for weeks," she murmurs, gaze roaming your body, almost hungry, landing back on your lips, "you remember that? I should- I should- should have been fucking sickened," she admits, voice a low whisper, the hunger turning needy, turning into almost a whimper, "the things I want you both to do to me make me sick to my stomach," her lips inch closer to yours, shared breath, heat in the air, "of course I know what the fuck you all choose to smell like, I can't get it out of my fucking head," you should lean away but there's something intoxicating about her rage, her desperation, her desire, "Our Annabel, that's what he'd called me, what you'd -" and she kisses you, vodka still wicked and bitter on her tongue, all but panting into your mouth as her hands find your hips again.

But it can't continue, you can't let this go on. As you lean back to free your arms, to hold her back, she takes advantage of the opportunity to slide her hands beneath your shirt, cold and nimble against your belly -

"Could've been my Felix -" she mumbles, as if in a trance, eyes hazy and full of both tears, like she was looking into a memory. The minute her fingers find your fly you grab her hands firmly. It takes you a moment to regain your composure, to remind yourself that she wasn't in her right state of mind, that she probably didn't even know what she was doing or saying -

My Felix flares bright and hot and possessive in your mind. My Felix.

"Ow," Annabel's noise of pain brings you back to reality, but thankfully it seems the shock to her system brought her back too. Looking down at your vice-like grip on her wrists, she looks back at you as you let her go, embarrassment in her eyes as she perhaps realises some of what she'd been doing.

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight, Anna," still, your voice is gentle. She huffs an embarrassed little laugh, starting to sniffle again. Again, you remind yourself that this poor girl just got her heart broken by your best friend, and decided to deal with that by drinking an entire bottle of vodka. You'd committed to showing her some compassion tonight.

"I know." The tension drops, and she just leans her head forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder. You can't help but hug her, feeling the heavy way she sighs as you're giving her a reassuring pat on the back. The two of you stay like that for a very long few minutes until you hear her start crying again.

"Do you wanna borrow some pyjamas?" You ask softly, and feel her nod.

The rest of the night is quiet after that, taking care of this distraught young woman who got her heart broken by your best friend. It reminds you of nights you'd spend with Venetia back at Saltburn.

Annabel sits on your bathroom counter patiently, ankles crossed, watching the way you focus as you wipe off her makeup with meticulous care. When you take off her necklace, you coil it delicately on top of the nice clothes she'd been wearing, now sitting on top of her shoes by your door. At first she tries to wave you off when you offer to brush out her hair -

"There's -" she hiccups; the full bottle of vodka has finally hit her, but still she tries to shake her head, "too much hairspray, it'll be a hassle -"

"I'll be gentle," you told her softly, assurance in your eyes and a warm smile on your lips, "if you'll let me." Annabel melts under that gaze, sitting in borrowed pyjamas, face clean, cross-legged on your bed in the lamp light. You treat her with the gentlest care, brushing out her hair while you can still hear her occasional sniffles; she sits as primly as she's able, only apologising once at the start for it's length. You assured her it's fine.

"You scare me sometimes," Annabel mutters into the quiet, voice watery. For a moment, you pause.

"Me?"

"Both- both of you. You and Felix," she sniffles again, "and Farleigh too now, I guess," you can tell she swallows thickly, voice catching in her throat. When she tries to dip her head, she can feel the way you're still holding gently, still working, and she apologises faintly. Carefully, quietly, giving her space to organise her tipsy, upset thoughts, you continue to brush out her hair.

"Never met anyone like you, you know? Didn't think people like you guys existed. You're always everything; the most without even trying," she takes a deep breath, but it's undercut by a faint sob that's almost a chuckle, "I kind of think you don't even know what I mean- you especially, you know?" You... don't.

You brush, only giving a faint apology, but all she does is fidget, the words spilling unrehearsed from her, things she's clearly been bottling for far too long -

"Felix is everything everyone wants, and you're everything everyone wants him to be," she says it so forlornly, "the sun and it's fucking warmth," then, almost disgusted as she spits it under her breath, "I think about how he's never going to fuck me the way he looks at you while he's shitfaced, how sick is that?"

With a few more strokes her hair is brushed out, and without even thinking you start to braid it. Annabel's dissolved into tears again, her face in her hands, but you're just careful not to tug on her hair too hard as her whole body shakes with them.

"He never gave a proper shit about me, did he?" Annabel sobs as you're tying off the braid. The minute it's done, she turns and throws herself into your arms, sobbing against your chest, "I'm just another fucking girl to him!"

"He still loves you as a friend, I'm sure; you know how Fi is-" you pet her shoulder carefully as she clutches your shirt for dear life.

"I don't wanna be his fucking friend! I gave him my fucking heart and now he's probably got his dick in that slag India, who said she was my friend!" Spitting her words with fury, with venom, she looks up, but only sees a look of pitying apology in your eyes; she's probably right. Lip curling, she throws herself back on your bed, hands covering her face once more, "he doesn't fucking care," she groaned, fury turning poisonous with resignation, "I know he doesn't care; if I thought he truly cared I would have fucked Oliver -"

"What?"

"- Felix is so fucking fickle, god, seems like he doesn't even care about Oliver anymore, I should have- should have -" she continues on, but breaks down crying again. Getting off the bed, you leave for the common room for half a moment, filling it with water.

"Drink this," you instruct, sitting next to Annabel on the edge of the bed. She scowls, but follows your orders easily, even if she can't properly look you in the eye. The water seemed to have at least helped, as her crying quiets down as you refill the glass in your bathroom sink.

"I feel like shit," she mumbles, watching you come back into the room and place the cup on her bedside.

"Well you look pretty," you tell her teasingly, trying to lighten the mood even a little as you gently pinched her cheek. She does not appear to find the humour in the moment. Still, you turn off your lamp and climb over her into the bed, "please don't throw up in my bed or on my floor."

"I know where your bathroom is."

The two of you kick off the neat duvet but pull the thin, luxurious sheet over you both.

"Thank you..." it sounds begrudging as she says it. You tell her it's no stress, sitting up for a moment in order to open your window a crack, let a breeze in overnight, but still hear her when she says, "you're a bad friend."

Still sitting, you take a deep breath, sighing as a silhouette in the moonlight.

Annabel is more astute than you possibly gave her credit for in this state; amongst all her felt injustices, she'd never once asked about how you felt about Felix fucking India, your well established not-girlfriend. Because somehow she knew, perhaps even that you gave your blessing. You'd never been a cruel person as long as you could help it, but you'd made peace with your priorities too long ago to start apologising for them now. So yes, you'd taken Annabel in for the night, but she knew in her heart that you were partially at fault for her despair in the first place. You both knew.

Enabling Felix was never really about making anyone else happy.

"I know."

Something about your admission seems to be enough for Annabel, however. When you lay back down beside her, she curls up against you, tucks herself all along your side, arm around you, head on your chest.

The next morning, Annabel moves silently around your dorm. When you wake up, all that's even left of her presence is the empty cup of water on your bedside. No kind of note, no text, she'd made sure she didn't even wake you before leaving.

Fucking Christ, what a bloody week did yesterday feel like, is all you can think as the mid-morning sun slashes through your barely parted curtains and paints your chest with light.

You consider sleeping in, consider that you'd definitely earned it after yesterday, but then your phone starts ringing. It's Felix. He sounds grim.

"Hey, can you get over here? We need you."

[bruisedboys]

mal wants to talk about sirius!!!!!!!

sirius black!!!!! who loves to tease shy!you. loves to see you get flustered and watch you stammer because he’s the biggest flirt known to man. but!!!! if anyone else is making you uncomfortable or thinks ur strange for being so shy. he’s defending you to the ends of the earth because he loves you for how shy you are. you’re perfect to him tbh.

omg I love this sm aerial im not kidding. I got too excited and wrote this wholeass 1k word thing in one day .. oopsies

fem!reader 1k words

“Angel!”

You know it’s Sirius before he even steps into your line of vision. He’s got a voice that’s recognisable anywhere. Silky, rough around the edges, so undeniably attractive that you melt just hearing it.

You look up from your drink to find your boyfriend swaggering over to you, looking pretty as ever in his silk black button up and ripped jeans that make him look like a rockstar. He’s been gone for all but ten minutes and you almost die at the sight of him.

“Hi,” you say quietly. Your lips mindlessly pull up at the sight of him, a sweet smile reserved only for him.

“Hi, darling.” Sirius throws his arm over your shoulder, smelling of all things him. Expensive cologne, cigarettes and ash, fruity shampoo. His jewellery jingles and sways as his side presses into yours, his hip pushing into the dip of your waist. “How’re you doing?”

Upon his arrival, you’re doing terribly. Hot in the face, tingly skin, a heat in your chest that only ever goes away when Sirius does. Which is almost never.

“I’m okay,” you lie quietly, knowing full well he’ll call your bluff.

Sirius turns his head to look at you and his face is so close to the side of yours that he’s almost kissing you. He seems to notice this, too. He ducks his head to press his mouth to your skin, right in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. His lips are warm and soft as melted butter.

“Yeah?” He asks, a murmured sound pressed into your skin. Goosebumps erupt and spread and suddenly you’re ten times hotter. Sirius tends to have that effect on you.

“Y-yeah,” you breathe, barely remembering what you were talking about in the first place.

Sirius laughs but it’s far from condescending. It’s boyish, nearing on shy, but shy and Sirius never go together in the same sentence.

“You’re burning up, my love,” he says, almost pitying. You want to hit him for it but he’s too pretty and too lovely. He straightens up and shifts so he’s facing you, his arm dropping to your waist.

You grow impossibly shyer. He’s too close. You’re face to face with his chest, and of course the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, exposing silver chains sitting atop his toned chest. You stare and stare and pretend it’s because you’re avoiding his eyes.

“It’s your fault,” you say, trying for irritated but it’s hard when you can barely get your tongue around the words.

Sirius really laughs at that, loud and startled as he throws his head back, curls bouncing and tumbling, his Adam’s apple bared to you. Suddenly you’re extremely dizzy. You grab Sirius’s bicep for support.

When he’s finished laughing he drops his head to meet your eyes, his free hand moving to cup your cheek. With his other arm still curled around your waist, he pulls you closer, chest to chest. Your drink gets crushed between your bodies but you hardly care.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he says, and he actually sounds sincere. Well, more sincere than usual. His eyes bore into yours unabashedly. “Really, I am.”

You find yourself shrugging, brushing off his apology because really, you don’t care all that much. Actually, you kind of love being teased by him. Not that you’d ever admit it.

“It’s okay,” you say, and you meant it. You slide your hand down his bicep and to his forearm. You give him a squeeze there for good measure.

Sirius grins lopsidedly, looking at you like you’re made of gold. “You’re cute,” he says, all smiles as he pats your cheek twice. “Do you want to—?”

“Oi! Sirius!”

Somebody, James you suspect, is yelling at Sirius from the table, where he’d been playing cards up until now. Sirius groans, long-suffering, and twists in your hold. You peek around his shoulder to see what the problem is.

“What?” Sirius yells back, though yelling is totally unnecessary when the table is only just across the room.

“Stop feeling up your girlfriend and get back over here,” James says with a smug grin. “You’re turning her into a human furnace.”

You know he means it jokingly but it still makes you want to curl in on yourself. You love James, you do, but you’re yet to get used to his teasing.

“Fuck off, Prongs,” Sirius says, sounding awfully bored. But when he turns back to you he’s got this look in his eyes, kind and sweet, and his mouth is turned down in what you think is a frown.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, kindly, a stark contrast to how he spoke to his best friend two seconds ago. “He’s …” Sirius sighs. “Well, he’s drunk. I think.”

You know what he means. James is so perky and boisterous you wouldn’t be surprised if he was completely sober right now, despite his obnoxious comments and his roaring laugh from behind Sirius.

“It’s fine,” you say, because it is, and Sirius shouldn’t have to apologise for his friend not understanding you like he does. “It’s James.”

Sirius looks relieved at your lack of upset. “I know,” he moans, throwing his head back yet again. “I hate him so much.”

You giggle and try not to stare too hard at his pretty neck. You think he catches you staring but thankfully doesn’t comment on it. Instead he releases his arm from around your waist, hand moving to push a lock of hair from your face. His fingers curl around the back of your neck and stay there.

“Do you want to get outta here?” He asks. “Get some food or something?”

“Sirius,” you chide, though you find yourself hopeful at his offer. “We can’t just leave. Aren’t you having fun?”

Sirius pulls a face. “No.” No sooner has he finished speaking do his lips curl into a sly smirk, and you just know he’s about to make some suggestive comment that’ll have you weak in the knees. “Besides, I can think of other ways we can have fun at home. Just us two.”

You flush something awful. Hot cheeks, goosebumps all over, the whole package. It gets worse when he dips his head so his mouth is a hair’s width from your ear, his hand gripping your shoulder. His scent is intoxicating.

“It doesn’t involve clothes,” he whispers.

You just about pass out.

[catfern]

cowboy!ellie headcanons

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

music: roses are falling - orville peck

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fingering (briefly), drunk sex-ish, guns??, yearning and just sappy shit mainly im in a vulnerable state

an: this is shit brainrot bc i've played too much rdr2 and i want ellie to let me ride her cowgirl style. this took me for-fucking-ever because i got acrylics and dropped my wpm from 108 to 67. also if i put out a poll asking what fic to post next would people vote

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✷ cowboy!ellie having the most pornographic, velvet-laced southern accent known to man. drawling out words in a whisper, that reassured wit sitting in her throat with a lopsided smirk. she’s such a tease, knowing how it gets to you, that ‘c’mon, sweetheart, you gonna make me wait f’you?’ after she trots ahead, glancing back at you under the wide brim of her hat. please, trying to make eye contact with ellie after a long day of riding (ifykyk), seeing just a glance of the veins in her neck, beads of sweat sitting in the little crevices as she leans down to her saddle bag. god, her hands!! and she looks at you, that knowing impatience and ‘okay there, darlin’?, and you can’t look at her, your head swimming and drowning in the molasses of her voice and too focused on the up, down, up, down, up trot of your horse.

✷ setting up camp for the night, bed mats a good distance away from each other, and you wake up, fire dying, moon high, and ellie is still awake, hands covered in dirt and ash and rust from her old revolver that she cleans too occasionally. the gentle scratch of charcoal on parchment, her body hunched over, protective like a creature, and when you call out to her, she TOSSES her journal into the dirt like it burned to touch. if the moon wasn’t so faint, you’d see the uncharacteristic blush fleeting across her cheeks, but too quickly, she tells you to go back to sleep, she’s just staying up to take care of the fire. you listen in a haze, and ellie tears out the five, maybe 6 pages?? of rough sketches, harsh lines etching out your body, your smile, your eyes, and stamps them into the cooling embers of the campfire.

✷ if we’re talking historically accurate cowboys, ellie is definitely the type to believe in dinosaurs!! it’s this new, fresh, science fad and everybody laughs at her for it, cause omg?? giant lizards?? nah!! but ellie is so adamant, reading every paper and pamphlet on the subject that she can get her hands on (assuming she can even read lets be so real), and she’ll tell you about it! small, reluctant meanders from more important topics, at first, but you’re kind and you listen to words either of you barely understand, and sure it’s a little bit boring, but she’s happy, and for some reason she makes it incredibly dynamic, crash coursing you on lizards that evolved (a buzz word in all her pamphlets) into BIGGER lizards.

✷ cowboy!ellie, the horse whisperer. she doesn’t teach you to ride, but you’ve never had a way with horses, cantankerous and rough, so you need a lil bit of assistance. ellie will take the lead, letting you rock behind her on your horse, your arms draped around her like common occurrence, and she’ll turn, ‘see? be gentle, she’ll listen. you’re a team, y’know?’

✷ ‘she just likes you more than me.’

✷ her laugh is boisterous, loud, it sounds like it belongs amongst the hills and caverns, like wind against rocks, ‘no one likes me more than you, flower.’

✷ one day, you’re just passing through a small town, nothing more than a few shops and scattered farm houses, and ellie spies an outlaw poster, poorly tacked to the community bulletin board. it’s her, badly sketched, sure. her chin is way too big, nose a bit askew, but it’s definitely her. and you laugh as she presses you frantically, ‘i don’t really look like this? do i?’ and it’s got some ridiculous nickname that definitely over-inflates her ego, ‘ellie 'longshot’ williams (no one has called her that ever) that she’ll parade it around like a medal

✷ ‘aw, love, do you need some help shootin’? don’t call me long shot for nothin’.’

✷ you’d get a bit vulgar, a bit defensive because, yeah, maybe ellie is actually good at shooting, and you could benefit from her teaching. but that fucking nickname, lording over your head with that lilt in her voice, and the childish, goading smile, you’d tell her to shove it somewhere the sun don’t shine and just pray luck guides your bullet.

✷ your now-so-serious scowl eats at her, so ellie has to swallow her boyish pride and shut up, simply falling behind you. gently tapping your shin with her boot to get you to adjust your stance, her hands stretching out over yours to feel out the barrel of the foreign pistol. they’re rough, calloused, unmade for this sort of gentle gesture, but you welcome the heat that they give. with a soft push and pull, like a tide she moves your fingers, your hands, to hold the gun well. her voice is a whisper as she instructs, ‘don’t hold it so loosely. stronger grip helps aim.’ 

✷ she’s shaking in her boots. a moment like this, tender, with you is scarcely shared. the closeness burns her chest as she feels you breathe against her, skittish but assured, ellie’s finger snaking around yours to settle on the trigger. you go to fire, and the recoil sends you backwards in a shock, ellie having to move her hands from the gun to your waist to keep you steady. you laugh something coarse, leaning back into her without a thought. adrenaline intimacy.

✷ ‘okay, maybe y’need a few more lessons before you get it right.’ it’s a selfish thought, but it cements ellie in that moment, with you just in her reach, and her revolver. she’d clean it for you.

✷ cowboy!ellie doing stupid shit, like taking longer detours to show you the scenery, the stretching fields and great mountain waterfalls, stopping to pick wildflowers (she’s a sap), or taking the extra care to saddle up your horse for you, securing the girth and not letting you touch it because ‘i don’t need you slippin’ on me.’ she takes care of you, out on the road, it’s not an official thing, but you’re off limits.

✷ ellie is kind, but sex with her isn’t. the first time, she’s terribly drunk, playing away her night in a saloon, at a poker table (she’s losing), and you’re sat at the bar, wearing that, and it’s violently throwing her off her game, so she decides to make it known that your presence is an interruption. dragging you upstairs, she’s unkind. ‘you’re not helping my luck, looking like that.’

✷ ‘how do you need me, then?’

✷ she tastes like cigarette smoke, and bourbon, and she smells like the sleek of rain on dry dirt, and feeling her all over you is intoxicating, rough. she’s quick, her lips aren’t soft but rather, a grating possession on your skin, a feeling that swallows you, melts you down in the heat of her hands. she swears, a lot, it sounds like disbelief but really, it’s a bribe. a prayer. ‘dear god, give me this, let me have this, and i will be devout.’ it’s primal, something uncontrollable. drunk, it’s worse. she loses herself in the haze, becomes complete disregard, her fingers inside you without hearing you, just feeling you. lost in you and she keeps pounding into you simply because she’s enraptured by the feeling of you clenching around her.

[mieczyslawhale]

Pack mama stiles, season three rewrite.

Durring the four months between semesters, Stiles hangs around as derek trains jackson and issac. Smart assing his way into being better for eachother while trying to find erica and boyed. Helping Derek find real eastate in becon hills for all of them. A home for when they find erica and boyed.

Then issac goes missing and Derek nearly looses it. Stiles holds their efforts together, even hiring a private gun woman to find and protect the betas.

At the end of the day he and lydia start spending more time together. Having movie nights where they talk about the struggles and efforts. With Lydias help Stiles is directed to focus on his own sexuality. Realizing much sooner hes bisexual.

Javkson gets the news hes being moved to london and Derek practically forces him out for safety. Stiles breaks up their verbal fights and tells jackson to stay in contact, that even though jackson 'doesnt care' he'll still update him on the situation.

----

Jump to Derek and scott breaking into the vault. Derek convinced erica isnt dead even though issac said he saw her dead. He finds her body, hearing a faint pulse in her body. Hes a littke frantic and they call stiles. As stiles is breifed on what happened he thinks a second then asks Allison if she has any volt arrows that can send electrisity through her to restart her heart. After high tension arguing and stumbling Alason shocks erica making her heart stop. Shes to weak to do anything but heal. They drive her to the loft and drop her off with peter and Stiles. Stiles lays her down then forces Peter out. Once outside the loft he connects a line of mountain ash to keeo her inside and anything else outside. He doesnt explain himself as he runs to Lydia after she calls.

-----

Erica, Boyd, Issac and Cora move in with Derek. While stiles is running around dealing with finding patterns in ritual killings derek is faced with the Alphas. Hes scared and tries to throw issac out but stiles yells at derek to back off. (This is also the first time cora is meeting stiles. He just barged in without noticing her)

Stiles argues with Derek until. He admits whats going on. Leaving out that hes scared but stiles knows. Stiles tells Issac to pack a bag. As the weakest of the pack he to is worried for his safety. He comunicates as much to scott. Making his friend take in Issac for safety. Stiles tells derek what hes up against and that he wont be much help and he knows Derek wont be either with his durach problem. Its durring this conversation cora realizes they are mates. But derek hasnt told stiles about it.

------

During the lacross trip. Stiles thinks derek is dead the whole ime hes running around keeping the pack together. On the bus lydia sits with him and holds his hand as he morns now thay scott is healing. But the moment passes when he has to stop the betas from commiting suicide. A high stress situation that leaves him drained when he gets back to becon hills. Only to find derek isnt dead.

His celebration is stopped when derek becomes more withdrawled. Walking away from him and seen around school with stiles teacher. Hes pissed. Heart broken. But hes got murders and betas to worry about.

(I like to headcanon jennifer put an emchantment on derek when she touched him and seeing stiles beg for help, his mate, broke the enchantment)

[txttletale]

so when Palestine fights back by killing civilians, including children, you go: it's justified

but when Russia invades Ukraine and kills civilians, including children, and Ukraine fights back in defense, you go, Ukraine should settle for peace

and you say Israel can just stop the occupation, they have that power and then they could avoid their civilians dying by simply deciding to that, yet you don't see that the Ukraine war stop just as "easily", by Russia stopping the invasion. They invaded, they started the war, just like Israel occupied Palestine, they are the one who can stop it

I know these are two different situations but I cant help but notice how different your approaches are, like adjusting your theory according to who is attacking who.

also, you said it would be strategically impossible (im paraphrasing you) for Russia to stop their invasion, well, wouldn't it also be strategically impossible for Israel to stop their occupation.

Also, if Ukraine settle for peace (I want them to, I generally agree with your points on the topic) and Russia gains something from it (as their peace treaty will most definitely assign a lot of Ukraine land to Russia), then Russia gets the message that invading other countries is successful and a good way to go about things. I mean, obviously the peace work will begin after they settle for peace, preferably working with Russia, im just curious to hear your thoughts.

English isnt my first language but I hope you understand

volodymyr zelensky might have something to say about this comparison. obviously to be clear his comparison is fucking ridiculous, but is illustrative of a key difference--that all of the force of NATO are arrayed behind ukraine (a privilege not enjoyed by palestine) and that the government of ukraine is aligned with NATO rather than its own people--which is why it's selling everything that's not nailed down to the predatory west.

i do of course think that russia should stop the invasion! i respond flippantly to most people asking this because they rarely ask in good faith, but let me say it unequivocally--i'm a communist, i think that the fall of the soviet union was a tragedy and the oligarchic mafia state that rose from its ashes is an insult to everything it stood for. putin is a far-right anticommunist and the oligarchs that he represents are scum. in the case of russia vs. ukraine, russia is straightforwardly the agressor and it would be a good thing if russia withdrew immediately.

but when i talk about the need for a peace settlement, i'm not (no matter how much nationalists and the NATO fandom will yell that i am) advocating for an unconditional ukrainian surrender. i'm talking about the maximalist positions about 'punishing russia' and ensuring some imaginary total defeat that the NATO bloc advocate for and push the ukrainian position towards. the US and their allies have made no secret of they fact that they seek to prolong the war, use it as an opportunity to open ukraine up to US investors, and don't care about ukrainian casualties:

[1] [2] [3] [4]

& ultimately, there is the fact that i (and almost all my followers) live in the imperial core--as communists there is nothing any of us can do to push russia towards peace. that's a task for the russian communist and peace movements. what we can do, however, is obstruct and protest NATO's involvement in the war. this is what the union of ukrainian communists have said in their statement on the war:

We appeal to the Russian workers as a fraternal class, bearing all the burdens of war on its shoulders, also suffering from impoverishment, unemployment, and the elimination of fundamental rights and freedoms: seek the defeat of the bourgeois power in Russia, turn your weapons against the Russian oligarchs and their political acolytes. We are ready to fight with you to turn the imperialist war into a class war against the power of capital and for the communist revolution. We appeal to the workers of the countries belonging to NATO: To stop the threat of the destruction of humankind in the nuclear clash of imperialist war is only possible in a struggle not for abstract peace, but for the overthrow of the power of the bourgeoisie of their countries, who are waging these wars and profiting from them. Work for the defeat of the bourgeois governments and the NATO bloc in this war, put forward the task of turning the war between nations into a war between classes, turn the weapons produced by workers' hands not against the workers of other countries, but against the capitalists of your own countries, against their power.

—Union of Communists of Ukraine, On The War And The Tasks Of The Working Class

so--people in the west are powerless to do anything to prevent or weaken russian imperialism, short of supporting their own imperialist powers--which, if you care at all about human life or the working class, is robbing peter to pay paul. however, those same bourgeois western governments are the ones supporting the israeli genocide--this is a case in which the Western proletariat can and should mobilize to suppress the imperialism and colonialism of the aggressor, because they live in countries that directly support it.

of course, there are also massive differences in the actual circumstances of the relations between russia and ukraine--russia is not, for example, built on stolen ukrainian land, nor is ukraine an open-air concentration camp whose water and electricity are provided by russia only sparingly, nor has ukraine seen in peacetime regular brutal massacre, invasion, bombing, and murder as palestine does every single year of so-called 'peace' that passes between israel and palestine. the situation of 'peace' between russia and ukraine before 2022 was not one of totally intolerable one-sided massacre, as the situation of 'peace' between israel and palestine has been.

as such, there are in fact multiple parties who can pursue peace in ukraine, including parties that we, communists in the West--who are the people i blog as and for--can pressure and organize against effectively. there is only one party that can pursue peace in israel. the situation is not comparable, either on its face or in the relation the West and as a result communists in the West have to it.