#my mind going in circles and circles thinking about how like

[myownwholewildworld]

gif by @\pedrospascaled

“for emergencies only” — an oldman!joel miller drabble

main masterlist | ao3 pairing: oldman!jackson!joel miller x f!reader summary: joel has a lil' accident, but you know exactly how to help. or joel cums in his boxers a bit too early and you feed him a blue pill for endurance. a/n: uhm... yeah, hi? i promise you this fic wrote itself, i almost had nothing to do with it. i am so fucking feral over this man, can't flush him out of my system. lord have mercy... 🙇‍♀️ tags/warnings: 18+, mdni. pwp. filthy smut. joel cums in his boxers like the old man he is. mortified!joel but you make him feel good i promise <3 use of viagra. kneading the bulge, kissing the bulge, worshipping the bulge. pussy eating. face/nose riding. squirting. fingering. your slick is his hair gel (scent marking? idk). blowjob. you go cowgirl on him because the poor man can't do extraneous exercise, protect his bones. unprotected piv. creampie. age gap, no age gap, your choice. petnames. no description of reader other than afab. w/c: ~4.2k

Joel let go of a big sigh, knees cracking as he sat down on the couch. Even taking a shower was damn exhausting at his age—he preferred it when you scrubbed his back in the bath, massaged his biceps and forearms, gently squeezed his dick while the movement created rippling waves in the water.

He’d only managed to comb through his dry, silvery curls, to throw a worn shirt and some loose boxers on, before he needed to take a break. He was getting too old to go on long, extenuating patrols. Perhaps Joel should take up Tommy’s offer and solely focus on managing the construction in Jackson. He’d have more time with you that way too.

His mind was drifting away, thinking about all the things he would do to you in his free time, when his most delicious desire materialised in front of him. His precious little thing—you.

“Why are you so lonely over here, handsome?” you teased, lips curling into a sinful smile.

You lost no time, sitting beside him, snuggling up to his side. Joel’s arm draped around your shoulders instinctively, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on your collarbone.

“I dunno, someone didn’t want to join me in the shower…” he pouted slightly, a laugh tearing up your throat as you poked his ribs with one finger.

“I told you to wait for me, but you’re a grumpy old man who has no patience,” you reproached jokingly.

His eyes rolled back in exasperation, but you were right. He’d just wanted to hop in the shower as soon as he got home, ready to dust off the fatigue of the day.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, shrugging.

His hand slowly moved away from your collarbone up to your neck. Carefully, his fingers dug around your throat, just enough for you to look up at him and gape for air—the sweet pressure on your trachea making you gasp like a little fish out of the water.

“Give your old man a kiss, will ya?” he husked, bowing down his head.

You reached up to him, mouth agape, almost touching his lips. You froze there, your sight simmering with need, awaiting his permission… and when his eyes flicked with lust, you closed the distance and pressed your lips on his.

The kiss quickly became sloppy, your spit coating the stubble around his mouth. Muted, needy moans bubbled up your windpipe—an irresistible call of nature, silently begging him to give you what you wanted, what you needed.

How could he resist you? Joel simply couldn’t, especially when your hand landed on his knee and the making out session came to an end, the tip of your nose tracing his jawline before you pressed a kiss to his beating jugular and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Your palm squeezed the back of his hairy knee, slowly sliding it up his thigh whilst he manspread on the couch. His brown eyes tracked your every move, his legs’ muscles tensing as you playfully approached his groin. A pull in his soft tummy made him flinch when you reached the dip between his crotch and thigh, his cock hardening at the seductive tease.

A throaty moan rumbled through his chest when you tightly gripped the flesh of his inner thigh, thumb lazily stroking the outline of his shaft over the boxers.

“You’re a bit starved for touch today, aren’tcha?” you nudged him, lips pressed against the shell of his ear.

His cock twitched.

“And whose fault is that?” he snapped back, nerves on edge.

You simply giggled, shaking your head as your hand finally cupped his growing bulge. Gently kneaded him, massaging his aching balls over the fabric. Joel could feel the warmth of your touch seeping through the boxers, compelling him to grow bigger, harder, thicker.

Your palm rubbed against the covered length of him, then dropped to his sacks again—and, irremediably, his hips bucked up, bare heels dug in the wooden floor. He thoroughly enjoyed it when you cupped his balls like that—lovingly, languidly, exquisitely, taking the weight off him so he could find some bliss.

Seeing you so locked in on his pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips… It just added to your appeal, another reason to love you. Because he did—fuck, yes he did, with all his fucking heart.

Suddenly, you squeezed his balls a bit too harsh, holding your grip as if your life depended on him, kissing his jawline. The unexpected squash on his testicles forced a moan out of him—and something else.

A firing pulse took a hold of him, surging down from his spine directly into his balls, and inevitably his cock throbbed with releasing strength. Joel couldn’t have stopped himself even if he wanted to. He first felt the sticky warmth soaking his boxers, and his eyes quickly shot down to his lap.

There was a wet, growing spot on his underwear. He’d fucking cummed in his boxers like an inexperienced teenager—or the old man he was, despite how adamant he was to deny it—and he wasn’t even fully hard yet.

Embarrassed wouldn’t even start to cover it. Joel was fucking mortified.

His mouth ran dry, heartrate throbbing in his eardrums like a shameful cacophony. This had never occurred before—cumming way too early in his loose boxers, the proof right there for you to see, staining the grey fabric. It happened so fast, so intensely, Joel hadn’t had the time to rein in his own orgasm.

His face flushed with abasement; the tips of his ears hot as embers. Unwrapping his arm from around your shoulders, Joel leaned back, his head slacking back and resting on top of the couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his free hand tight in a fist, before a trembling sigh escaped his lips.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whispered, unable to look at you.

“Oh, it’s okay, baby,” you replied reassuringly, your tone too sweet for the circumstances you both were in. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, forcing his hand out of his face. “This just proves how much you love me, so much you can’t even resist me. It’s hot.”

Joel finally had the courage to look you in the eye, a cocked brow showing his disbelief.

“Hot? You think it’s hot I just came in my boxers with a lil’ tugging?” he repeated out loud, unable to believe what you just had said. “I’m not even hard, sweetheart. It’s… humiliating.”

You nodded to his question, your top teeth sinking in your plump bottom lip. Your eyes locked in on his as your hand travelled down his frame, your thumb stroking the obvious wet spot in his underwear.

“Mhm,” you cooed with a playful grin. “Very hot, not humiliating. And I can fix that. Fix him so we can have a good cuddle.”

“I don’t think I can…” you silenced him with a kiss before you got up from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen without another word.

A minute later you were back, towering above him with a sinful little smirk, one hand hidden behind your back.

“Open your mouth,” you requested.

“Huh?”

“Just open it for me, please?” you dragged the last word, blinking rather exaggeratedly.

Joel huffed his disagreement, but ended up obeying. His tongue slid out, patiently waiting for whatever you had in mind. With a flourish, you opened your fist to reveal a blue pill. His eyes lighted up in understanding—he thought he had run out of viagra.

“I always keep a secret stock,” you confessed, reading his mind. “For emergencies only.”

Slowly, you set the pill down on his tongue, your thumb caressing the tip of his wet muscle before you retreated to let him close his mouth. Before Joel could swallow, you bowed down to kiss him, your tongue pushing the pill down his throat with a little needy moan.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, the pill secure in his belly now. It was just a matter of time, but meanwhile…

“Let me make it up to you, sweetheart,” he growled, the taste of your sweet cunt haunting him. “You deserve to be eaten out—so thoughtful of your old man. It’s what you enjoy most, right? Having your swollen pussy drooling all over my face, leaking into my mouth…”

His words had an immediate effect on you. Joel knew exactly how to get you off—not that you needed any more encouragement. Your clit was already palpitating, your hole gushing for his attention. The promise of a good pussy eating was everything you’d hoped for after feeding him that viagra pill.

You straightened your back, ready to get started, and Joel slithered off the couch until he was sat on the floor, his achy back leaned against the bottom part of the sofa. He sat back a little, his head resting on the edge of the couch while your pants and underwear dropped to the floor.

“Someone’s eager,” he taunted when you kicked off your clothing to one side.

“Oh, that’s an understatement,” you exhaled sharply.

Joel curled one long, thick finger at you to invite you to sit on his face, and that was exactly what you did.

You knelt on the sofa, his head right between your thighs, and you anchored your hands to the back of the furniture. His warm breath fanned your pussy, a shiver running up your spine. His broad, calloused hands ran up the back of your legs, coaxing your ass cheeks apart so your slit would crack open for him.

“My sweet girl… You’re already so wet,” he tutted at you, pecking your perineum, the tip of his aquiline nose tickling your entrance. “You really like your old man, don’tcha?”

You were about to answer when Joel lapped your entire seam in one smooth motion before his mouth latched onto your pulsing clit. You sobbed audibly, head lolled back, fingers curling tightly around the cushion of the backrest. Only managing a hushed “mhm,” Joel suckled on your throbbing nub again, pulling the hood back with his tongue.

A myriad of stars danced behind your eyelids when Joel gently nibbled at your bud, his middle finger sliding in your tight hole to rub that precise spot inside your cunt. He ate you out diligently—sucked, licked, bit, flicked your clit… rinse and repeat. Your pussy fluttered around his finger, your moans louder than they should have been considering the thin walls of the house. Sensing your desperation, Joel’s finger slipped out with a pop, to quickly fill your drooling entrance with his tongue.

It was too much—deliciously so. When you thought you’d had the best head ever, Joel always outdid himself. His wet muscle thrusted in and your pussy reciprocated with stuttering squeezes on his tongue. He didn’t falter, not even for a breather—as if he was trying to pull something out of your cunt.

“Jo-Joel…” you mewled, half whimper, half prayer.

You were so drenched, you could feel a flood forming in your womb—a heap of your arousal waiting to drip into his mouth. A tight coil low in your belly with a strangling force, so intense your shut eyes were tearing up, the drops of your silent cries sliding off your temples. Joel didn’t leave a spot unattended, worshipping your puffy pussy lips, your gushing hole, your thudding clit with his tongue and teeth.

Unable to rein in your own lust anymore, you dropped one hand and fisted his hair, forcing him to stay put, still between your trembling thighs. Your body was asking to take control, to let go of the tethers of decency—not that you had much left anyway.

“Wanna ride my face, hm?” Joel muttered with a shaky laugh.

“Mhmmm,” you moaned, shaking your head yes, your bottom lip twitching.

“Go on, baby, use me,” and then he rolled your bundle of nerves between his teeth.

That was the last straw—his words, your undoing. So you did exactly that. Still anchoring his head to the couch, you rocked your hips on his face, just once. His nose traced the entirety of your slit, catching on your clit, and you whined. A second later you were completely sat on his face, almost smothering him, while you rode not only his face, but specifically his nose.

Looking down, you saw his forehead reappear when your hips moved back. Every time you glided over him, the coil tightened and the flood dropped further down in your uterus. Stilling, you circled your waist on his mouth, and then resumed the riding.

It happened too quickly. Suddenly, the dam in your pussy just gave way, and you squirted all over his face while the most wanton moan tore up your throat, your vocal chords feeling raw from so much screaming. The biggest wave—no, tsunami—of your life washed over you, your thighs quivering like crazy while you locked them shut around his head.

Joel eagerly drank everything you offered him, groaning below you like a thirsty man who had not tasted water in days. For a long minute you couldn’t control the spasms of your cunt, dripping onto his nose, mouth and chin, your slick running down his neck and wetting the neck of his shirt.

Heaving, all your muscles finally relaxed, and you dropped to one side to release Joel from the imprisonment of your thighs. A side glance at Joel told you that he was licking off your juices from anywhere his tongue could reach, and that vision made you whimper again.

“I… Uh…” you mumbled, incapable of finding the words to describe what had just happened. “That was… the best head you’ve ever given me, you handsome old man.”

“You mean the best head you’ve ever had, full stop. Right?” he joked while he planted his hands on the edge of the couch to push himself up and sit besides you, his knees loudly cracking.

You laughed, nodding vehemently as you curled up to his side. His face was still wet from your cum, so you swept off some of it for him, kissing it away. The curls freely hanging over his forehead were damp with your slick too, and just that sight made your clit throb again. Raking your fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, you combed it back with the product of your arousal.

“You don’t need hair gel if you’ve got me,” you said with a smile, and Joel tsked before letting go of a hearty chuckle.

“My personal hairdresser,” Joel quipped.

His laugh died in his mouth when your taunting hand flew to his bulge again. This time, he was extremely hard. Balls loaded and heavy, cock drumming.

“How’s my toy doing? Ready?” It was a rhetoric question, you could feel how ready he was.

“All… yours,” his words hitched, eyes darkening with a burning desire.

Without wasting another second, you knelt before him on the floor, his thighs spread open to house your frame. You couldn’t resist to lean forward and kiss the wet spot on his underwear, stealing a quick taste. Licking off the stain, you gazed up at him.

Joel was watching your every move with predatory attention, his tight fists resting to either side of him. Trying to convey calmness, but you could feel the eagerness simmering under the surface.

You buried your face in his bulge again, rubbing him over the fabric with your mouth, lips and cheeks. Kneaded him with worshipping heed, pulling the textile between your teeth, drunk with the crispy, sticky sound the wet boxers made when they unglued from his damp cock. Feeling his heartbeat, you inhaled keenly—his scent swarming your senses.

You could spend hours like this, with your face tucked away in his groin, feeling the length of him hardening against your cheek. But you were anxious to shove him down your throat.

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his old man’s loose boxers, and Joel lifted his hips off the pillows just enough for you to pull them down his legs, tangled around his ankles. His dick sprung free, swaying in front of you like a tasty lollypop. Cockhead flushed and painfully red, the vein on his underside visibly pulsing, his heavy, full balls tightened up into the base of his dick. And then the cum he’d been so embarrassed about, topping his mushroom head and sliding off his shaft.

It really was a beautiful sight. You pushed his girthy length against his soft tummy and lapped at his balls first, to then find your way up his shaft until your lips sealed shut around his angry cockhead, cleaning off all his nutty spent.

Joel groaned above you, shifting his position ever so slightly, and was gentle enough to caress your cheek with his thumb before he gave you a soft smack.

“Careful not to choke, sweetheart. Take it easy,” he growled, words dying off when you pushed him down your mouth, the hoarse curls at the base tingling your nose. “Easy does it.”

With your mouth full, you gave free rein to your instincts. Took him out completely, a bridge of saliva linking your lips to the tip of his cock, and then shoved him down your throat again. You gagged and whimpered at the same time, precum and spit overflowing from the corners of your mouth. How the end of him hit your uvula, breaching past it… it was the most elated you had ever felt.

Your pace quickly picked up, and soon enough you were bobbing your head on his lap to the point that tomorrow you’d have a stiff neck. But it would be completely worth it. Sucking him off, your tongue swirled around his leaky cockhead to then nip at it. Closing your mouth, you slid his tip over your clenched teeth and lips, making a mess of your face.

“Eaaaasy… Fuck, stop,” Joel tugged at your hair.

You had been so lost in the moment, you looked up at him bewildered. You didn’t want to stop, you could never have enough of him. But realisation quickly hit. His balls were twitching against your chin, a sign that Joel was about to lose it.

“I could have my dick in your mouth all day and night, sweetheart, but I need your pussy now,” he husked, half plea, half threat.

Joel relaxed against the couch when you got up to your feet and straddled him, your knees sunk in the pillows to either side of his legs. Reaching behind you, you grabbed at his throbbing cock, gliding it over your entire slit until it hitched in your entrance.

Biting your lip down to stop a slutty moan from coming out, you locked eyes with him. Watching his façade tumble down every time you descended on his lap was one of the most beautiful sights. So slowly you impaled yourself, taking in how Joel’s face loosened up, his hands firm on your hips—how the crows’ feet kissing the corners of his chocolate eyes would smooth out, how his cheeks would flush, how his nose would do a cute little scrunch, or how his lips would part, letting out a heavy sigh.

Joel tried to fuck up into you when you lifted your hips and you tutted at him, pinning him down so he wouldn’t move.

“Nuh-uh. I’m doing all the work tonight, baby. You just lean back and relax, let me fuck you,” you warned him, an edge to your tone advising him to refrain from complaining.

He’d been on patrol out all day—you knew how tired he was, how his old man’s bones would crack with the gentlest of moves.

“But—”

“No, no buts. If you stay still and behave, I’ll let you come inside. Be good for me, please,” you cooed, your mouth moving against his with every suggestive word.

Joel finally grunted in agreement, and the smile on your face couldn’t be wider—even your cheeks hurt. Despite how badly you wanted to say “good boy,” you didn’t press your luck. Joel was quite dominant, but you enjoyed these subtle shifts in your relationship when he was very tired. So tired you could boss him around with no reprimands.

Once he had settled down, you began riding him, his reassuring hands kneading your hips for encouragement. At first it was slow-paced, his cock lazily swallowed by your labia only half-way through. With every pump, you let him slide a little bit deeper, sweet desperation building up behind his adoring eyes.

And after a few minutes, you were bouncing up and down on his throbbing shaft with heavy, quick dives. You laced your hands behind his neck for support, your forehead resting on his, your sweats mixing. Every time he exhaled, you inhaled his needy groans, high with the passion burning between you two.

His cock filled you up to the brim, especially when he was fully seated in your crying cunt. His tip would kiss your cervix, sending firing signals up your spine, numbing your mind. He was so girthy, your inner walls parted like the Red Sea to greet him, to house him. Every time he pulsed inside, your pussy squeezed him hard—as if they were talking to each other. Joel was the perfect fit to you, in every fucking sense.

His cockhead dragged along your anterior wall, putting pressure on the exact spot that always had you gushing. You were so close to nirvana, you could almost touch the sky with your fingertips. Understanding how close you were—probably because your pussy was uncontrollably fluttering around him—Joel took it upon himself to tip you over the cliff of your pleasure. One of his hands flew to your clit, pressing tight circles on your nub as you, quite literally, jumped on him like a demon possessed—and your whole brain short-circuited right there and then.

“Come for you old man, sweetheart. Squirt all over my cock, drench my lap. Wanna feel her sing around me, milk me fucking dry until my balls are completely empty,” Joel husked against your lips, his thumb quicker on your clit now, pushing back the hood to expose your bundle of nerves to his incessant touch even more. “Can you do that for me, hm?”

You did exactly that the moment Joel stopped petting your clit and, instead, he gently tapped at it with four fingers, the squelching sound driving you crazy. The clapping of skin on skin driving you wild. You finally came, screaming at the top of your lungs, while your hips stuttered above him. Incapable of maintaining any pace now, you sat on his lap—his thudding cock buried down to the hilt in your quivering pussy, the best orgasm of your life hitting you at once.

Your entire body was quaking, your pussy flitting arrhythmically as the last squirts left your insides. Joel was throbbing inside you, grown to a point you thought he might explode. And with the last bit of energy, you clamped down on him as strongly as you could, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart,” Joel moaned loudly, head tilting back against the couch.

He pulsed one last time, and then finally filled you up. His cum flooded your pussy with long, thick ropes—so much that it was soon gushing out, mixed with your own arousal. It was warm and comforting, knowing that his seed was safe in your cunt. You squeezed once more to completely drain his balls, and he gifted you with some more drops.

You hummed in approval, so satisfied you almost felt sleepy. Joel smacked your right buttock and then hugged you around the waist, feeling your weight on him like a blanket. Neither of you moved, his cock still snug inside your pussy, your breathings loud and heavy.

“We still have a couple of hours before they serve dinner in the community hall. Can’t go anywhere in this… state,” Joel snickered, kissing your cheek.

“Gonna have to take care of this for you, ain’t I?” you whispered, batting your eyelashes at him before you grinded your hips on his lap. Your clit twitched in response, overstimulated. “I need a minute though, I feel like my whole nervous system is on fire right now.”

“Take as long as you need, sweetheart. I could be here all day right until the last minute,” he muttered, his hands gliding over the sweaty skin on your back.

“You’ll need to at least take a shower before we leave. I made a mess of your hair,” you laughed, nudging the vein on his neck with the tip of your nose.

“No, I like this hair gel better. I ain’t washing my hair.”

Your eyes shot up to him. The mere idea of him leaving the house with your slick dampening his hair, him being in public bathed in your pussy scent… while talking to others, fully claiming him as yours… Right then, you brain chemistry was changed forever.

Your clit throbbed, and you purposefully clutched around his still hard shaft.

“I’m ready again.”

[moonstruckme]

hi!! if you’re up for it could i please request a poly marauders (or really any of the marauders) x passively depressed/apathetic reader. like reader being nervous about a doctors appointment and having health anxiety but then saying “oh i don’t even know why i’m scared because it’s not like i’ll care if i die,” and the boys just being like ??? just a lot of comfort pls!! love your work btw!! (sorry if that’s kinda confusing 😖 english isn’t my first language)

Thanks lovely <3

cw: depression, reader has some passive suicidal ideation but it's from an outside perspective

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 850 words

Remus rubs your shoulder after you get off the phone call confirming your doctor’s appointment. You sink into his side like dough softening at rest. “Would you like me to go with you?” he offers. 

You hum, quiet and complaisant. “You don’t have to.” 

“I don’t mind. It’s after I get off work anyway, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So what else would I be doing but being with you?” He says it with some levity, hoping to inspire a similar feeling in you, but you don’t crack a smile. 

Instead, you sink deeper into his side, the collar of your jumper rising up to bump your chin in the process. You look like a tortoise retreating into its shell. Remus kisses your hair. 

You’ve been rather in your own head lately. Quiet, passive, not really laughing. It tears at Remus’ heart to see you so upset with yourself, but he’s not very worried. You’ll come out of it. He’ll help you. And he’ll be here with you in the meantime. Even if it doesn’t always seem like you care for him to be. 

“Do you not want me to come?” he asks, trying not to let insecurity leak into his tone. 

“No.” You finally look up at him, your sweet eyes guilty. “No, I’d like you to come. If you want to. I just, I know it’s not fun, so if you’d rather stay home…” 

Remus makes a dismissive sound, relieved. “Don’t be silly, I always have fun with you. Sweetheart, you could make the doctor’s office fun.” 

This time you hear the humor in his tone and smile. It looks like it costs you some effort. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He shushes your thanks away, going back to rubbing your shoulder. “Are you nervous?” he asks. 

You sigh as though disappointed with yourself. “Yeah. I don’t know why.” 

“That’s alright, lovely. It’s not how anyone wants to spend their time. And you always worry that something awful’s going to be wrong, but it never is.” 

“I know,” you say dully. “But I don’t get why I’m worried. I don’t even really…” 

You trail off, your mouth wincing like you wish you hadn’t said anything at all. You won’t look at Remus. 

He knows what you wanted to say. 

I don’t even really care. 

You don’t care about much these days. What you eat for dinner, how long your commute from work takes, what film your friends want to see at the cinema. But Remus thought you still cared about some things. The important ones. A heavy, sick feeling takes form in his stomach. 

“Hey,” he says softly. It takes you a few moments to look at him, but you do. You look the tiniest bit afraid. Not in the same way he is; not for yourself, only for what you might’ve revealed. “Can I give you a hug?” 

You frown, nodding like of course. Remus uses the arm already around your shoulders to bring you into his lap, your knees folded on either side of his hips. When he rubs your back, you curl forward to put your face in his neck like you’ve been waiting years to do it. 

Your warm breaths tickle against his skin. He loves you so much he thinks he could collapse under the weight of it. 

“Thank you for making the appointment,” he says, making broad, sweeping circles on your back. “It matters to me that you’re healthy, and that you’re taking care of yourself. It’s important.” 

You deflate a bit against his front. He can nearly picture you shutting your eyes, brows pinched. “Remus…” 

“I love you,” he presses his lips to the side of your head, “so much. We’re going to be old and feeding birds in the park one day, you know? I need you to be able to come sit on our bench with me.” 

There’s a prolonged silence, wherein Remus begins to worry he’s frightened you into reticence, but then, “We already feed birds in the park.” 

He smiles. “We do. But it’ll be much more becoming when we’re all feeble and grey, won’t it?” 

“You’re feeble now.” 

“Oi,” he laughs. Utterly delighted with you. “When did you get so sharp?” 

“Sorry.” Your cold nose bumps his throat. 

“That’s alright.” Remus kisses your head again, not wanting you to begin feeling guilty. “I know you don’t mean it. My sweetheart.” 

You go quiet again after that. Remus tries again. 

“So, it’s a date then? Me, you, park on the corner in fifty years?” 

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” you mumble lazily. 

“Mm, do that. See if you can pencil me in.” He rubs your back. 

“Who knows if there’ll even still be birds then.” 

Remus hums. “God, yeah. I hope there are. We’ll still be there, at least, won’t we?” 

It’s transparent, this plea for reassurance. He cringes with the audaciousness of it, worries you’ll decide now to stop sharing anything with him at all, but after a beat of quiet you sit up. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, laying a simple kiss on his lips. “Course we will.”

[l1tw1ck]

Compromised

Bottom!FTM Peter Parker x Top!Villain CEO!Masc Reader

🕸️ Word Count: 1,226 🕸️

AFAB Language Used | this *might* become a multi-chapter fic but this part won't be canon, i changed my mind after i started the second chapter and this wouldn't fit 😭 so just treat it as a oneshot

CW: Non-Con, Kidnapping, Drugging, Blood, Virginity Loss, Cunnilingus, Creampie

Peter looks up at you with blurry vision, his body bruised and bloody. He can barely move.

You rip off his mask. “Aren't you the one who works for Jameson? I always knew your pictures were too good.” You chuckle. “You are cute though.”

He's fading in and out of consciousness, he can barely comprehend your words.

“I’ll be taking you home with me.”

Peter slowly opens his eyes, still feeling dizzy and weak. He looks down and fear instantly hits him. He's completely naked and tied up. He looks around the room for anything to help him while trying to break his restraints with brute force.

The noise draws you inside.

“Yo- you-” He recognizes you. The CEO of a company that rivals Stark Industries and Oscorp.

“I have a plan for you, Parker.” You walk over to him. “I’ll let you live and I won't tell a soul about your identity. In return, you'll help me take down Stark Industries.”

“Kidnapping someone isn't really a great way to propose a partnership, you know.” He manages to keep up his persona, trying to calculate how he can get out of this.

“Well, appealing to you isn't a part of my plan. How you feel about this doesn't matter to me. You won't have a choice once my subordinate gets his hands on you.”

“Wh- what are you gonna do to me?”

You slowly untie him. “Just a little memory altering. I’d love to train you but there's not enough time…it’s too bad.” You brush his hair to the side. He tries to hit you but it's too difficult, he only grazes your cheek. You laugh at his attempt and grab his wrists. “Don't worry, I won't hurt you after today. You’ll be spoiled rotten. My special little spider.”

“No– no! Don't touch me!” He squirms around in your hold.

“I should've known a single dose wouldn't be effective enough.” You let go of him and turn to the supply cart next to him. He tries to shoot a web to stop you from whatever you’re trying to do, but only a weak spurt leaves his wrist. He then attempts to get on the ground and crawl. You ignore him and prepare his next injection. He feels humiliated as he continues to crawl towards the door. The fact that you're not even looking at him tells him that he doesn't have a chance. But he tries anyway.

He only ends up a couple inches away from where he started when you ‘catch’ him and turn him around. You use one hand to pin his arms above his head and use the other to inject a serum meant to sedate and arouse him. “Don't worry, Peter, you won't remember any of this. If that makes you feel better. I just wanna have some fun with you first.” You toss the empty syringe.

“Get- get away from me–” He tries everything he can to hurt you but his remaining strength is starting to dwindle as the serum runs through his body. You pry his legs apart and stick your head in between. You drag your tongue up his folds then lovingly suck on his dick. You bring your hands to his chest and circle his sensitive nipples. He subconsciously raises his hips and whimpers.

“No- no- no-” He shakes his head, crying. He doesn't want to lose his virginity like this, not here, not to you. “Uhn~” His toes curl. His spidey senses are going off, making it even harder to think. The drug is making the spider parts of him go haywire, it's not working properly. It's aggressively ringing all the alarm bells inside him. His webs weakly shoot out of his wrists like a deflating balloon. His head is pounding. His brain is yelling at him.

Defend yourself. Hurt them. Kill them. Call for help. Run. Give in. Give in.

Give in.

It feels so good. It feels so good.

I wanna come. I wanna come.

His hands stick to the ground, his legs spread further apart, his mouth hangs open to sing noisy, wordless praises to compliment your skill.

“Stop!” He cries out.

Don't stop. Don't stop!

Yes!

Peter gasps, his hips jerking upwards as he squirts on your face. His head presses against the floor. His body trembles. Then he calms down.

He raises his head and looks at you as you pull away from him. His eyes follow your hands as they unzip your pants. As they free your hard dick. As they direct it onto his wet pussy. Then he focuses on your cock. Your length. Your girth.

I want it.

“No-” His voice trembles. “Don't- don't put that- inside me!”

Shove it inside me. I need it. Fill me. Mold my body to fit you. Ruin me.

The head of your cock slowly breaches him. Peter’s webs shoot out like a can of silly string on its last legs. Weak little spurts continue to leave him. Both from his wrist and from his cunt. He feels weaker every time.

It hurts. It’s too big. It hurts.

“It's interesting to see how your body reacts to the drug.” You wipe the tears from his eyes. “It's too bad I won't be using it again…Although I am interested in what’ll happen once my subordinate alters your memories…maybe I’ll tell them to make you an obedient slut for me.”

Own me.

“Ple- please-” He gasps. He's not entirely sure what he's begging for. His brain is sending conflicting messages.

You lean into his ear. “Admit it, Spidey, you love how big I am and how well I fill your tight fucking pussy.”

I love it.

“I hate– ugh-” He hisses.

I'm so full.

“I’ll kill you..” He clenches his fists.

“Oh, but I thought Spider-Man didn't kill?”

“..ma- make an exception-” He loses his ability to grip, his fists come undone as you bottom out.

“Really? I’m honored, sweetheart.” You slowly pull out, stopping before you fully leave him. “You're bleeding. Guess I was too rough.” You lick your lips at the red coating on your cock.

“You're disg—uh~!” You suddenly thrust inside him and knock the wind out of him, a longer string of web leaving his body. His whimpering and gasping quickly turns into whines and moans as you fuck him. His eyes roll to the back of his head. The bandage and wound on his cheek loosens and opens up, causing blood to run down his face. His brain starts to feel like scrambled eggs.

“Doesn't it feel good, baby?”

He responds with a jumbled mess of words that are impossible to decipher. You already took a bunch of pictures of him earlier but you find yourself wishing you still had that camera with you. In this state, he's more beautiful than any of the artwork in the Metropolitan. You grab his sides, triggering the pain in his sore, bruised body. He makes a loud and erotic noise in response.

He writhes around, sobbing and trying to squirm out of your hold. He manages to say “Please–!”.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Your thrusts stop as you come inside him. You let go of him and brush the hair out of his face, then wipe his blood.

His body twitches, like a spider that's been stepped on.

[the-librabry]

FANCY SEEING YOU HERE II

- DANTE SPARDA (DMC)

Thanks for all the love on part one, much appreciated. FSYH is not finished but it’s also not fleshed out (pure brainrot) so if you have ideas you would like to see here, you’re more than welcome to comment or send an ask my way.

Happy reading!

Part one

6:57pm.

You were waiting at the front doors of a grand hotel lobby. Enzo assured that this was an intel only mission, however the heavily armed security posted on every corner had you thinking otherwise. Whoever was in there was considered a risk, and while you hadn’t known Dante for long, you doubted his ability to act tactfully.

As another man held the hotel door open for you, you politely waved your and in rejection, “Just waiting for someone, thank you.”

The man looked down your figure once more, sending you a wink before disappearing inside. You fought the urge to cringe in disgust, and looked around once more into the dark street. It was bustling with traffic as cars pulled into the valet parking, you hoped Dante would be here soon. You were starting to freeze you ass off in this thin dress, although floor length, the fabric did nothing to warm you.

A low whistle called from behind you, “Damn sweetheart, holding out on me earlier were you?”

As you turn around you can blatantly see Dante staring you down, his eyes glued to the way the dress highlights your curves. It’s not really the low cut of the dress that gets him going though (although it certainly helps) it’s the deep red colour you’ve purposely chosen to wear. The symbol alone, the idea that you’re an item is enough to make his mind jump off the deep end into his fantasies.

“Can’t show all my cards now can I?”

“Guess not,” he mutters absently, watching the way your heels clack against the stone pavement.

Once you’re close enough, you lean in, “Did Enzo send you the target details?”

Naturally, Dante reaches forth to place a hand on your waist. To outsiders you look like a couple getting comfortable, and he’s fighting to keep the act up. “Yeah, some hotshot boss man right? Has information on some demon hoard,”

“Not just a demon hoard, rumours have it that he has access to his own portal, did you read all of the report?”

Dante hums dismissively, his thumb circling your hipbone, “I was thinking about other things,”

“Like what?” You scoff.

“What’s our backstory?” He questions, eyes peering up at you.

You frown, tilting your head, “Sorry? I didn’t see a backstory in the plans,”

The man laughs, gently tugging you closer as he watches another couple walk through the doors of the hotel lobby. They nod towards each other out of curtesy, “I’m thinking we met through work friends, everyone said you were too good for me, but I, ever persistent, refused to back down,”

You laugh out of disbelief, “Are you forming our dating history? I don’t think that’s necessary, no one is going to pick up on that,”

Dante looks down at you, his expression shifting into a tense furrow, “They are going to catch us in an instant if we can’t blend in, I’m not risking that.”

This makes you pause, the break in his usual flirty character makes you second guess yourself. When you look over your shoulder into the hotel lobby you can see multiple partners chatting and drinking. Had Enzo set you up for failure? This didn’t seem like a usual business gathering. The fancy dress code, affluent crowd, and security made it seem more like a private gala.

“How long were you chasing me before I agreed to a date?”

Dante smirks, “Three and a half failed attempts over two months,”

Your eyebrow quirks, “Half attempt?”

The man sighs, waving his hand in distant memory, “You were drunk, I drove you home, and you kept spouting on about how handsome I was—”

You raise your hand with a scoff, “Not likely,” you tap your chin in though, “How about, I agreed to a fake date at a work function to avoid an ex boyfriend?”

Dante hummed, “A jilted lover huh?” He shuffles closer, in the name of keeping up appearances, he justifies, “Seems likely, poor guy I’d almost pity him.”

You shake your head in disbelief, you’re almost tempted to break out of his grasp but the thunk of car doors behind you signals that people are still walking past into the building. Instead of shying away you lean forward, tilting your head and completely invading his space.

You raise your hand, a manicured finger gently tracing his cheek, “Well, he was a disappointment. His ego couldn’t keep up with his performance, if you know what I mean,”

Dante feels a spark crackle down his spine, he’s pleasantly surprised by your adaptability. Most people like wouldn’t humour him for this long, and he’s starting to mourn that he’ll never experience this again.

His eyebrows furrow together in confusion. You roll your eyes, “Don’t make me spell it out for you Dante, have a little bit of taste,”

His sly smile gives him away, “I’d never disappoint you darling, promise,”

You hum, “We done now? I know I’m getting paid overtime, but I have got to get to my bed at some point tonight,”

“Can I join?” The quick response makes you slap his arm. Not wanting to humour him longer, you grab his hand and turn around. Dante falls in step with you as you walk towards the lobby doors, he props the door open, ushering you in with his other arm around your waist.

A door man greets you instantly, offering to take your coat. You smile warmly, turning your back towards him but before he can step forward, Dante intervenes by placing his body between your back and the doorman.

“Allow me, sweetheart. Why don’t you go ahead and find our table?” Dante murmurs.

You can see the doorman back off instantly from the corner of your eye. When you look over your shoulder at Dante, you can see why. His gaze looks murderous as he slips your coat off, you mentally applaud his dedication to the role.

Following his lead, you nod both to him and politely at the doorman, “Sure, don’t take too long,”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs, gently dropping a kiss on your shoulder before backing up. The slight feel of it makes you pause, a tingle remains in the spot but you refuse to make a deal of it. Instead, you look over at him once more to see him walking towards the coat room before making your way into the venue.

The person of interest tonight it Marcus Wicks, a man with some very deep pockets, and interesting ties with some unorthodox scientists. Information on him is limited, as he has done a good job sticking close to the shadows or having other informants do his work for him.

You catch sight of the man as you walk over to your table, he’s standing near the corner, surrounded by what you assume is associates chatting around him and security behind him. He looks over his shoulder to ensure they’re there before being pulled into a conversation.

Paranoid much? You look over the name plates on the table, stopping when you see yours and Dante’s. You’re not sure how Enzo managed to get you both into this venue, but you’ve learnt not to question it if it’ll save you the headache. You’ve barely just sat before the lady to your left turns to you.

“My, my that gown is gorgeous, what a beautiful colour,” she gushes.

You smile politely. “Oh, thank you, you’re too kind. I could say the same about you,”

The lady waves her hand, “Oh, this old thing. I didn’t even bother buying a new dress, I’ve been to so many of these things by now, they’re starting to get boring. I’m glad to see a new face,” she grins, “Are here with someone?”

You lean in closer in an act of interest, if she’s been here for a while she could offer some insight about Marcus. You’re about to ask but she cuts you off with a wide flourish of her hands, “Wait! I’ve got the perfect guy for you! He recently moved here, tall, good looking,” she leans in a closer with a whisper, “Rich too,”

A hand drops on your shoulder, “Goodness sweetheart, trading me in already?” You look up to see Dante had made his way over, “I know I was in the doghouse but I didn’t think you’d get rid of me that fast. What can I do to make it up to you, my love?”

You laugh, placing your hand over you chest and on his, “Don’t be dramatic, I was just about to introduce you,”

The lady in front of you gasps, “I’m so sorry! I just assumed because you had no ring, my husband is always telling me to think before I speak, oh god how embarrassing,”

You smile in reassurance, “Please, don’t apologise, it’s not a big deal,” you pat Dante’s hand, “This is Dante, my partner,” the sentence rolls off your tongue smoothly.

Dante squeezes your shoulder, “Pleasure to meet you…” he draws out.

“How rude of me, I don’t believe we introduced each other. Vivian,”

You introduce yourself in turn. The first thing you learn about Vivian is that she is one nosy lady, she has gossip on just about every person present in the building. Dante stands as a steady shadow behind you, thumb rubbing the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone gently as he half listens, half surveys the room.

“Mr.Wicks, or Marcus, is a new addition to our little events. I can’t remember who invited him, he just showed up one day and quickly became a popular patron,” Vivian takes a sip of her wine, “Probably because he has all the money in the world to burn,”

Your eyes widen, “He really has that much?”

“That much, and more darling. He’s got a very successful data broker company that keeps his hobbies afloat.”

Dante leans over your shoulder, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to introduce myself to the others,”

You look over at him, “Sure, I’ll see you soon,”

You watch as Dante walks over to a group of men nearby the open bar. He bumps his elbow into one of the men in a friendly gesture, shaking his hand with a broad grin. He’s a natural at this. You almost shake your head in disbelief, it’s like he has a pull that draws people in. One that you’re starting to fall victim to.

Vivian chimes in, “You two are gorgeous together,”

To save yourself from an embarrassing flush, you reach for your drink, “Thank you,”

“No, really, I’ve never seen a man so enamoured,” is that jealousy you hear? “It’s like you fit in each others shadows, a complete match,”

You take a sip of your drink before responding. Pondering how you should go about this conversation, “We’re not perfect,” you laugh, “We’ve had our fair share of fights, that I can assure you of,”

Vivian hums thoughtfully, “What’s your secret then? What keeps you two together?”

At this, you grin, “Stubbornness.”

After a few moments you manage to get out of Vivian’s spotlight and steer the conversation back to Marcus. You lean that his hobbies include everything about demonology, and portals.

“Gateways to other dimensions, he calls it,” she waves her hand dismissively, “I couldn’t tell you anything else I tuned out after that. Honestly, what a load of garbage right? Who believes in any of that?”

You nod and take it all in while Vivian has another sip of her drink. Heavy drinker. While what she has told you isn’t anything new, it’s good to have your information solidified by another person.

Before your conversation can continue, a man walks up on stage, “Ladies and gentlemen if you could please make your way to your seats. The event will start soon.”

You watch as every begins to weave between tables to their seat, whispering to each other. It’s not long before Dante drops himself down beside you, he places his hand on your thigh and leans over to whisper in your ear.

“How was your gossip session?”

You hum, “Information was confirmed, nothing new though. What about you and your gentlemen club?”

You can hear Dante inhale, his hand gently rubbing up and down your thigh, “Afraid the club brings bad news,” this makes you frown, “Apparently Marcus is unveiling a project tonight for his loyal followers,”

You tense, rigid enough that Dante squeezes your thigh in reassurance, but that alone is clarification enough of your suspicion.

“He has a demon. Here?” You murmur, trying to keep your breathing even but your heart rate has picked up.

“Yes,” he exhales, “You should sneak out now, I can meet you—”

The lights abruptly cut out, you can make out a screen being lowered as a projector clicks on. When you look over your shoulder you can see Dante is already seeing the same thing. Security closes the door and swiftly locks everyone inside.

“So much for plan A,” Dante mutters.

You don’t know how he can be so calm. Well, you do know, demon hunter and all, but you’re freaking out. Heart rate elevated, your breathing gets heavier, and you think you’re getting dizzy but that could either be the alcohol or paranoia talking.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,”

You whip your head around, facing him directly, “You can’t promise that,” you hiss hysterically, “We don’t even know what we’re up against,”

Vivian looks over at you quizzically, concerned about your rising tone. You smile pleasantly, and pat Dante’s chest patronisingly. She smiles knowingly before turning back to her husband.

Dante leans closer, talking lowly, “Have some faith in me please, sweetheart, this is my job we’re talking about,”

You search his eyes, in the light of the projection screen you see nothing but confidence. Everything from his expression to his body language suggests he has nothing to fear.

You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, when you look back at him, he has an unreadable expression on his face, “I swear Dante, if I come out of this with even a scratch, I’ll be pissed off,”

Marcus makes his unassuming entrance onto the stage. There’s nothing out of the usual with his appearance, just an average looking business man if you didn’t know any better.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining me tonight. As you may know, all your efforts and contribution to my project has come to fruition,” he raises his wine glass, “Please join me in a drink, for this is a celebration of our hard work.”

Applause erupts around the room, you hesitantly join in but Dante remains still with his arm draped across the back of your chair. The rooms becomes quieter as security rolls out a large cage, the contents are covered— typical— by a white sheet.

Marcus goes on, with what you honestly think, is a tangent about his passion for otherworldly dimensions and demons from hell. You can’t find yourself tuning in as much as you should, far too distracted by the cage that sits quietly on stage. Why is it quiet? You would have thought the demon inside would be kicking up a storm in its captivity, but not even the sheet is moving. Is it sedated? Who has their hands on demon grade sedative?

You tense when Marcus walks over to the cage, “And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” his hands grasp the sheet, “Feast your eyes, on what is only the beginning of our journey.”

The sheet flies off with a flourish, falling to the ground below the stage, gasps sound from around the room including your own.

The cage is empty.

“Oh, fuck,” you panic.

“Fuck.” Dante sighs.

A strange shadow crosses the projector lens, cause the screen to flicker. You look up at the ceiling, in the darkness of the room you can see a bulking shadow. Hovering right above you.

You clench Dante’s thigh, “Dante—”

“I see it.”

Through your peripheral you can see him gazing up at the ceiling, “Get under the table.” He demands.

You don’t really want to let go of him, it feels more dangerous separating from him than finding cover. Hesitantly, you start to shuffle off your chair slowly to not cause suspicion.

Vivian looks confused as you go, “What are you doing?”

You’re already sitting on the floor when she asks, you make a shushing motion, “Follow me,” you whisper, taking her by the wrist and not taking no for an answer.

Once you’re under the table, she asks again, “What on earth is going on?”

You can hear a chair dragging across the floor beside you, “Where is it then?” Dante calls out. You cringe at his brash attitude.

“Where’s what?” Vivian she asks quietly.

You don’t answer, but Dante does, “The demon? I was promised I would see one tonight.”

You can’t see Marcus’ expression but you assume it’s not a friendly one. You can hear footsteps closing in, security probably, trying to search the perimeter. A unearthly growl reverberates across the room, silencing everyone.

You can see Vivian open her mouth but you slap your hand across it before she can speak. She’s frowning, you’re about to try and placate her when something heavy drops onto the table about your head. It rattles the cutlery and you can see wine glasses fall off the edge.

“Wow,” Dante whistles, “Now that’s what you call an entrance.”

The room erupts with screams, people frantically getting out of their seats and dashing for the exit. You stay perfectly still, even as the table worryingly starts to rattle and tip.

“What is that?” Vivian cries.

“A demon,” you try to say as evenly as possible. You can hear Dante in the background trying to lure the demon off the table.

“What?” Suddenly she looks around frantically, “My husband, what about—”

“I really wouldn’t suggest leaving here right now,” you whisper, “Wait for Dante to lead the demon off the table,”

She stares at you for a moment, “You’re being serious,”

Sounds of cutlery falling crashes around, “Yes,”

“And just what does you partner do?”

You look away, “He’s a demon hunter,”

“A demon hunter,” she frowns, “How did you get in tonight? Who do you know here?”

You sigh, looking at Vivian squarely, “Now is not the time for the full story but I think you’re smart enough to piece it together anyway,”

Vivian looks at you for a long moment, “I want to get out of this alive,” she says finally.

You nod, “Me too.”

You both agree to stick together in solidarity, holding each other’s hand tightly. You hear the demon screech terribly above you.

“That one hurt big guy? Why don’t you come do something about it?” Dante taunts.

Heavy footsteps crack the table, causing splinters to rain down on you. They reach the end of the table, slowly you shuffle back, bringing Vivian with you. When you reach the opposite end, you hesitantly peek out from under the cloth, you can see the stage, now empty, but surprisingly no blood spilt. You hope it stays that way.

You can see an emergency exit door beside the stage, you could make it if you dashed for it. The tablecloth drops as you slip back under, you tug your dress up and reach for your heels.

“What are you doing?” Vivian whispers.

“Take them off,” you respond, “We have to make a run for it.”

Vivian quickly follows your direction. With heels abandoned, you wait for Dante’s signal. Listening carefully you can hear something being thrown before landing with a thunk, the demon responds with a resounding roar.

“I have enough knives to throw to last me all night,” is he being serious? “Are you gonna make the first move? Or do I?”

The table creeks once more, you grab Vivian’s hand. “Get ready.”

The table tips with the demons weight, exposing your place of hiding. You take your chance as the demon launches itself at Dante. Keeping low you dash for the emergency exit door, Vivian close behind you. Vivian lets out a terrified gasp, alerting the demon. Its head whips in your direction but you keep going, dragging Vivian even closer.

The demon is about to turn around when Dante runs for it, you only catch a glimpse of it but you swear you see him summon a sword out of nowhere.

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet.”

You shoulder the exit door open, shoving Vivian through and then slamming it closed again as if that would be enough. Once it’s closed, you grab her hand again and leap down the stairs until you see the doors leading outside.

You gasp, breathing heavily. It’s not safe yet but at least you’re out of the perimeter. It’s raining heavily now, and you’re getting soaked to the bone.

You glance over at Vivian in her deep purple dress, she wraps her arms around herself. “What do I do? My husband…is he alive?”

You swallow, “I don’t know,” you whisper, “But Dante is doing all he can, don’t lose hope yet.”

She nods absently. You can hear police sirens in the distance.

Not long after, you were ushered away from the lobby doors by paramedics begrudgingly, despite explaining you weren’t hurt. But they insisted you get out of the rain to avoid hypothermia, so now you sit increasingly anxious in the back of an ambulance with a blanket over your shoulders. You can hear gunshots, even a few windows shatter.

It felt like forever before it finally went silent. Moments passed before you saw police securing civilians out of the building. You leap out of the ambulance, despite the worried shouts of paramedics you run for the doors. Staying behind the parked police but looking anxiously.

Familiar white hair can be spotted easily amongst the crowd, “Dante!”

You can see him more clearly now, his clothes are torn from what looks like claw marks. And there’s bloodstains, of either his or the demon’s you can’t be certain. His head turns in the direction of his name, spotting you instantly. He walks over, mid-conversation with the police, which irks them you can see but they don’t try to follow him.

“Missed me?” He smirks.

You exhale, relieved to see him okay, “All pieces of you accounted for?”

“All the important ones anyway,”

He smiles, tucking your drenched hair behind your ear, “I told you, you’d be okay. Look you even made it out with no scratches. Damn, I am good at my job,”

“You scared me half to death,” you exasperate.

Dante looks at you for a moment, “You care about me, sweetheart?”

Your eyes widen at the insinuation, you look down at your bare feet to avoid his gaze. You were just put through an intense situation, one that you were nowhere near prepared for. And you don’t appreciate that being downplayed.

“Yes, I do care, for you wellbeing,” you hiss, “You are one of my hunters, and what you did in there was reckless at best! Taunting a demon like that, are you fucking stupid?”

“I like it when you call me yours,”

“Don’t deflect the conversation—”

He steps closer into your space, you’re practically chest to chest, and the height difference causes you to look up.

“I am fine,” he emphasises, “Renowned demon hunter, remember? I know my limit, and I don’t need you to worry about me,”

“You’re impossible,”

Dante shrugs, “Get used to it angel, because you’re going to see a lot more of it.”

You can head Vivian in the background shouting her husband’s name, when you look over you can see her leaping into his arms. You let out a sigh of relief, you’re glad they got reunited. Her husband hugs her tight as she sobs into his arms.

“Saw what you did in there, brave of you,”

You look away, “Kinda stupid separating them though, worried her for nothing,”

Dante hums, “He was lucky this time that I was there, you though, you saved her. Sure we can’t make a hunter out of you?”

You look up at him, eyebrow raised. “Maybe not,” he second guesses, “Then who would greet me after my missions?”

“Enzo?” You guess.

Dante scrunches his nose, “Nah, he’s no way near as hot as you,”

You roll your eyes, “Walk me home?”

Dante nods, removing his damaged jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

[xoxojisu]

"I LOVE YOU."

synopsis: in which kenma quietly realizes he's completely, utterly in love with you.

notes: it's like THE MOMENT he realizes yk. AHH i love this trope. @suniix my fellow kenma lover <3

you’re sitting on the floor, legs tucked beneath you, bent over his switch case like you’re disarming a bomb. you’re not, but you might as well be. you were focusing on organizing his many games, something he never asked you to do but clearly needed. there’s a small crease between your eyebrows and your tongue is poking out slightly in concentration. you're humming something that sounds like a mashup between 'kiss me,' 'uptown girl,' and the animal crossing theme song. he can’t tell if it's a song he's simply never heard of, or if he's actually correct. he thinks he is.

kenma’s on the couch, curled into himself on one end, a blanket you got for him draped across his lap and a drink in his hands that you made exactly the way he likes it. it's ice cold and disgustingly sweet. he hadn’t even asked. you just knew.

kenma realizes that you know quite a lot about him. you know of his drink preferences and his chronic coldness. he knows that you've noticed how when he lies, his eyes get shifty or he'll start fidgeting. you know he can't open packaging on snacks for the life of him and automatically hand him a knife, because you can't either. you know how bad he is at asking for affection, so you curl your fingers into his scalp at the first sign that he wants it.

they're random and unimportant details, but undeniably and utterly him. and you see all of it. he thinks it's nice.

the room is softly lit, a couple lamps illuminated the space. no overhead lights. he doesn't like how fluorescent they are, and they can sometimes overstimulate him. of course, he's never mentioned this, but you figured it out on your own. the curtains are half-drawn, and the tv’s still on the menu screen of the game you were supposed to start an hour ago, forgotten in the warmth of just simply existing next to each other.

he doesn't really know why, but he has now put down his game in favor of watching you. really watching you.

not because you’re doing anything extraordinary. you're just… being. sitting in his hoodie, sleeves slightly rolled, hair thrown lazily into something of a bun. fixing something for him that he didn’t even realize was broken. and smiling, every now and then, to yourself. like it’s enough just to be here.

and that’s when it hits him.

he doesn’t feel his chest tighten like the air has been sucked out of him, or his stomach flutter with the intensity of a thousand butterflies. it’s not cinematic or dramatic like those shojo animes you like to watch where the music kicks up and the camera circles around them in riveting and exciting motions. it’s quiet. like a single domino tipping in slow motion, or a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.

“oh.”

he says it out loud, though barely audible, like a secret meant for no one but himself. it sounds stupid as soon as it leaves his mouth, so he coughs, trying to cover it up, hoping you didn’t hear.

you glance up.

“hm?”

he shakes his head a little too fast. “nothing. just… forgot something.”

you blink, noticing the way his eyes shift, but then go back to your organizing, humming that random tune again.

he watches you for another beat, then looks down at the drink you made for him. he sips it slowly, even though it’s cooled down a little. still sweet. still perfect. still him. still you.

and in the back of his mind, something settles. quiet. simple.

"i love you."

masterlist

[lenneygirl4ever]

the alchemy || Will Lenney

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

part two of THE ALCHEMY. part one here

pairing: will lenney x fem!reader

warnings & tags: friends to lovers. idiots with tension. idiots in denial. slowish burn. will pov. more will, less football. chrismd gossip bestie.

summary: after seeing the public’s reaction to your performance, you see how your fellow teammate takes to social media after the fact. causing the two of you to reach a breaking point.

a/n: hello!!! this is a long one, so grab a drink lads. thank you for your patience, im a first year college student and the last month has been hectic.

for any clarity, this is the gap between the two charity matches! :)

wc: SO MANY!!!

Recently, you haven’t been able to sleep. The thrill of the match still shocks you awake, every time there are new photos released or a new video, you are quick to engage. Slowly, videos are released from your other mates, and you eagerly tune in to see what they say.

It’s exciting. The feedback has mainly been positive, yet you still feel the uneasy flip in your stomach every time you see someone has released a video. It's all you can think about. And when you weren't thinking about football, you watched it on telly. You missed playing, the competition, the simple act of being active. It's given you a new surge of motivation, pushing you into creating.

The only downside of it all is that your phone has been buzzing with notifications today, especially. Usually, your phone mutes any notifications from social media, allowing you to not get sucked in all day. Truly, you do your best to ignore it, to ignore the increasing number you see every time you open Twitter, Instagram, or TikTok. But you're only human, and humans are quite curious.

You try not to think anything of it, occupying your time in the studio to film your own video about the charity match. You had B-roll shots, stills, and close-ups of players when you were benched. It was becoming a combination of all the things you adored, your friends, film, and football.

Once you begin to sit down to film a portion of the video, you review the brief script you had written until you feel your right pocket vibrate. Getting up to turn off the camera, you pull out your phone to see who's calling. And to your surprise, it's Chris. You slide open your phone and put it to your ear as you click the camera off.

"Do you need to tell me something?" Chris asks immediately, making your heart drop. You hadn't been hiding anything, spoke to him frequently, and were sure you didn't need to tell him anything.

"What? I don't think so, do I?" You wonder aloud. Chris groans loudly, making your phone speaker crackle in your ears. He doesn’t often text, matter of fact, Chris is a god-awful texter— and an even worse mate to call in a time of need. You could text him and he would go at least a week without responding, usually replying with “Sorry I thought I responded!”

Which makes you wonder, what could be so important that he called you first? Usually, like Simon, it was to help film, otherwise Chris would call to gossip. The boys loved gossiping, or catching up, as they would say.

"I've just seen Will's video," He starts, and you wait for him to continue, but it seems he's doing the same. "Came out a few hours ago.."

You walk in circles in the studio, a hand tapping the side of your thigh out of nerves. You knew Will was uploading his pov of the charity match sometime later in the week, but he didn't tell you exactly when. You'd be lying if you hadn't wondered what would be kept in your shared interactions, what Will said about you, and what Mikey would deliberately choose to keep in. It was a thought that had plagued your mind since Will had taken the GoPro off when you two returned to the hotel.

"Right, and what does that mean?" You huff, choking down the unease in your tone.

"Oh my god, have you seen it? You haven't, have you?" Chris exclaimed, and you could hear the small giggle he tried to stifle. "You two really are clueless, aren't you? It's ridiculous that our other mates are on Hinge actively trying to not be single, and you two do it by choice!" he joked hysterically.

“You’re a dickhead,” you cut in between his laughter, choosing to ignore the blatant comment about yours and Wills' peculiar relationship.

While Chris continues to make himself laugh, the curiosity is now starting to gnaw at you, causing you to stride over to your desk. Without another beat, your monitor is turned on, and you pull out the chair to get comfortable. You attempt to ignore his laughter as you open up YouTube, typing in Will's second channel name.

"Take a gander for me, will you? When you get the chance, of course," Chris says, and you can hear the wide grin on his face. You freeze, like you had just been caught, the mouse hovering over the thumbnail of the video. You look around the room, just to make sure you're alone.

"I suppose," you say slowly, sitting up straighter than before. Chris then goes on to talk about his latest endeavors, awful dates, video ideas, and the next time you two will see each other. Under other circumstances, you'd be happy to chat. But right now, all you wanna do is watch Wills latest video.

"Hey Chris, I gotta get back to filming this video, mate," you fib, leaning back into your chair, "I want it up by next week, and I'm the only one editing it."

"Oh yeah, yeah, I'm just chatting. Let me know when you watch that video, text me," he responds politely.

"If you even get back to me-" and the phone call ends before you can even say goodbye. You furrow your eyebrows at your phone before setting it down on the desk. You mumble the title to yourself,

SIDEMEN CHARITY MATCH (First Person POV) a bit more willne • 271k views • 3 hours ago

It can’t be that bad, is what you’re trying to convince yourself. You've existed on the internet for a long time now, and there isn't anything you can't handle. Clicking on the video, your heart starts hammering in your chest. You let a few minutes roll by, holding your breath, and then you see the moment when you tapped on Will's shoulder.

"I’m literally shitting myself right now, Will," you let out, and Will watches it back with a soft smile and a tender chuckle.

“Awh poor y/n/n, she was really nervous the entire time, I felt so awful once we split up,” he says over the video.

There it is. The common burn on your face, the shiver down your spine, and the drumming of your heart against your chest. You hit the space bar, pausing the video, to cover your face in embarrassment.

Is it silly to be so riled up by a singular sentence? Are you crazy for wanting to analyze every little thing in the video? You seem to take note of everything. You notice the upturn on the corner of his lips, the way he plays with the ring on his pinky that you got for him-- a nervous tick he picked up, the shifting of his eyes down to his lap when he gets bashful. It's driving you crazy.

So, instead, you watch in complete silence for the rest of the video. It keeps you from pausing frames, reading comments, and feeling lightheaded. But you notice how the GoPro often faces where you're standing on the field, how Mikey left in the bits and pieces of you two interacting that could've easily been cut out. The small waves, subtle smiles, the hug you two shared after you had missed the goal. Half the time Will wouldn't say anything, he would just grin, reliving the moment, occasionally making small comments.

"She really is something, isn't she? Many good assists for her first match,"

and

"Look at that darlin' smile,"

Yet you didn't pause, you remained still in your seat, keeping your eyes glued to the screen as if blinking would take it away. Even though you could feel the air leave your lungs when you appeared on screen.

But then you reach the point where Will makes his goal.

You nervously bite your fingers as he celebrates, telling the audience the same thing he told you on the field, how he had never been a striker and always stayed in the back. The GoPro shot is now playing as Wills words fade into the background. The next few moments play, and it's where Will was screaming something intangible to you.

You aggressively turn up the volume all the way, turning on closed captions to be sure. Your mouse hovers over the timestamp, “most replayed,” and that's when you hear it.

"For you! I did it for you!"

It plays once, then you replay it, and then replay it again. You feel crazy. Taking in his every word, every move, was this okay? A moment that felt so raw and personal was now published for thousands to observe.

“For you! For you!” that’s what Will continues to shout at you on the pitch. And Will doesn’t say much about it, because just before was the clip of you saying he owes you a goal. But when you watch the video you feel like you’re back on the field. Chest heaving up and down, you can barely breathe, and there’s Will running at you shouting something you couldn’t make out. His skin sticking to yours as he embraces you, his hands gripping the side of your body with the proudest smile. A smile, that now says, that was for you.

Just like before, you pause the video, hands gliding through your hair. You don't finish the video. Instead, you step away from the computer and fall back onto the couch that you originally were going to film on.

Okay. It was pretty bad. You understand why your mentions have been blowing up all day and why Chris gave you a call. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen this before. Earlier on, you’d often get paired with any boy you came into contact with. It never got out of hand, and most of the time, you were able to ignore it, and the others would too.

But this time it was a little different. The next few days roll by and you aren't able to dodge it. The tweets, the teasing from friends, the edits, god the edits. When filming with friends you were always ready for a joke about Will to make an appearance.

And once you upload your video on the charity match, the comments are bombarded with curiosity and flood in quickly.

StarvxsmWillLoverforever Starting to see why will and y/n can't beat the dating allegations.. 349 likes 17 replies

marriottxmorgan Literally!!!

Admittedly, you feel a little crazy for reading the comments to see if others are picking up on what’s happening. You don’t need to rely on the audiences validation on what’s going— but it does make you feel a little more sane.

Despite it all, Will doesn't bring it up to you, nor does he make any insinuation that he knows about it when he comes by your flat one afternoon.

“Are you coming tomorrow night?” Will asks over your shoulder, his breath fanning the tips of your ears. You turn your head away from the show you're watching and lean back to create space. A chill is sent down your spine as the hairs on your arm stand. He leans over the couch, the sun casting shadows to create definition in the muscles on his arms. Your cat, calamari, follows him, weaving between his arms and purring. A fortuitous combination that focused all the things you loved in one home.

“To what? Watch you prats drink and make a fool of yourselves?” you bantered, turning your body fully to face him. "I have somewhere to be the next morning,"

Arthur mentioned how the lads were hitting the pubs over the weekend, but it seemed he failed to mention that you were meant to accompany them. Will shrugs, arms crossing over one another to lean closer to you.

“Chris said you would,” he insisted, and you could see the smile he was trying to hide. You roll your eyes and lean back onto the couch as Will picks up the feline, cradling her in his arms.

“Why does everyone keep saying I’ll do things before talking to me?” you wondered aloud.

“Because you always end up doing them darlin,” Will teases, kissing your pet before settling down in the open space next to you with Calamari in his lap. "I think Arthur owes Chris twenty quid if you go,"

The silence stretches, reminding you that you're playing house again with Will. There’s leftover takeout on the table, his coat lazily hanging off a chair, and the worn out ball you both had been passing around. The breeze that comes from the open window cools the burn on your face and clears the air of any tension. Your eyes sweep the room, before landing back on Will whose attention is on Calamari.

You awe silently, Will has a habit of adoring every pet he comes into contact with. And often, they end up loving him just as much. Without hesitation, you grab your phone, snapping a picture to save for later.

“I guess I don’t have anything else going on,” you say simply, tucking your phone back under your thigh.

“You don’t disappoint,”

Will stays for several more hours after that, watching telly with you, playing with mari, he watches as you write formal emails, and listens to your phone calls with your manager.

Between all this, you posted the photo of Will and Mari. No caption, no music, no tags, just the photo. You hadn’t thought much of it, a simple photo that was cute. Yet, Wills face wasn’t in it, just the wave of of his hair and the ring on his pinky finger— you weren’t trying to hide him. Either way, it didn’t stop your audience from finding out who it was.

So the hours before you were finally going to get some sleep, were left with you refreshing your phone.

“Fucks sake,” you mumble under your breath, before turning off your phone frustratedly for the night and going to bed.

The music is loud, but the chatter is more audible. You hesitate, not wanting to leave the solace of the cool air. Bars made you anxious, so did large crowds of people, and the only anecdote to that right now—was to drink.

You push open the door, immediately being met with loud cheers as older couples watch the game on the multiple TVs that are displayed. You take a second look at the location you were sent, and you seemed to be in the right place.

Slipping around groups, and bumping into couples, you eventually end up slamming into a familiar face.

“Y/N! Thought you weren’t coming for a second there, mate!” Chris steadies you, yelling over Queen playing on the big speakers. Fixing the pieces of hair that got caught in your lipgloss, you give a shy smile.

“I got wrapped up in editing,”

“We’ve got to get you an editor,” Chip chimes in, appearing with the rest of the lot. You roll your eyes in response, eyeing him.

"Yeah, yeah,” you say dismissively, crossing your amrs over one another. “Where’s Sabina?”

"She was knackered and didn't know if you were coming or not! I'll text her, tell her you are thinking of her," he responds politely, pulling out his phone to text his girlfriend. Gaze sweeping the group, you count six men, minus Will, and that’s when reality to hits you—

"This is awful! I'm stuck babysitting you blokes all night, again," you express, the palms of your hands pressing against your eyes.

"Oh we're not all bad," a voice comes from behind you, warmth radiating on your back. And without even turning around, you know it's Will. One of his hands leans against the bar, outstretching infront of you, while the other holds a half empty glass. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder, and Will is looking down at you, head slightly tilted with a small grin.

It's suffocating, his eyes on you, yours on his, and everybody elses on the both of you. It feels more intimate than when Will has fallen asleep in your bed after a quiet evening. This is a public display, both of you slotting together like pieces in a puzzle, your back pressing into his chest accidentally.

"And when you end up singing down the street and getting carried by George later, tell me that," He laughs lightly, breath fanning your face with tequila and mint. He still has the same smile that looked at you, and only you, with adoration.

"Another pint, anyone?” Stephen asks.

“Oi! Shots in celebration!” Cal insists instead.

“We could just do both, really,” you offer, and the rest seem to rally at the suggestion.

"Brilliant idea,"

The lot of you kill more time with conversations about formula 1, filming, football, and more importantly, shots. You could feel the music in your feet, sending shock waves to your racing heart. The pub continued to get more crowded as time went on, allowing you to sneak away to use the bathroom for a moment of silence and peace. The liquor you drank burned your throat and sat heavy in your stomach, while it eased your anxiety and loosened your joints, it was making you impulsive.

There’s surprisingly no line, and your out in no time, fixing your smudged mascara in the foggy mirror. You reach for your purse, only to realize you don't have it, and you also don't have your phone. Quickly, or as quickly as you can handle, you move out of the bathroom and into the crowded hall.

You must've left it at the booth, or maybe outside when you needed fresh air, or maybe by the pool table? You strain your neck, going on your tip toes to sweep the room. Once, twice, and then your eyes fall on Will. He's on his phone, and theres a black bag that hangs on his shoulder.

You feel a sense of relief wash over, but also your heart skip a beat.

“William, I think you have something of mine,” You say loudly, drawing his attention away from his phone, down to you.

“What? This? I have one of these myself,” he says jokingly, sliding the purse off his arm and onto the counter next to you both. He then digs in his pant pocket, fishing out your phone and sliding it next to your purse. Under the awful lights, his hair is shinning and freshly washed, the hair near his ears is short meaning that it was newly cut.

“You look better without those hats,” you observe aloud. Your hand reaches and brushes through his hair, ruffling it, “Have you ever considered a mullet? You’d suit one,”

Will tilts his head, like a puppy, his eyes big and bright— “Noted,” and only now, you notice how the rest of the lads had scattered, and Will was by himself. You look over your shoulder, then reaching on your tiptoes to search for the boys.

“Were you waiting for me?” You observe, even though you meant to only think that. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

Will shrugs, trying to hide the small smile that dared to creep on his face.

“Kinda,”

"You can't kinda wait for someone,"

"I was going to wait for you anyway, but then you left your bag near the pool table, gave me a good excuse." Will's gaze swept the room— their friends nearing on the edge of being plastered, singing and talking to strangers. He was searching for something, not someone, but something else.

Grabbing your attention, the bartender slings two pints your way, "For the couple," he winks, making your face burn. You both don’t say anything at first, the atmosphere shifting to try to mold to both of your comforts.

The air had changed, suddenly gotten so dry and tight that it made Will's body stiffen. Ignoring the comment, Will grabs the glass and inspects it before taking a small sip.

“Are you.. seeing what people are saying?” Will asks as you grab the glass left unattended. "About us,"

His voice was low, eyes fixed somewhere just passed your shoulder, like looking at you directly might unravel something you both aren't ready for.

You shift uncomfortably, of course you did. How could you not? Every day since Will posted the video, when Ieuans' photos were released of both of you, last night's post— you’d been getting tagged in edits, clips, everything. The question was big, pointed, and unexpected.

“Yeah, I’ve seen a few things,” you lie, hiding your unease by squeezing the class tighter.

The look on Wills face, you’ve seen it before. When editing software crashes, or when an unplanned event happens during a video, this time it’s a little different. There’s tension in his brows, his jaw isn’t clenched, instead theres doubt, uncertainty, that strains him.

“It’s okay, Will, I swear it doesn’t bother me.” you reassure, “Unless it.. it uh, bothers you, of course—“

“No! No, that isn’t, no, it doesn’t bother me at all,” he sputters earnestly. Will's eyes meet yours—guarded but still steady—before clamping his mouth shut. Holding back on the words dancing on his tongue.

"Okay," You slowly nod, as if you’re still processing it as you’re responding. You should leave it at that, finish your drink and head back towards the group— “Then why did you bring it up?”

What did they put in the liquor tonight?

In all the time you've known Will, he's not a good liar. He’s also not good at hiding what he’s feeling on his face. His tongue presses against the inside of his bottom lip, face twisting to avoid an awkward grin.

“I thought it would make you uncomfortable,” he mutters, his eyes darting down to look at the foam in his glass. You shift, hesitantly moving closer to Will to capture his attention.

“What? No, it’s never made me uncomfortable before. Should it?” You ask, hand grazing his forearm. Which makes Will look at you before he shrugs, quiet and shy, similar to when you first met him.

"I've seen what it's done to other people, it could have a horrible ending,"

“Doesn’t have to,”

“But it could,”

“That stuff doesn't change anything, we're still..." You begin defensively, before the weight of your words slowly starts to settle. "..where we are,”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, the adrenaline bleeding out of your system. You don’t pick up on the shock on Wills face at first, but after a beat of silence you realize the depth of what you just said. Slowly, you swallow the sip from your drink, giving you enough time to possibly save yourself.

But you don’t say anything.

You both stare at each other incredulously.

“Well, where are we, y/n?" Will probes. He can see it now, the look on your face, the shock, the stature of your posture, the mistake it was saying that outloud. You know he’s asking because he already has an answer in his head, but he wants you to reaffirm it. You know Will, and Will knows you, it’s inescapable.

Again, the silence stretches, but not comfortably like it was the night before in your living room. This time it’s heavy, thick with anticipation.

Even with the loud chatter in the pub, it makes your ears ring. You’re convinced you two are the only ones not talking. The look on his face says he’s waiting for you to say something else, but you don’t. You swallow and lick the dry cast on your lips, being the first to break eye contact. Breaking the string tying you two together at this moment.

“Y/n, be honest with me—”

“Hello! What are we standing around for? We’re doing karaoke in the back, George has already had one too many as you can tell,” Chris comes over, his hands clasp Wills shoulders from behind. Chris looks at you first, and then glances to Will, noting the two of you saying nothing. Chris quirks an eyebrow, mouthing something along the lines of “Bad time?”

“Stop sitting around and flirting, will ya? At least when George flirts with him, he shares,” Stephen says teasingly, comes up to join you lot. He doesn’t note the tension between the two of you, or he totally does and just doesn't care. Both of which are completely plausible answers.

“Right, I’ll come on over,” You affirm quickly, seeing this as your only out of the hole you dug yourself into. You give one last glance to Will, and his face is twisted. His eyebrows furrow together, and his lips are slightly parted, it’s a look that reads we’re not done.

But you give him a pleading look that says not right now. 

…⚽️

Will doesn’t say much for the next two hours. He lingers in the back of the group, occasionally sipping on his drink or checking the time on his phone. And you try your best not to stare, knowing that if you look his way— he’ll already be looking at you. He does eventually join the others for karaoke, obnoxiously singing and joining in on music that is playing while you all walk to the next place.

It’s left a pit in your stomach. Knowing that the next time you and Will are alone, you’ll have to be the rawest form of yourself. The part that you’ve been desperate trying to repress and lock away. You’ve never spoken much about how you really feel, afraid that if you start, you’ll never stop. Your feelings for Will are like an oil spill, a match could be dropped and everything would be caught on fire.

You can feel it, the anxiety, it started at your toes and it’s slowly crept it’s way up your torso. The walls are closing in and time is escaping. All because Will doesn’t speak to you, his fingers tapping the table rhythmically, his leg bouncing up and down causing friction to the table. You needed to talk now, even if it was going to ruin you.

Strategically, you get up from the table with a rather forced smile.

“I think it’s time for me to go home fellas,” you announce just after you all had arrived at a new pub. You had been to three pubs already, downed 4 shots, a tequila soda, a couple pints, and a dirty martini. Your shoes were sticking to the wood floors, phone on the verge of dying, and you were tired of having to hover while using the public restrooms.

“Oh not yet, y/n! The night is still young,” George teasingly pleads, and when he leans over to pull you in for a hug you can smell the liquor on his breath. Your nose wrinkles as you pat his back, giving him a small shove after. Unlike Will, it wasn’t as endearing .

“You are so hammered,” you comment, the interaction making the group laugh.

“You aren’t hammered enough,” Cal counters, leaning over to offer you his drink, to which you decline. His eyes are glossed over, and he has this lopsided grin that reads trouble.

“Take care of him won’t you?” You say, pointing at Stephen who shakes his head in response. Regardless, he grabs Cal, and shakes him.

“You stupid, fuckin idiot,” Stephen mutters to Cal, taking the glass between his hands and smelling it. His nose twitches, yet he still takes a small swig, coughing after the fact.

“Drinkin vodka that tastes and looks like medicine, you’re an odd man,”

“Seriously, I’ve got to get going,” Getting up, you shrug your coat on as you briefly say goodbye to everyone.

“We’ll take care of your husband, don’t worry,” Stephen jokes, forcing Cal to sit down in the process.

“You should really work on taking care of yours,” Chris bites back. You roll your eyes, trying to shrug off the overdone comment.

“No one vomit,”

“Will do miss,”

“Can’t promise anything,”

Telling Arthur to tell Chip you said goodbye, smacking Chris on the head for saying you’d come tonight, and finally, you wave to Will.

He nods at you, lifting his drink as acknowledgment. You pause, giving time for more to happen. You expect Will to join you, you hope he does, because you linger for a moment too long that everyone else notices— but he doesn’t. His body still, leaned back into the chair he sat in. Wills eyes flicker back towards the lads, and he doesn’t take a second glance. He’s letting you walk away.

So you walk away.

And once you’re out of the bar, you convince yourself you’ll hear his footsteps from behind. Ones that are hurried and rushed, maybe he was just taking his time to say his goodbyes. Will never let you leave without him, he always accompanied you, eventually going back to each others flat and falling asleep there. But you glance over your shoulder, once, twice, and before you know it, you’re on the train home. It leaves a hollow feeling in your heart, a cold chill that courses through your bones.

You don't remember the last time you left an event, a hangout, or even a video when Will didn't leave with you. You purposefully left thinking he would follow, but he didn’t, so maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe you’re reading too much into it, he had a lot to drink and hasn’t been able to get out very much— he was just having a good time!

Looking at your phone, with 5% left, you go to your messages. Waiting for his text seemed desperate, but he always sent you one after a night out, it was normal. Whatever normal means to you both.

With a loud groan, and a frustrated tug on your hair, your phone shuts off and you let it fall onto your lap. No phone, no company, and no alcohol. What a shit way to end the night.

Now you’re left to wonder on the ride home if that was casual, or if you’re an idiot.

Recently, Will hasn't been able to sleep. Ever since he watched you walk out of the pub a few nights ago, he's felt this lingering regret. He hasn’t seen, texted, or called you since that night. And normally, he sends you a text to make sure you got home safe, but he didn’t even do that. Instead he anxiously turned off his phone the rest of the night and has been avoiding the feeling since.

At first, Will thought it best to keep it to himself, until one morning Will gave James a call in the early afternoon.

“Y/n says rubbish all the time, it could mean nothing,” James comments. 

“No! You knobhead! She had this, this look and she said it like she regretted it,”

“Or it could mean everything, and you’ve completely screwed up–” James continues to mumble to himself.

“Why don’t you just make me feel worse about the situation, yeah?” Will huffs.

“This is why I didn’t want to give you my honest opinion because I’m not involved in the situation. How am I supposed to know what look she had?” James points out.

“You’ve known her just as long as I have,” Will says quietly, picking up the dishes left on his bedside table and bringing them out into the kitchen.

“What, you want me to write a song about it?”

“James!” Will whines. 

“Okay, okay, what else happened?” Will sucks in air through his teeth, trying to recall the rest of the night.

“She left after a couple hours, that’s it,”

“What’s the matter with you?! You let her leave?” James yells over the phone, causing Wills eardrums to pop in response.

“What was I supposed to do? Follow her on the chance that she tells me that it was nothing?” Will argues, setting the dishes into the sink. There’s a silence over the phone before another loud yell,“YES!”

A beat of silence goes by, and then a wave of realization washes over. Will loudly groans, his palm banged against the counter sharply then slaps his forehead.

“..I’m a proper idiot, aren’t I?” Will asks, but mainly to himself. Finding himself leaning against his kitchen counter, pressing his phone to his ear with just his shoulder. He lets out another heavy sigh, using the pads of his fingers to rub circles on his temple and forehead.

“Mate, what do I do?” Will asks defeatedly. James shifts over the phone, drawing his attention back to the phone call. He can hear James footsteps stop, settling down to think about the question.

“Realistically, you talk to y/n. You’ve known her since you were twenty-two, If you don’t talk to her now you’ll be dancing around your feelings until you’re sixty, and by then she’ll have grandkids. You and I both know that this isn’t going away anytime soon,” 

“Why are we being nasty?” Will says, a small exhausted smile making its way onto the corners of his mouth.

"I'm not! But I think it's ridiculous that you have any reason to believe that your feelings aren't reciprocated," James explains calmly. His tone was sure, confident, Will doesn’t think he’s ever heard James be so serious before.

"Have you been watching those edits of her and i recently?" Will tries to steer the conversation where it doesn’t put him in a vulnerable spot. Lightening the mood with a small quip, “They’re quite good, I can see how it would get in someone’s head,”

"Maybe. But regardless, I can still see how obvious it is that you two want to be together. Do us all a favor, Will. Make it happen. I don’t know what you're waiting for, really.” James confesses. As much as it was a weight off Wills shoulders, it was a weight off his as well.

So that's what Will does. After the phone call, he writes and deletes, and rewrites the text he's attempting to send you. Before he knows it, the sun is setting and he’s wasted the day away. So, instead, he gives up and heads towards your flat and arrives at seven sharp. No phone call, no text, just him.

With a small knock at your door, and his nerves making his hands twitch, he waits.

Will hears a few meows from inside, and then footsteps, before you slowly open the door.

“Will, hey,” you say softly, your eyes big with surprise. Will cradles a ball between his arms and a black jumper, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Sorry for showing up unannounced, I just..” Will trails off for a moment, suddenly forgetting how to breathe. You observe his nervous nature, and stay still, patient.

“Do you wanna go for a walk, maybe?” he asks carefully, trying to give you space if that’s what you need. You lean against the door frame shrugging,

“It’s cold out,”

“I brought an extra jumper,” he says immediately, and your stature seems to soften. He holds it out for you, an expensive black knitted jumper he always wore in videos. From where you stood, you could smell his cologne, it makes you feel giddy. Even though you were still angry at how he disappeared the last few days.

“Alright, let’s go for a walk then,” you decide finally, knowing that Will wasn’t here for just a walk. He knows you know that, but the look on your face makes him feel a little more hopeful than before.

TAGLIST: @dandelionpixels @ooostarwarsfandom501st @melancholicandmessy @migilini @lyssaluvs @alysbaby @kneelforloki @formulaal @f10pc @i-need-to-be-put-down @blu-cuffie @ellouisa17 @marijas-stuff @pianor481 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @whistlef0rthechoir @edgyficuselastica

a/n: again, ty for all the love and patience. some peoples users i can’t tag but i promise i see u all !!!!

[nickistuffs]

Teasing and Warm Embraces

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: Pastries and endless cuddles turns into playful teasing as Y/N clings to Harry

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: None. just fluff

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there

...

You and Harry hadn’t been able to meet up the other day, but while scrolling through one of his fan sites, you came across a video of him out with a friend. The first thing that crossed your mind—aside from how weird it was that someone had secretly filmed your boyfriend during a private conversation—was just how cozy he looked. Wrapped up in his puffer jacket, slightly hunched against the cold, he looked like the definition of warmth and comfort.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with affection. All you wanted in that moment was to cuddle up with him, bury your face in his chest, and let his arms wrap around you, keeping you safe in his embrace.

"So cute," you murmured to yourself, grinning at the thought.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a notification.

Harry ☺️: Y/N, got us some pastries! I’ll be over in 20 mins. See you 😍🥐

Your smile widened as you quickly typed back.

Y/N 😗: Okie! Be safe on the road. 🫡😗

Harry ☺️: 😌👌

Setting your phone down, you stared up at the ceiling, still thinking about that video. The way Harry looked all bundled up in his puffer jacket reminded you so much of Snoopy—soft, round, and utterly huggable. You let out a little laugh, recalling the memes fans had already made comparing him to the beloved cartoon dog. They weren’t wrong.

You could already picture him showing up at your door, a bag of pastries in hand, his cheeks slightly pink from the cold, and that familiar smile lighting up his face. The thought alone made your heart flutter.

Moments like this made you realize just how much you loved him.

After watching the video and giggling over the Snoopy memes, you decided to change Harry’s caller ID photo. He called you often, and with people occasionally snooping through your phone, it felt better to have something more subtle—just in case.

Just as you finished, a knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. You didn’t even hesitate, rushing to open it.

The moment Harry stood before you, bundled up in his puffer jacket, cheeks rosy from the cold, you couldn’t hold back. You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss that made him stumble back a step.

"Oof—" he chuckled against your lips, steadying himself. "I see I was missed."

You hummed in response, still holding onto him tightly. "Hi, love. Sorry I didn’t see you yesterday," he murmured softly.

"It’s fine. You’re here now." You refused to let go, your arms staying firmly wrapped around him.

Harry quickly caught on that you had no plans of releasing him anytime soon, so with a small laugh, he adjusted his grip, waddling both of you inside while still holding you close. He managed to drop the bag of pastries onto the nearest table before wrapping his arms around you properly.

"Hi," he whispered, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

You sighed happily, doing the same, inhaling his familiar scent. The two of you swayed gently, neither wanting to let go just yet. The warmth of his embrace, the soft fabric of his jacket against your skin—it was perfect.

"You are so cute, Harry."

He tensed for a moment before burying his face deeper into your shoulder, the tips of his ears turning pink. "Thank you… You’re cute as well, Y/N."

You smiled against him, feeling his warmth seep into you. This was all you needed.

After a few more moments of peaceful swaying, Harry pulled back just enough to look at you, his green eyes soft with affection. His hands rested at your waist, thumbs tracing small circles against your sweater.

"So… did you eat yet?" he asked, tilting his head.

You shook your head. "Was waiting for you."

Harry's lips curled into a smile. "Good thing I brought pastries, then."

Reluctantly, you let him go as he grabbed the paper bag and walked toward your kitchen. You trailed after him, watching as he unpacked the treats—flaky croissants, a couple of fruit danishes, and a cinnamon roll that you were sure he had picked just for you.

He handed you the cinnamon roll with a knowing smirk. "Figured you'd want this one."

You gasped dramatically. "You do love me."

Harry chuckled, bumping his hip against yours playfully. "Took you this long to figure that out?"

Grinning, you took a bite, the warm cinnamon melting in your mouth. You let out a satisfied hum, making Harry watch you with a fond expression before he picked up his own croissant and leaned against the counter.

As you both ate in comfortable silence, you pulled out your phone, showing him the Snoopy meme that had made you laugh earlier.

"By the way, look at this—it's you."

Harry wiped his fingers on a napkin before taking your phone. The moment he saw the side-by-side comparison of himself in his puffer jacket and Snoopy, his mouth fell open.

"No way." He let out a disbelieving laugh. "I don't look like that."

You burst into laughter. "You do! Look at the stance! The shape! The absolute coziness!"

Harry groaned, shaking his head with a smile. "My own girlfriend bullying me... unbelievable."

"It’s not bullying, it’s appreciation." You poked his cheek. "I love cozy Harry."

He sighed dramatically but couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. "Fine. If you love cozy Harry so much, you should be honored to receive—" before you could react, he lunged forward, wrapping you in his puffer-jacket-covered arms and smothering you against his chest.

You shrieked, laughing as he dramatically wobbled side to side, squeezing you tighter. "I take it back! I take it back—you're too warm!"

Harry only held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Nope. You're stuck with me now."

You sighed in defeat, but in reality, there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

After the playful attack of cozy Harry, you both finally settled down at the kitchen table, snacking on the pastries he brought. The warmth of the tea in your hands and the comforting presence of Harry beside you made everything feel even cozier.

Harry took a slow sip of his tea, then smirked as he reached for his phone. "By the way, Y/N… you say I look like Snoopy, but you look like this."

He turned his screen toward you, revealing a picture of Mei Mei and Abby from Turning Red—one of them clinging onto the other like an overly affectionate koala.

Your jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

Harry burst into laughter. "It's literally you! Look—" he zoomed in, pointing. "The way you latch onto me like a koala? Check. The round, squishable cheeks? Also, check."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could protest, he gently pinched your cheeks.

"So cute and round, I wanna bite them," he teased, tugging at them playfully.

You swatted his hands away, dramatically rubbing your cheeks. "Well, if I’m Abby, then you’re Snoopy!"

Harry gasped, feigning offense. "I am not—"

"Oh, you are," you cut him off, grabbing your phone and quickly pulling up the meme again. "Look at the resemblance! You are my Snoopy, and I am Abby. Case closed."

Harry groaned, shaking his head, but the wide grin on his face betrayed him. "I can’t believe I’m dating a gremlin."

"You love it."

"Unfortunately, I do." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before mumbling, "My little cutie."

You tried to fight the smile spreading across your face but failed miserably. With a satisfied sip of your tea, you knew one thing for sure—this was your kind of perfect.

...

I live for the puffer jacket =)

[rafesbimbo]

Gimmie Sum' Sugar

Warnings: 18+, 1.5k words, porn with slight plot, oral (f), overstimulation, degradation, praise, eren is a munch, dirty talk

a/n: this is for the ladies!!! eren in his natural habitat || likes nd reblogs r appreciated!!

The dorm room smelled like Eren—clean laundry, cedarwood cologne, and something masculine and warm you could never quite name. It wasn’t much: twin beds pushed together, string lights draped sloppily across the ceiling, a desk cluttered with textbooks and protein bars. But it was your space. Or at least it had been, every time he pulled you in by the wrist and told you to stay the night.

Tonight, it was late.

And you were waiting.

You sat on his bed, bare legs tucked under an oversized hoodie that hung off one shoulder. One of his. It still smelled like him too.

He’d texted you an hour ago: “Almost done. Keep the bed warm for me.”

You bit your lip and glanced at your phone again.

The door creaked open.

Eren walked in, dark hair tied back messily, gray hoodie half-zipped, exposing the sculpted ridges of his chest. His green eyes lit up when he saw you curled up on the bed, and that grin—the slow, hungry one—spread across his face.

“Hey, baby,” he said, voice a little rough, dropping his backpack by the door.

You stretched, letting the hem of your hoodie ride up your thighs just enough to tease. “Took you long enough.”

He was on you in two strides.

Warm hands slid up your thighs, and then his mouth was on yours—soft at first, lips tasting like cinnamon gum and something deeper. He kissed you like he missed you, like he’d been thinking about this all day.

And you knew he had.

“I was losing my mind in class,” he murmured against your lips. “Kept thinking about how sweet you sounded last night… the way you begged.”

You flushed hot, thighs pressing together instinctively. His hands didn’t miss the movement.

“Missed me?” you asked, voice small and teasing.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, one hand gripping your jaw gently.

“Always.” A pause. “You been good for me while I was gone?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

His praise hit like a jolt to your stomach. You melted, already sinking into that space where only Eren’s voice and hands existed. He tugged the hoodie up and off, baring your chest to the cool air, eyes raking over you like he was memorizing every inch.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed. “Mine.”

He kissed down your neck, slow and reverent, his hands roaming your body like he had all the time in the world. And for a while, he was soft—stroking, whispering against your skin, telling you how much he missed you, how good you were.

But it didn’t stay gentle for long.

“Lay back,” he murmured, voice going low. “Hands above your head.”

You obeyed instantly, heart hammering as he reached into the drawer beside the bed and pulled out the soft red restraints you knew so well. He kissed your wrists as he tied them, securing you to the bedframe.

“I want you to feel everything tonight,” he said, climbing between your legs. “No squirming. No hiding.”

His fingers trailed down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your panties. “Already wet for me?”

You whimpered, nodding.

He tugged them down with agonizing slowness, eyes fixed on you. “You always get like this when I talk to you, huh? Just a few words and you’re dripping.”

He settled between your thighs, breath hot against your core.

Then he licked you.

Eren’s tongue was slow at first, lazy and warm, dragging a long stripe up your folds like he was just getting a taste. Your thighs trembled as he dipped his tongue inside you, groaning at how wet you already were.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured against your pussy. “You’re already soaking. You really did miss me.”

You nodded, hands flexing against the restraints.

“Use your words,” he said, licking up to your clit and circling it with maddening patience.

“I missed you,” you whispered. “I missed your mouth, your hands… everything.”

He smiled, breath warm. “Yeah? You gonna be my good girl tonight?”

“Mhm..”

That earned you a deep groan and a sudden flick of his tongue right over your clit. You cried out, hips bucking, but his hands pressed down firmly on your thighs, pinning you in place.

“No moving,” he growled. “If you want to come tonight, you’re going to take everything I give you. Understand?”

You whimpered, nodding.

“Use your words.”

“Please..”

And just like that, his mouth was back on you, this time relentless.

He devoured you—messy, open-mouthed, hungry. His tongue worked in perfect rhythm, lapping at your clit while one thick finger slid inside you, curling just right. You moaned, hips twitching despite yourself, your wrists straining against the restraints as you felt your orgasm rushing up too fast.

“I can feel you clenching already,” he whispered against you. “You gonna come for me that quick, sweetheart? That needy?”

You nodded frantically, eyes rolling back.

“Then come,” he said, lips sealing over your clit.

You broke.

Back arched, a strangled cry tearing from your throat as your body shuddered under him. The orgasm hit like a wave, hot and blinding, and Eren didn’t stop—his mouth kept working you through it, licking you as your thighs trembled and your moans turned into soft little gasps.

But then—

He didn’t stop.

“E-Eren—too much—”

“No such thing,” he growled. “You can give me more. I know you can.”

He added a second finger, thrusting slow and deep, tongue circling your swollen clit with practiced ease. You were still twitching from the first orgasm, overstimulated and raw, but it only made the next one hit harder.

You cried out again, body arching off the bed as you came a second time, your voice cracking into a sob. Eren moaned against you, savoring every second of it.

“Look at you,” he said, pulling back for just a moment to watch your wrecked expression. “So pretty when you fall apart. So perfect for me.”

Your thighs were slick, your body trembling, and still—still—he didn’t stop.

He slipped his fingers out and replaced them with the smooth, cool bulb of a small vibe. You gasped at the sudden sensation, too sensitive to bear it.

“Eren—Eren please—”

“You can take it,” he murmured, kissing your inner thigh. “You’re my good girl, remember? You love this. You love making me proud.”

And fuck—you did.

Even through the tears forming in your eyes, the overstimulation, the twitch of your thighs—you wanted to make him proud.

So you nodded.

“Attagirl.”

The vibrator buzzed to life against your clit, and Eren just watched—stroking your stomach, whispering praise into your skin as your body writhed, helpless and bound.

“Good girl. So strong. So fucking sweet.”

Your body trembled violently under the buzz of the toy, breath hitching in stuttered gasps. Eren leaned over you, one hand resting low on your stomach to feel the way your muscles clenched with every pulse.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “You’re amazing like this. Letting go for me… letting me ruin you.”

You moaned through gritted teeth, the pleasure now toeing the edge of pain—your clit too sensitive, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. Tears beaded at the corners of your eyes.

But his voice kept you grounded.

“So pretty when you cry,” he whispered, brushing one away with his thumb. “Doesn’t mean you want me to stop though, does it?”

“N-No,” you choked out. “Please… don’t stop—need it—need you—”

That wrecked little sound you made did something to him. He kissed your forehead, then your temple, then dragged the vibrator lower just for a second to give your clit a break—before replacing it with his tongue again.

Hot. Wet. Relentless.

And then—he moaned against you.

That sound vibrated through your whole body. You came again.

Third time.

This one ripped through you. No warning. No build. Just white heat and mindless sobbing. Your back arched hard, a scream caught in your throat as your vision blurred, tears slipping free as your body convulsed under the unrelenting pleasure.

Eren didn’t stop.

His mouth stayed buried between your thighs, licking you through it until you were barely twitching, barely breathing, boneless and trembling.

And then—finally—he pulled back.

He kissed his way up your body, leaving a hot trail of praise against your skin.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured. “So strong. So perfect for me. That’s it, sweetheart. I got you.”

You were sobbing softly now—not from pain, but from the release. The sheer intensity. He gently undid your wrists, kissing each one like an apology, then gathered you into his arms.

Wrapped in a blanket, against his warm chest, you felt safe. Weightless.

He held you there, stroking your hair as your breathing slowed.

“You did so good for me,” he whispered again. “Took everything like my good girl.”

You nuzzled into him, voice small.

“I like when you wreck me.”

He chuckled, low and fond, lips brushing your temple.

“I know, baby. That’s why I’m gonna keep doing it. Over and over. Until all you can say is my name.”

You sighed, dazed and warm in his arms.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he murmured back, kissing your forehead. “And this perfect little pussy? It’s mine.”

[martygraciesversion381]

Hi could i request a ollie bearman x female!driver!reader smut

You can go any direction with the plot ofcourse but here's a little idea : they've been bestfriends since karting, teammates in f3 and f2 in prema, now in f1 together (ollie for haas reader for mclaren), been dating for a little over a year( grid knows they're dating fans don't).

So maybe a scenario where they have a day to themselves without the craziness of f1 in these two weeks before the Japanese gp.

Would be amazing if you could write this thanks!!

I KNOW LOVE

ollie bearman x driver!reader

warnings: smut, pnv, fluff

song: i know love ~ tate mcrae (ft. the kid laroi)

a/n: little smut (with ollie....i was shocked when i wrote it too) hope you'll like it!!! comments always appreciated

requests[closed for now]

masterlist

Rest days weren’t usual with Ollie since the beginning of his first f1 season, so when he had one, you guys made sure to spend all of the time together.

Today, you were both sitting on the couch, cuddled up, watching a movie. I mean, you weren’t really focusing on it since all you were thinking about was the warmth of Ollie’s embrace as he held you pressed up to his side. Home, that’s how it felt. 

Ollie pressed his lips to your temple and you smiled pressing your head to his chest. You had missed being this close to him. He looked down at you and smiled softly as he started to run his fingers through your soft hair playing with different strands of it. 

"Love? Can I turn off the movie?" He asked breaking the silence. You nodded and Ollie took the remote turning off the tv, the screen turning black. 

Ollie looked back down at you and planted a soft kiss on your lips. You melted at the feeling, his lips always soft and sweet against yours. As he pulled back, you gripped the front of his shirt chasing his lips connecting them again. 

Ollie groaned and gripped your waist bringing you closer as his lips devoured yours. He pressed his tongue against your lower lip and you let him in as he licked greedily into your mouth.  

Ollie slowly pulled back. "You want me to loose my mind pretty girl? Cause it’s working" 

You bit your lower lip and Ollie groaned before he pulled it from the trap that your teeth had created with his finger. He then cupped your cheek and brought your lips back to his. This time, your body fell back on the couch with his on top of yours. 

He smirked as he placed his hands on each side of your head. "Trapped princess?"  He pecked your lips before starting to place open mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck sucking and nibbling at the skin of your throat. 

"Ollie….missed you baby" you managed to get out between small moans and whimpers that were like music to Ollie’s ears. 

His fingers toyed with the bottom of your shirt before they slipped under it gently caressing the skin of your stomach. He nipped at your neck as he started to lift your shirt. "Arms up pretty girl"

You lifted your arms and he slipped your shirt off of you throwing it on the floor soon followed with his. Your eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest, god your boyfriend was a fucking Greek statue. Ollie caught you starring but didn’t make any comment about it, instead, he went back to his attack of kisses that traveled down to your collarbone as he sucked softly. 

He reached behind your back and unclasped your bra that he threw to the side. "Missed my girls" he said before he started to press open mouthed kisses to your breasts. You tangled your hands through his hair as he moved to play attention to one of your nipples licking and circling it with his tongue before moving to the other and giving it the same amount of attention.

He lifted his head and looked up at you. "Not gonna prep you today cause I missed you too much and I need to feel you now"

He pulled down your pants and panties in one go before pulling down his own. He gripped his dick in one hands lining up with your entrance as he slowly pushed into you. 

"Fuck…always so tight" he groaned as he bottomed out fully. You let out a moan, feeling him after a long time. He took one of your hands in his, intertwined your fingers before bringing them over your head as his other one gripped your thigh, pulling it higher. 

He started to move slowly in and out of you, each drag of his dick against your walls. You moaned your free hand moving to his shoulder gripping on it tightly.  He kept moving inside of you, each thrust sending a spark of pleaser through your body. 

Your grip tightened on his shoulder and he hissed at the pain of your nails in his back mixing with the pleaser of your pussy around him. 

"You’re squeezing me so tight pretty girl" he groaned pressing his chest closer to yours changing position so he hit deeper. 

"Ollie….m’close" you moaned in pleasure feeling him bullying your g-spot over and over again. 

"Cum for me my love" he groaned and you allowed yourself to fall over the edge your pussy pulsating around your dick as your release milked it. He groaned and quickened his pace before stilling and spilling inside of you. 

Ollie fell spent on top of you and nuzzled his head in your chest. You tangled your fingers in his hair as you both came down from your highs. 

"Love you" you mumbled before falling asleep with Ollie sleeping on top of you. 

______________________________________________________________

Taglist:

@motorsportbarbie13 @gorgeusreputation16 @swiftlyconehead @g00d--vibes @linnygirl09 @itsleslie1998 @rd14 @safeplaceholland

get added to the taglist

[angel-writes-here]

Desire in the Shadows

G-Dragon x AFAB! Reader x Choi Seunghyun Synopsis: Fun times on vacation lead to fun times in the bedroom Warnings: SMUT! Protected p in v, oral (both receiving) praise kink, pet names such as kitten, good girl, baby, etc. Semi exhibitionism, fingering. A/N: I hope you guys like this! Comment to be added to my taglist! ❣ Requests are OPEN

Dinner was running smoothly; laughing, conversation, and a nice flow of drinks for the whole group, it was warm, inviting and felt a smidge nostalgic. Big Bang was on a short break in between their shows and the group decided a mini vacation was the perfect way to spend it.

Jiyong kept his hand on your thigh the whole night, and while you weren’t shy about your boyfriend’s PDA, you would catch Seunghyun staring sometimes. If he seen that you noticed, his attention would divert, almost always. But tonight, the alcohol does it’s thing and gives everyone a little bit of liquid courage.

Back at the hotel, Daesung, Taeyang and Seunghyun bid you and Jiyong good night. The two of you start the night off with a movie, but it quickly turns into steamy make out session, tongues battling each others, soft moans and chuckles against each other's mouths, and teeth that would nibble someone's bottom lip. Both of you blissfully unaware of the older member’s actions.

He sits in his room, trying to watch tv but the image of you in your dress from dinner, sitting across from him, the dim lighting letting him see just enough of your cleavage to make him nervous is burned into his brain. He can’t stop thinking about it.

So, he does what any man would do when he can’t stop thinking about his hyung’s girlfriend, he rubs one out.

Unable to ignore the tight feeling in his pants he begins to pump his own length, legs sprawled out, door locked, of course.

Slowly at first, curses fly out under his breath, his eyes are closed as he leans back, stroking himself to the image and his mind flows to what your mouth would feel like, the texture of your tongue against the thickness of his cock. How it would feel swirling around the head. He knew it was wrong; you loved Jiyong and Jiyong loved you, but he just couldn’t help himself, he was hard at dinner and thank God he was able to conceal it.

His heavy breathing fills the room upstairs, soft groans and moans follow shortly as he picks up the pace, spreading his precum over himself to make his hand move quicker, This isn't about taking his time, it's about getting off so he can be done with it. A warm coil forms in his belly, and your name falls from his lips in hushed whispers as he finds an inconsistent pace the closer and closer he gets. It’s not long before hot white streaks are coating his stomach and he’s trying to catch his breath.

Meanwhile you and Jiyong have decided to put the pool to good use. At first you're swimming, lightly splashing each other and having a good time, then you were looking out over the city at the edge of the infinity pool, the lights illuminating the sky.

Jiyong comes up behind you, pressing kisses to your neck, you sigh and lean back into him, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his tongue darting out over your skin. You hum in response and he chuckles against your skin.

His fingers brush your chest, nipples hard from the cool air. The sensation travels down into your belly. Jiyong mimics his movements and thus a moan leaves your throat.

“Shh, jagi,” he teases.

“Do you want us to get caught?” Jiyong’s smirk is evident in his face. You can feel his cock, hard and ready against your ass. Jiyong’s hand dips under the water, quickly finding your clit and begins to rub circles slow and teasing.

Your hips jerk and small whimpers fall from your lips as he feels your grind down under the water.

“Aww, pretty girl, you want me to go faster?” His voice drips with a mock sympathy.

“Please,” you whine.

-

Seunghyun finally calms down, taking a cigarette out and stepping out onto his little balcony that overlooks the pool. He see’s you and Jiyong at the edge, and starts to hear your whimpers and moans softly bouncing off the walls of the building. He takes a drag off the cigarette, listening to you, practically feeling you on his all ready hard again cock.

He closes his eyes, it’s one thing for it to be a fantasy, to imagine everything, but now he has a memory he can cling to; for better or worse.

-

Jiyong can sense it, someone’s watching, and so can you, but your too far gone to care who it is or why they're doing it. If they want a show, then they’ll get one.

“Baby I ne- ah, need you,” you choke out. Jiyong turns you around and he attaches his lips to your neck smirking.

“Patience baby,” he teases. You see Seunghyun standing on his balcony. Your eyes are wide as you notice he doesn’t move.

“Fuck, Jiyong,” you say just a little louder than necessary.

Jiyong’s mouth forms into a smile against your skin.

“Is it him?” He asks against your neck.

“Mhm, watching us.” You whisper in his ear.

“You,” Jiyong teases before nibbling on your earlobe. Jiyong wasn’t oblivious to Seunghyun’s crush on you. But he wasn’t sure how deep his feelings for you ran, either.

You’re so focused on Seunghyun, who just stands there, not totally unaware you’ve caught him, when Jiyong gently starts fucking his fingers into your cunt.

“Oh fuck,” you sigh out as your head is forced to drop onto his shoulder from the pleasure. Your breathing becomes heavier and by the time you have the strength to pick your head back up, Seunghyun is gone. Your heart races a little.

Your hips move in time with Jiyong’s thrusts, his long fingers hitting your sweet spot.

“Fuck, fuck,” you choke out in his ear. Your arms go around his shoulders, holding onto him as you can feel your orgasm build stronger and stronger. The water around you is sloshing and you’re doing your best to not wake up anyone sleeping around you.

Your mouth is pressed beside Jiyong’s ear, panting heavily, when you catch a glimpse of Seunghyun downstairs, just inside the doors. Your mouth drops open in pleasure, eyes fluttering closed for a second as your orgasm washes over you and your hips roll, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

“Fuck, he just seen me cum,” you whisper in his ear. Jiyong can only chuckle as he quickly replaces his fingers with his cock.

“Now he can watch you get fucked,” he taunts as his hips move quickly. The water making waves around you.

“You wanted to get caught, didn’t you? Wanted him to see how pretty you look when you fall apart because of me? Hmm? So he watch you cum all over me and make a fucking mess?” he teases cockily. You groan in response, both form pleasure and small shred of embarrassment. You’d always wondered how bold Seunghyun would be. Tonight, you’re finding out.

Jiyong’s cock fills up every inch of your cunt, your nails dig into his bare skin as your breathing becomes more labored.

“Fuck, baby,” Jiyong curses as you clench around him. His hips snap against yours underwater.

“I can’t believe you wanted to get caught,” he laughs mainly to himself.

You can only whine in response, burying your head into his neck.

“Oh, so my hyung watching you get fucked turns you on,” he muses as a smirk appears on his face. He was teasing at first, but now he realizes you wanted this, maybe even fantasized about it. As your orgasm builds, Jiyong stills.

“Jiyong what the actual fuck,” you go to protest before he pulls out of you.

“Come on,” he huffs. The two of you get out of the pool and when you look, once again Seunghyun has disappeared. You towel dry off and you check his balcony; he isn’t there either.

“What are we doing?” Jiyong doesn’t answer. Only smirks and kisses your lips. He takes your hand and leads you inside.

“Go wash off,” he points to the bathroom once inside your room.

“Jiyong, seriously, you could’ve let me cum."

“Shh, stop protesting and trust me,” he winks. You do as he says and take off the damp swim suit, washing off in the shower. As the hot water cascades down your body, you hear the door to your room shut.

-

Seunghyun hears a knock on his door. When he see’s Jiyong his eyes grow wide and he slowly opens it, concealing the bottom half of his body behind it.

“Hey,” he says weakly, trying to look casual.

“You were watching us?” Jiyong can’t hide his smirk. Seunghyun’s face gives it all away.

“I, I, uh,” Seunghyun has no words.

“’s ok.” He shrugs.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He walks into the room. 

-

After the shower you walk out to see a sexy little set of lingerie that Jiyong had picked for you. He must have seen it and bought it while he was out shopping the day prior.

You slip it on and just as you’re sitting on the bed in a provocative pose, the door opens and you see Jiyong walk in, with Seunghyun in tow. Your eyes grow wide. Jiyong smirks at the sight before him.

“I-I didn’t know he was,” you scramble off the bed and Jiyong just walks over to you, both hands reaching up to rub your arms as Seunghyun stands on the other side of the room, he can’t quite make eye contact with you, but your eyes catch sight of the bulge in his pants. Your eyes widen and you look at Jiyong who has that knowing, cocky little smirk.

“It’s ok, you did exactly what you were supposed to.” He coaxes you back over to the bed.

“Come on, show me how beautiful you look,” he helps you move your body back to the way it was before they both entered. Seunghyun steals a glance at you, and what was meant to be a temporary flick of the eyes turned into him blatantly staring at you.

“God she’s gorgeous,” he groans. Jiyong smiles at you like you’re a prized painting he’s picked out.

“What do you say?” He taunts.

“T-thank you,” you blush under their gazes, Jiyong sliding in behind you pressing your back to his chest.

“I wanna watch,” he whispers in your ear and you glance at him, lip between your teeth.

“Come on, hyung.” Jiyong beckons. Seunghyun walks over, looking just over you, almost nervous to touch you.

“Tell him he can, kitten.”

You sit up from his back and take Seunghyuns hand, the nervous look on his face intensifies slightly as you pull him to you. You glance at his lips before you connect your yours to his.

Seunghyun follows you and gets on his knees as you lean back against Jiyong. Seunghyun moans into the kiss, eyes opening like he’s afraid he’s dreaming, only to see Jiyong placing feather like kisses onto your shoulders.

Seunghyun gathers a bit of courage and moves his lips to your neck, Jiyong doing the same thing at the same time. You gasp and their tongues dart out in unison to lick a stripe from your shoulder to just below your ear. The two move in sync, either together doing the same thing, or one right after the other. Your head is spinning when you feel Seunghyun’s hand rub gently over your clothed slit.

You whimper in response.

“Use your words,” Seunghyun reminds you playfully.

“Don’t tease me,” you squirm.

“Patience Jagi. I told him to take his time,” Jiyong whispers as his hands move to your chest, nipples hard through the thin material.

You feel each boy pull down a strap from the top and it’s swiftly removed. Seunghyun takes a moment to drink in your appearance.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” He smirks at you. Seunghyun nods like he’s all ready gone dumb.

He leans in and kisses your lips once more before attaching his mouth to your nipple, swirling his tongue around, flicking the hard bud.

“You want me too or just him?” Jiyong asks. Thought of both of them had you squeezing your thighs together.

You glance at Jiyong and look at his face closely.

“I want you both,” you gasp as Jiyong’s finger lightly squeeze’s your unattended nipple. He moans.

“Good girl,” he whispers in your ear causing you to shudder. You can feel the heat radiating from your pussy. Your thighs rub together as Jiyong wraps his mouth around your other nipple and both of them flick and stimulate you. They both look up at you through their lashes.

You’re leaning back against the pillows when your feel two hands go up the inside of your thighs; one is Seunghyun’s and one is Jiyong’s. Seunghyun abandons your breast, your nipple getting harder as the cool air hits it.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing at Jiyong, who kisses his way back up to your lips. Your mouth is open and his tongue runs across yours when you feel Seunghyun play with the straps of your panties, he playfully snaps one against you and you jump a little, eliciting a quiet chuckle from him.

Jiyong bites your lip gently before pulling away. He allows you to look at his Hyung as he settles between your legs once your panties are gone.

“Come on, watch him,” he mumbles and you blush as Jiyong nibbles on the skin on your neck.

Seunghyun spreads your soaked folds with his fingers.

“God you’re already this wet?”

“She got off on you watching her,” he teases and you whine, wanting to hide your face.

“Ah, ah, ah, good girls watch their boyfriend’s best friend eat their pussy. You watch and I’ll let you cum for him.” Your cunt clenches around nothing and Seunghyun takes that as his cue to start. He kitten licks at your clit, testing to be sure you’re comfortable. When your hips push down to him, he starts swirling his tongue in more consistent circles, making your back arch off the back of the bed.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan out. Seunghyun grins, his hips pressing down into the bed a little as he starts to rut.

“Fuck this is hot,” Jiyong groans against your ear.

“Watching him take care of you, you falling apart,” he captures your lips in a possessive kiss as Seunghyun’s tongue teasingly sticks in your hole tasting you.

He goes back to licking and lapping at your sensitive bud. You watch as Seunghyun quickly raises up a little and puts two of his fingers near your mouth.

“Suck them,” he says dominantly. Once again, your walls contract around nothing. He watches as his fingers disappear and his cock starts leaking as he feels the way your tongue swirls around them. Once they’re wet enough, he sticks his face back down in your heat and plunges his fingers into you, making you gasp and arch off the bed again. His fingers curl just enough to hit your g spot, your eyes almost brimming with tears once Jiyong plays with your nipples again, the stimulation feeling phenomenal and slightly over-whelming.

“Fuck, I’m, ah,” you whimper. Your hips roll with Seunghyun’s movements and he’s practically drunk on you, just content with making you feel as good as ever.

“Ah, fuck,” you hear Jiyong whimper as you look over and see his hand in his pants.

“Come, fuck,” your eyes shut at the intense feeling, “come here,” you pant as he inches closer. You replace his hand with your own, teasing him slightly as you pump his cock for him, his head falling back.

“Fuck,” he groans. Seunghyun speeds up his movements, your orgasm beginning to form causing your hand to quickly lose its initial rhythm.

“’s ok, jagi,” he pants slowly helping you take your hand off and replacing it with his own, wanting you to enjoy every ounce of pleasure you can.

“Ji,” you whimper over at him, the wet sounds filling the room.

“Go ahead,” he groans.

Your pleasure crashes into you like a truck, white stars appearing in your vision briefly as your body leaves the bed for a moment, your head digging into the mattress.

Your breathing is rapid and uncontrolled as Seunghyun beings to clean you up with his warm and smooth tongue, the ceiling being the only thing you can somewhat focus on until you feel Seunghyun’s lips just above your navel.

He kisses his way back to your lips, his tongue brushing yours.

“All fours,” he commands and you nod, too stimulated to speak at the moment.

You do as your told, Jiyong quickly tossing Seunghyun a condom. You hear the packet open and you lick your lips, watching your boyfriends cock leak precum.

“You want it?” He inches over to you and you look up at him as Seunghyun slides the condom on. Jiyong’s cock hits your lips a few times like he’s teasing you.

“Can you imagine if housekeeping came in? They’d see you and instantly see how you’re well you’re doing, taking both our cocks so well.” He praises and you close your eyes as the thought gives you a rush.

“Open.” He says and at the same time Seunghyun slams into you quickly, your mouth involuntarily opening from the pleasure it sends through you.

You choke out a moan before taking Jiyong’s cock into your mouth slowly bobbing your head as Seunghyun sets as steady pace. Jiyong can feel your moans and groans vibrate through him, the feeling magical and surreal.

You can feel Seunghyun’s fingers digging into your hips.

“Fuck you’re taking my cock so well, ah,” he hisses as he looks down, watching it disappear and reappear with every thrust.

“Such a good girl for us,” Jiyong praises with love and adoration in his eyes as he strokes your cheek.

“So, fucking good,” Seunghyun pants as his thrusts get quicker. Your muffled shriek comes out as you feel him hit and practically abuse your sweet spot, the pleasure becoming overwhelming in the best way possible.

You do your best to keep a good rhythm for Jiyong, but it’s no use. So instead, he has you sit still.

“Tap me if it’s too much,” he murmurs before rocking his own hips into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat, triggering a gag that’s muffled.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Seunghyun mumbles.

“Just watch how good she does” Jiyong says as his hips start slamming into you, his cock choking you slightly as he feels your cheeks slide around his cock. He throws his head back, his orgasm approaching swiftly. It's hot, sticky, sweet and salty mixed together.

Jiyong.

“You’re doing so damn good. Taking it like a pro,” your pussy clenches around Seunghyun at Jiyong’s breathless words.

“Fucking hell, keep doing that,” he pants. Jiyong smirks knowing how his words of praise effect you.

“My pretty girl, all fucked out and still listening so well,” he praises.

“Do a good job and make him feel good,” your eyes close as, once again your walls clench.

Seunghyun slams into you with fury, Jiyong’s cock falling out of your mouth as your head drops, fingers grasping the sheets beneath you as another orgasm rips through you.

“Ah, ah, fuck,” Seunghyun chokes out as he fills the condom with his load. He pulls out of you, taking off the condom and tying it up. He takes a moment to catch his breath.

“One more baby girl, one more,” he kisses your lips sweetly, then your forehead before he takes Seunghyun’s place. Jiyong rolls on his own condom, swiftly filling you back up. The over stimulation causing your body to tremble.

“Give me a second,” you pant as you feel him leave kisses on your shoulder blade.

“You’re doing so good, such a good girl for us,” he whispers and you take a deep breath. Seunghyun watches intently.

Jiyong slowly starts to move, his hips easy and unrushed, both of you moaning as your walls immediately begin to close around him at the full feeling.

You look over at Seunghyun who looks totally fucked out.

“Come here,” you beckon him over, instantly putting his cock in your mouth. He hisses as your tongue swirls over his head, you tongue flat against his slit.

“Ah,” his hips jerk, forcing your nose to his pelvic bone.

“Mm, fuck. Doing so good,” Jiyong grunts as his hand reaches around to rub your clit. You whimper against Seunghyun’s cock that’s all ready twitching and you’re close to your own orgasm once again.

“Fuck just a little more, come on you can do it.” He starts slamming his hips into you brutally, skin slapping skin fills the otherwise quiet room. Seunghyun matches his speed and as if a giant wave hits, the three of you explode at the same time.

Jiyong into the condom.

You all over his cock.

Seunghyun down your throat.

The two boys pull out of you at the same time, both flopping on the bed. You fall on your side, facing Seunghyun as Jiyong crawls in behind you, peppering your shoulder with kisses and love bites.

“That was amazing, y/n,” Seunghyun compliments.

“I told you she’s great,” Jiyong says proudly making you hide your face in Seunghyun’s neck. When you go to stand to get in the shower, Seunghyun practically catches you from your wobbly legs. He smiles pridefully at you.

“You ok?” You swat his chest playfully.

You nod sheepishly. The boys exchange a smirk.

The shower is large enough for the three of you and warm, the three of you step in there together, mainly so you don’t fall. Seunghyun washes your back for you while Jiyong works on your front, lathering the soap. Seunghyun washes over the curve of your ass, giving it a small squeeze.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Jiyong asks as he rubs the loofa over your stomach.

“Mhm,” you say still in a slight daze. One that makes Jiyong chuckle and his heart swell.

“Is it something you think we need to do again?” Seunghyun whispers in your ear. You crane your neck to look up at him and nod.

“Mhm,” you bring his neck down for a sweet kiss.

“Thank you,” you smile lazily at him as Jiyong washes the front of your legs. Once he’s back on his feet, you kiss him.

“Thank you,” you smile letting your foreheads rest together again. The three of you alternate washing duties. After your shower, you put on one of Jiyong’s shirts and a fresh pair of panties and cuddle up to both of them, falling asleep in between them.

“She’s so pretty when she sleeps,” Seunghyun compliments quietly. Jiyong nods, looking down at you with pride.

“You want wake her in the morning?” Seunghyun smirks and Jiyong nods, knowing exactly what his friend is talking about.

-

The next morning, your stir awake to a tongue lapping little circles on your bud, Seunghyun smiles down at you as your face is twisted in pleasure and still a little sleep. You can’t help but writhe beside him as Jiyong’s tongue claims your heat.

“Good morning, princess,” Seunghyun’s morning voice says in your ear. You shutter at how deep and sexy it sounds. A whimper escapes you and before you can protest, Seunghyun’s lips are attaching to your neck, biting down on it causing a small mark.

“God you’re so sexy in the morning,” Seunghyun rasps. You kiss his lips passionately as your hand pushes Jiyong further into you. Your foreheads rest together as you cum, your breaths short and labored.

Jiyong climbs up, flipping the blankets off of his head with a wide gummy grin.

“Morning, Jagiya,” he smiles as he practically lays on top of you to kiss you. You hum into it, not ready to leave the bed.

“Can’t we stay here all day,” you slightly pout.

“We have to leave the room, babe.” Seunghyun says with a kiss to your forehead before getting up.

Downstairs you meet Daesung and Taeyang for breakfast. They’re at the table when the three of you walk in. Both of them wearing knowing smirks.

“What?” you ask, a faint blush painted onto your cheeks.

“Did you guys sleep ok last night?” Daesung asks with a grin wider than normal.

“Slept fine,” you shrug.

“Sounded like it,” Taeyang says before the two fall into roars of laughter. You blush and hide your face in Jiyong’s neck.

“Hey, don’t be jealous we got her and you didn’t.” Jiyong teases.

“Wait, what do you mean we?” Now all of you are blushing a shade of pink as you sit down to have breakfast.

Tags: @breakmeoff (Thank you for the idea babe!)

*Please do not repost or copy my work*

Love notes, comments and requests are appreciated!

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

You once mentioned that both Soldier girl and Invincible dated before, can we have a bit more of it plsss 🥺🥺??

And i know that TheBoys series are in pause/or ended the series (idk it's been while for me , idk what happened) BUT invincible had like a new season. :3333

Eeeeee yes of course!!

I had to go back through my soldier girl au stuff as a refresher 😁

its one of those 'only when you're young' type of romances

soldier girl and mark are reckless with their attraction for one another. they're young and naive after all. one day the one and only omni man pays a visit to stan edgar at Vought towers, throwing accusations of how edgar was using you to manipulate mark. the seven was barely being formed and were still looking for new members. stan had given mark a thought, but much like the same reason he kept you out of the seven he decided against mark: too young.

stan edgar being the only one not pissed at you dating mark. stillwell urged him to force you to break up with the boy. edgar found this relationship amusing. and of course it did cross his mind that a child between you and someone who is half viltrumite would possibly be the strongest supe in the world.

homelander being. . . homelander 🙃 while mark is hanging out with William, homelander finds them and nearly beats mark to death (after this, omniman's disgust toward vought turns to pure, unadulterated loathing). it wouldn't have been so bad if mark had agreed to break up with you. it made mark only more defiant toward your brother and omni man.

lets not forget about debbie. she just thinks the men are acting stupid and happily invites you over. debbie becomes the mother you never had.

"Get her out of my house." The man you'd always known as Omni Man, looms over you in civilian clothing. He still looked capable of ripping you apart.

"Oh Nolan, stop acting like that." Debbie's harsh voice cuts through as she places a plate of food before you. "You're being very rude. (y/n) is our guest. Now sit down and join us for dinner."

Debbie thinks you're a sweet girl and feels sad for you when you confess to her that you never knew any sort of mother, let alone mother figure. crimson countess tried her best but homelander told you she was a bad influence. and you always listened to your big brother.

being in an actual home was so foreign to you. there was warmth in every corner (except nolan) and it made mark feel warm inside to see his mother dote on you. He could see you integrating into his personal circle.

[dearmyloveleys]

Weak Hero Class 2 : A show that hits you hard into a coma — only if you love Season 1 and Yeon Sieun. Otherwise, it's only decent (compared to WHC1).

An honest review of S2's story and writing from someone who loves WHC1

I love S1 as much as the next person (I sure hope my neighbour fuckin watched WHC1). WHC1 is just about perfect in every aspect of film making and script. While still decently directed and written, WHC2 loses much of the quiet ambiance and nuance that made WHC1 all the more poignant, as a show under the action genre. Poignant and action don’t come together often in one sentence, which is why WHC1 stole the limelight for me. WHC1 holds the most mind-boggling balance of emotions, plot, action and characters in its harsh grip.

WHC2 is really loud when it it’s loud, and doesn’t come back down to the level of rumination that makes audiences think on their own part, staring at the black screen of their device and to be emotionally affected, aka screaming crying throwing up, compared to WHC1. There’s quite a bit of telling and not showing, which makes WHC2 lose out on the charm that WHC1 had.

Fight/action choreography:

S1 is amazing. Had me on the edge of my seat. Engaging. What really hooked me about the fight choreography in S1 is that it tells a story about the character in and itself. A good fight sequence should always be able to let the audience in on more of how the character thinks and acts — How Sieun uses his surroundings as an advantage, How Suho is not only adept at martial arts, but also quick to think on his feet. How even the thug Gilsoo fights with savagery and brute strength. WHC1 found nuance in its fight choreography with characterisation.

Though the action scenes in S2 are visually stunning, and I love Sieun’s fight with Seongje on the roof (top 10 action scenes in my life in a series) there’s a point where there’s just a lot of flashbang and no real innate story like a lot of action shows out there. The fights don’t strike the balance of character and action as well as WHC1 do especially with the new characters.

They nearly achieve it with Baku and Baekjin in the finale fight — but unfortunately, we don’t spend just enough time with the duo as kids to understand why they fell out to empathise enough, just why they fight the way they do.

Gotak’s taekwondo style fighting wasn’t shown enough, and neither were his backstory and motivations. This severely bumped down the interest I had in his action sequences.

I must say, I severely enjoy Juntae’s fight scenes. He reminds me so much of Sieun and the juxtaposition of his cuddly character with his tenacity tells a very compelling character story. I am very interested in his backstory, which we don’t get. S3 perhaps?

Character writing and handling:

Everything they do with Sieun in WHC2 — perfect. Yum. Angst. Trauma. How he fights. How he lets the Eunjang Gang in. Which is why I say in my header that WHC2 hits hard only if you love WHC1 and are watching it for Sieun, because we already know well what are Sieun's motivations and feelings. If I were a webtoon fan or just watching S2 as a story on its own, characterisation and development of the new cast fall a tad bit short.

Not going into specifics, but I do wish they extended S2 into 10 episodes, just to get us to understand the new cast better. In S1, we are brought along the ride in real time on how Suho works at a barbecue restaurant part time, how Beomseok suffers from abuse and how Sieun feels so empty + dislikes his parents. In S2, much of what we know about the Eunjang Gang + antagonists are told to us via exposition and dialogue. Telling and not showing is a very big no no in writing circles, as it alienates the audience. Even if there are scenes that give us a glimpse into who they are, it’s not enough and I’m left blinking: you are like my papa

Juntae’s school room with his weeb friends and his iPad wallpaper — amazing, I want more. Why is there only a 5min long scene of that?

Hyuntak’s accident with his knee and Baku going ballistic about it — uh, I want more..? Can I? Please? Don’t give me exposition.

The writers were almost good with how they handled Baku and his relationship with Baekjin. They clearly spent the most effort and time fleshing them out. Baku is the most compelling character this season with all the scenes with his father, the Union and Baekjin. But still, it’s not enough. If I were the writer, I would have dedicated an entire episode detailing Baku's life and he will the character we follow the entire episode. We'll get to know his childhood with Baekjin, how they fallout, how he meets Gotak, a fight scene of him going out against the Union, how Gotak got his knee injured etc, right up till the present timeline.

Given more time, Baku and Baekjin's backstory would have formed a very strong literary foil against Suho and Sieun's history, as both pairs clearly have guilt and trauma from violence. Furthermore, one of the pair taught the other how to fight.

I really would have loved a morally grey antagonist which they shaped Baekjin up to be, but we don’t get anything more than his scene at the orphanage. Then he dies. (Am I just a view to you, writers?)

Lastly, the writers seem to be confused about who is the real protagonist of the season - Sieun or Baku. The writers want to build on both, but the focus becomes convoluted and it messes up the story pacing.

Story pacing (my largest gripe with WHC2):

WHC1 have the same 8 episodes duration and somehow manage to have no extraneous/unneeded scenes. Nothing more or nothing less. Every scene is impactful and matters to either the plot or characters. Right at the midway point of Ep4, WHC1 changes its arc from an external antagonist (Gilsoo) to an internal antagonist (Beomseok and Co).

WHC2 is a little confused with its pace; sometimes dawdling, sometimes fast. I found myself watching along at some scenes only because Sieun was there. Characters entered and left scenes whenever they liked, as though the writers weren't sure what to do to start or end the scene with purpose.

WHC2's quiet scenes don't hit as hard as WHC1's. The lack of in-depth characterisation for the new cast and too much needed world-building in a short span is the cause. WHC1 spent a lot of time only with Suho, Sieun and Beomseok + their antagonists, while WHC2 is rushing to explain all about the Union, the Eunjang Boys and Sieun's continuing trauma. Hence, when they go all quiet and accompany each other, there's not much emotional attachment going around. Imo, a 10 episode season is really needed for an improvement in the pacing and writing, which will make their quiet moments hit harder.

This is even a harsh comment for my standards (because I genuinely love Suho and Sieun's relationship): If the writers wanted to keep to 8 episodes, they should have removed some scenes of Sieun with Suho/reminiscing about Suho. Ultimately, there isn't enough pay-off for all the pining Sieun does and the ending is still the same (Suho returns for 3 minutes in the last episode). Removing one or two scenes would have greatly improved the focus and cohesion of other active characters who matter more in determining the finale of WHC2. Definitely a fair bit of fanservice going on.

Overall comments:

I won't say WHC2 is the worst. On its own, it's fun. It definitely does a more than decent job at reconciling WHC1 with new characters and plot of WHC2. The action scenes are its best features, which is a bummer for me, as the characters were the stars of WHC1. But we're comparing to WHC1 here — WHC1 is unbearably gentle where it needs to be and achingly harsh where it needs to be. Many aspects are concise but well developed at the same time. As a writer and someone who loves films/tv series, I find that WHC1 is truly a masterclass in nuance and writing, especially in the action genre. WHC2 unfortunately, isn't able replicate the delicate balance that WHC1 achieved with the story's highs and lows.

[pankowcrumbs]

Hands X Austin Butler (Requested)

MasterList

It was his hands. That was the first thing I noticed, even before his voice or the way his hair curled just slightly at the nape of his neck. His hands. Strong. Veiny. Almost too elegant for a man who looked like he could lift me with one arm and often did.

Austin was across the room now, sat on the sofa, thumbing through a script with a faint furrow in his brow. The lamp beside him cast amber warmth over the room, and the firelight danced across his skin in that way I never quite got used to. He was beautiful, sure but it was his hands that truly drove me mad.

I watched as he dragged one hand through his hair the tendons shifting, the veins in his forearm rising with the motion. My thighs pressed together involuntarily, a subtle, automatic reaction.

He didn’t even know what he was doing to me.

Or maybe he did.

“Y’know,” I said, walking over and curling up beside him, “you have the most unfairly attractive hands I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Austin looked at me, bemused. “My hands?”

I nodded, letting my fingers skim along his forearm where the veins popped beautifully. “Mmm. They’re… ridiculous.”

He chuckled, a low, warm sound in his chest. “Alright. I’ve heard I’ve got nice eyes, good lips. But hands? That’s a new one.”

“Well then, let me be the first to say it,” I replied, sitting up a little straighter. “Your hands are beautiful. But not in a delicate way. They're veiny and calloused and…” I sighed, a dramatic little groan, “just so bloody capable.”

Austin raised a brow. “Capable?”

“Yeah.” I trailed my fingers over the back of his hand, feeling the rougher skin over his knuckles. “You look at some hands and you think, ‘they play piano.’ Yours? I look at them and think, ‘they build houses. They throw people over shoulders. They pin girls to walls.’”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. “Jesus, baby.”

“I’m serious,” I grinned. “And when you clench your fists...ugh.” I reached out, taking his wrist in one hand. “Do it. Just yeah, like that.”

He clenched, and right on cue, the veins in his arms stood out, proud and impossible to ignore.

“God, that’s not fair,” I muttered, openly ogling. “That should be illegal.”

Austin’s eyes darkened slightly as he watched me, that cheeky smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Never thought I’d get you going with just my hands.”

I leaned in, resting my chin on his shoulder, lips just near his ear. “They’re so artistic too. Long fingers, strong grip. The way you hold things… how your fingers move. It’s like you were sculpted with that in mind.”

“You talkin’ about me or a Michelangelo statue?”

“Same thing, really,” I whispered, letting my hand slide down his bicep slowly. “It’s not just how they look. It’s what they do. How they play guitar. How they hold me at night. The way you rub slow circles on my back when I can’t sleep. The way you cup my face when you kiss me like I’m the only thing that matters.”

He turned his face slightly, lips brushing mine. “You say stuff like that and I’m not gonna be responsible for what happens next.”

I smiled against his mouth. “Good. That’s what I’m aiming for.”

Austin placed the script on the coffee table without breaking eye contact. “You really like ‘em that much, huh?”

“You’ve got no idea,” I murmured, pulling his hand into mine, flipping it over to trace the lifelines of his palm. “These hands ruin me.”

He was watching me closely now, his breath hitching slightly as I kissed the centre of his palm, slow and deliberate. His fingers twitched just slightly, his other hand coming up to rest on my thigh.

“And when they’re wrapped around my throat…” I let the sentence hang, watching his eyes darken visibly, a flush rising on his cheeks.

He stilled. “Say that again.”

I tilted my head, letting my nails graze the back of his hand. “When your hands are wrapped around my throat. Not hard. Just enough to remind me who’s in charge. It’s hot, Austin. It makes me feel… owned.”

He groaned, low and wrecked. “You can’t say shit like that to me and expect me to sit here.”

“Who said I wanted you to sit?” I whispered.

In a flash, he had me straddled on his lap, his hands... those hands gripping my waist like they were made for it. I could feel every line, every callous, the heat of his palms branding me through the thin cotton of my shirt.

“You really like the veins?” he murmured against my neck, lips brushing over my pulse.

“Mmm.” I rolled my hips against his ever-so-slightly. “Like a bloody roadmap. I want to follow them with my tongue.”

He laughed darkly. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna kill me.”

His hand came up to my jaw, fingers guiding my chin as he kissed me hard, deep, consuming. I melted into it, into him, the feeling of his hands cradling my face and then sliding into my hair making me dizzy with want.

“Look at me,” he whispered, when we finally broke for air.

I did.

“I like when you talk like that. When you tell me exactly what does it for you.”

“Why do you think I do it?” I smirked. “You should see your face.”

He licked his bottom lip, eyes flicking down to mine. “Say the thing again.”

I bit my lip, teasing him.

“Say it.”

I leaned forward, letting my hands trail up his chest. “I like your hands wrapped around my throat.”

He exhaled sharply, eyes fluttering closed for a second.

“They make me feel small. Powerless. But in the best way. Like I can just let go. And you’ll keep me right where you want me.”

His grip on my hips tightened. “Christ, baby.”

I pressed a kiss just below his ear. “And I know those same hands that take control like that… they’re the ones that hold me when I’m sick. That cradle my face when I cry. That brush my hair back when I’m too tired to talk.”

He nodded slowly, eyes shining a little. “I love you, y’know.”

I kissed his lips, soft this time. “I know. And I love your hands.”

He grinned. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Better than being predictable,” I winked.

We stayed like that for a while his hands splayed across my ass, mine exploring the lines and dips of his arms. Occasionally I’d kiss a knuckle or trace a vein, and he’d sigh like it was physically doing him in. Maybe it was.

He pulled me close, burying his face in my neck. “Gonna start wearing gloves at this rate.”

I laughed. “You wouldn’t.”

“You’re right. Wouldn’t deprive you.”

“You’d miss the praise,” I teased.

He pulled back to look at me, face soft. “You talk about my hands like they’re holy.”

“Maybe they are,” I whispered. “They’ve certainly delivered a few religious experiences.”

That made him laugh again, full and real and boyish.

We eventually moved to the bedroom slowly, deliberately where I let him show me just how good those hands really were. They slid beneath my clothes with reverence, found every place I needed to be touched, held me with a tenderness that made my chest ache.

And later, when his palm pressed gently around my throat, and he looked into my eyes with that steady, quiet control I wasn’t thinking about art or anatomy or anything at all. Just him. His hands. His love.

[undercurrent-if]

Undercurrent

Undercurrent is a sci-fi, mystery, surfing interactive fiction story that dives into the deepest parts of our minds. The game is rated 17+ for mature content.

Synopsis:

You return to the Cove after six years, older, quieter, and carrying a special kind of grief. Once a competitive surf prodigy, you vanished after the death of someone close to you, someone who died in these waters.

But the ocean hasn’t forgotten you. Neither has the Cove.

Now, in this small town, teetering between real and tech, strange phenomena ripple through the waters. Surfboards pulse with forgotten data. Tides shift too suddenly. Whispers drift through the mist. And your old board—silent for years—begins humming with signals that shouldn’t exist.

As you retrace old steps, you’ll uncover hidden secrets, rekindle, or avoid fractured relationships, and confront the truth of what happened the night everything changed. Someone—or something—knows you’re back. And the waves are calling for you.

Choose how you navigate the past:

Will you pursue the mystery beneath the sea, even if it means unraveling yourself?

Will you ride the tide toward truth, or let it pull you under?

Will you reconnect with the person you once loved—before they became someone else?

Because in the Cove, nothing stays buried forever. Not love. Not guilt. Not the dead.

Features:

Customize your Surfer's gender, sexuality, and more!

Romance one of four characters! Or romance the one that never made it out of the Cove.

Hone your surfing skills! Do you prefer the natural way, or will you let tech help you?

Uncover the mystery that is under the Cove.

Dynamic environment and choices!

Multiple endings!

Characters

Wren - Past friend or something more? F (22)

Wren always seemed a little too aware of things no one else noticed.

You remember Wren barefoot on the cliff’s edge, the salt spray catching in her hair, her eyes blazing with something fierce, something breakable all at once. She turned toward you, grinning like she knew a secret you hadn't earned yet, and said in a jovial voice: "One day, we’ll go so far out the waves can’t find us. Promise me you’ll come too." You never answered. You thought you had forever. "You used to be my anchor. Now you're the mystery pulling me under."

Ash Vega - M/F (29)

Runs a small surf repair and outfitting shop that's struggling to survive under the corporate tech expansions. Ash’s hands were steady even when the world wasn’t. You remember them pressing a hand over yours, guiding you to fix a cracked fin on your first board. "It’s not broken. Just needs someone who won’t give up on it." You didn’t realize until later that they weren't talking about the board at all. "You left. I stayed. Don’t expect it to be easy between us."

Kye Onari - M/F (26)

Kye came to the Cove, riding the strange waves without fear — and might know more about the ocean's changing patterns than they admit. You remember Kye laughing, reckless and wild, as they dove straight into a rip current like they could outrun death itself. "If you’re not scared, it’s not worth it." You stood frozen on the sand that day — and Kye never looked back. "You think you can keep secrets from the ocean? You're adorable."

Imani Reyes - F (30)

A researcher specializing in tech-oceanic anomalies. The first time you saw Imani, she was kneeling on the rocks, studying a tide pool like it was a portal to another world. She didn’t notice you watching until she said, softly: "Everything leaves traces if you know where to look." When your eyes met, you felt like you were the one being studied. "You make me want to believe in things I shouldn't."

Cassian "Cass" Rook - M (31)

Act like nothing matters, but every scar says otherwise. Cass stood alone by the firepit, one foot grinding lazy circles into the sand, a cigarette burning low between two fingers. He stared up at the stars — half the constellations smothered by the haze of the city beyond the cliffs — and let out a hollow laugh. "Doesn’t matter how good it feels out here. Everything good still finds a way to leave." He said it like a joke, but he didn’t smile. Neither did you. "I’m not here to be your hero. I’m barely here to save myself."

DEMO JUNE 1ST

@interact-if

[catzunnyuan]

More of this (jiuyuan Omegaverse)

YQY was an alpha but bonding with Xuan Su left him permanently suppressed and infertile. He let's everyone believe he was always a beta because it fits his even tempered facade and the way he likes to lead the sect.

After SY ends up on BZP YQY thinks he'll become LQG's alpha - after all, sqq is masquerading as a beta and YQY certainly isn't going to tell, and SY takes administrative command over the peak as is they're already bonded

Qqq and some of the others believe SY is intentionally courting LQG and taking bets on when LQG will realize he's gotten married without knowing.

Thus after the IAC when SY is doing a timeshare on qjp (sqq either pretends he doesn't notice or chases him off), the other peak lords get upset and start talking about sqq as a homewrecker (no one mentions the brothels anymore now that the omega is out of the bag)

SY is oblivious and fretting and trying to get sqq to repent for how he treated LBH but sqq insists the beast deserved it and even if he didn't they're even since sqq saved LBH's life by throwing him into the abyss.

(sy's mind still grinds to a halt over that logic because it's not wrong on the surface but narratively makes no sense bc why would the scum villain save the protagonist?)

Sqq makes YQY present sy with his guan and courtesy name (though sqq picked out both) bc sqq doesn't want lqg to do it and he doesn't think it appropriate to guan his own mate, whose wrist he immediately takes and scents proprietarily.

LQG squawks in outrage but sy is too busy with his mental gymnastics and being scent drunk to notice. SY takes tea with sqq and is informed sqq is graciously allowing sy to court him and here's the schedule he expects to be followed to the stroke.

That's when SY goes full circle comphet and thinks this is normal actually because they're a/o, so he agrees, scents some blankets and pillows for sqq then returns to BZP in a daze.

(wherein he breaks LQG's brain with his "don't be silly I can't be your alpha, you're my teacher")

Thankfully sqq told LBH he was throwing him into the abyss to save his stupid life and that he wasn't worthy, but sy chose him so he better come back quick because sy is going to be sad the whole time.

So LBH returns from the abyss with all kinds of precious treasures for sy (though half go first to sqq bc life debt but end up with sy anyway) sqq never likes LBH but he grudgingly accepts that a) he's useful and b) better under SQQ's watch than causing trouble elsewhere.

Their relationship goes all of the way up to fully neutral when LBH gives sqq a breakdown of his full skill set and sqq can suddenly access the memories and torment the dreams of people he hates. A stiff step child-step parent relationship.

[transboyswitchytales]

'I Am Like a Small Creature Swallowed Whole By a Monster'

Agatha Harkness x Reader Harkness (witch/familiar) x Rio Vidal

18+ MDNI

Mommy Kink/ Daddy Kink/Mind Reading/ Witches Familiar/ Soul Bonds/Married/ ouija is not a verb/ Gore/ Hurt/ Comfort

Previous chapters on A03

Chapter 10: “Hold my hand in yours, and we will not fear what hands like ours can do.” ― Danny P. Jackson, The Epic of Gilgamesh

“Should you open it?” Jen asked, looking at you, and you reached for the note and sniffed it. Rio grabbed her jagged dagger and sliced the box open to show a blast from the past. 

Putting it down on the sofa, the box read. 

Ouija

You’d gotten an Ouija board in the mail with your name written on it. By the smell of it, someone had written your first and last name in blood. Harkness was written in janky script with drops of dark red splattered on the ‘s’s.  

“Does that mean you have to play?” Billy asked and

“She’s not touching that board,” Agatha says as you move to bring down candles. Rio shakes her head at Agatha, the two are in total agreement. 

The coven all tries to talk at once as you put the candles in a circle and start to light them. 

“Agatha..” Alice says, but you knew this would happen. 

“It was sent for her,” Jen says, holding up the note you’d dropped on the sofa, the one written in blood. 

��I have to.” You whisper, finishing the circle of candles, looking down at the board.

“No way, that’s not happening. You witches can play with the board game. My wife isn’t touching it. Neither of them are.” Rio chimes in, and Agatha turns to look at her amazing Rio. Their eyes meet, and they’re prepared to burn the house down before you touch the board.

“On the road-“ Billy says to explain to you, but you nod.

“I’m aware.” 

“You are?” He says, confused. 

“They have a soul bond link as she’s their familiar. So, of course, she knows.” Lilia says, and Agatha doesn’t chastise her for commenting about the bond. She’s too busy having a silent conversation with Rio. 

“It was written for me in animal blood. Someone wants to talk to me.” You say sitting cross-legged in the circle. 

“ No ,” Agatha answers angrily. 

“How do you know it’s animal blood?” Jen asks, looking at the note. Her fingers held the edges like they might be able to dust for fingerprints. 

“She's part green witch, part divination witch, part Zooloatric. I think she may even be Tempestarius. You’ve got a lot of talent, kiddo.” Lilia says, and you don’t look at her. 

“What is all of that?” Billy whispered to Jen, who waved her hand to shush him. 

“Let’s stay on topic. I’ll shred that thing before I let my girls touch another Ouija board.” Rio says as both she and Agatha weren’t liking them discussing your magic, again.

“I can do necromancy too.” You say letting your finger touch the flame of the candle. You don’t look at them when you admit it. Shocking both your wives by sharing such a thing to them.

“You can?” Teen says, looking a little scared. You feel the rest of the coven grow uneasy at your admission. It wasn’t something normalized in the witch community. It was demonic and closer to the edge of what's allowed in pagan practices. 

“There’s a natural balance, Billy. It’s not just bringing someone back. Something or someone always pays a price. I think someone wants something from me. Why else the animal blood?”You pull at the knots in your hair as you say it anxiously.

“To scare you?” Alice tried lamely, and you shook your head.

“That’s not just any animal's blood either. It’s a wild boar's blood. And an old one by the smell of it. A lot of pagan culture around the boar stems from the bringing of war. Someone threw the gauntlet down. Someone wants to fight.” You say, looking up at the last sentence to Agatha and then Rio. 

“Then a fight they’ll get,” Agatha said so cold Teen's hair stood on his arms. 

“Can’t Death just track down the person?” Jen says and Alice arches an eyebrow at your wife. 

“It’s not going to be traceable.” You whisper, but Rio holds out her hand for the note.

“My wife is right. It probably won’t be. But let’s see what I can do.” Rio said, and the note was given to Death. Jen took a step back like she didn’t want to actually touch Rio. 

Your partner didn’t mind as she studied the paper, sniffed it like you had, than licked it. 

“An ‘A’ for my favorite witch, an old wild boar. Obviously not in Boston, It was killed not too from here, not of this forest, that’s for sure. Paper is cheap, tastes like gravel, and lumber…gunpowder? But she’s right; whoever wrote it was mad. And they gutted the boar in a violent way. More of a ritualistic thing not a normal mortal hunter.” Rio says before she blindly hands the paper to Agatha, who takes it.

“So, we put our hands on the board. You tell us what you want us to ask.” Lilia supplies, and you look shocked.

“I’m in,” Jen says strongly. Surprise was clear on Agatha’s face. Jen wasn’t the type to stick her neck out for anyone. It spoke volumes how much these witches already thought of you. And you really didn’t understand why. 

“I mean it wasn’t boring last time, so” Billy shrugs and sits next to Alice, who moves a pillow for his butt. 

“You don’t need to do this. Not for me-“ You start to feel panic rise in you. 

“Blessing and burdens, Kiddo. Besides, I’m starting to like you.” Lilia winks at you and moves a blanket to the floor, and sits next to you. 

“Move over,” Rio says, and you turn in horror.

“Rio, no! No one should be doing this but me!” You liked the coven, you didn’t want anything bad to happen to them. But Rio was a different story, she couldn’t get involved in this. Not just for her safety but it was meddling with magic she shouldn’t. As death there were rules. 

“Daddy’s got it,” Rio says, and you want to fight her on it. No one says anything about the nickname. Figuring Death was probably a little kinky and not wanting the visual. 

Rio steps forward, and Agatha grabs her arm. Her sharp nails biting into her wife's skin. 

“You promise me..you won’t be stupid? We can’t-” Agatha says, and Rio leans in and kisses her cheek. Agatha lets her, before Rio moves back over to the board. She sits to your right. 

Jen moves to sit next to Rio, and Agatha comes behind you. Grabbing your waist, she pulls you back. Keeping you in the circle but not next to the board.

“Agatha-“ You say about to move back into your spot. 

“Don’t fight us, you don’t put your hands on any of us. And you don’t touch the board. No matter what happens.” Rio says to you for both herself and Agatha. Aggie's hands go across your torso, and she holds tight. 

You know it’s so you won’t move.

“The message didn’t say you guys.” You try one last time.

“We’ve never really been a conventional coven anyway. Why would we follow the rules now?” Alice says, and she places her hand on the planchette.

Everyone follows, and you gulp.

“Remember, no taunting, no talking over each other, and keep your hands on the board.” Billy remembers from the Road. He says it with false confidence in the hopes he seems sure of what’s about to happen.  

“Who’s going to ask?” Jen says, but Rio starts speaking.

“Maiden, Mother, Crone- Spirits be known.” She recites, and Agatha is thrown back to the Road. The piece moves across the board slowly.

“Is there someone who wants to do harm to this coven? To my family?” Rio asks, her face cold and closed off. 

It moves to the corner at the ‘YES’

“Who are they?” Rio asks wanting names so she could have her pound of flesh. 

‘H-A-R-K-N-E-S-S’

It spells out, and you feel yourself growing colder. 

“That doesn’t make sense?” Billy says but he’s shushed by Lilia and Jen. 

“You cunt.” Rio says, and you feel Aggies hold squeeze you harder. Your legs feel like led. 

“Don’t patronize the spirits.” Lilia reminds your wife. But Rio shakes her head. 

“Evanora, you old cow, is that you again?” Rio speaks to your mother in law like she’s the actual embodiment of satan. 

‘YES,’ the piece moves to the word again.

“Who’s your puppet? Who delivered the note and cut the pig?” Rio snarled, and it moves quickly now. It’s stronger and the connection is more sure. 

‘F-A-M-I-L-I-A-R.  M-U-S-T.   D-I-E’

“Oh crap,” Jen says, and Alice shushes her. 

“Yeah, you aren’t being original after all these years. Now answer my question, you decrepit bag of worms.” Rio had not had the pleasure of meeting Agatha’s mother. But she knew you had, and you both still suffered from nightmares from the rotting corpse. That sad excuse for a mother was still causing problems in Rio’s home. 

“Rio, patronizing isn’t going to help.” Lilia said sternly, not wanting this to escalate. 

“Shut it divinations.” Agatha said, defending Rio. Only she was allowed to chastise her wife. She certainly wasn’t about to let another witch do it. Your hand went to her knee and squeezed. Communicating that she wasn’t helping either. 

“That seemed patronizing,” Billy whispered, and Alice rolled her eyes. The candles flickered, and your chin pointed to the windows. Sometimes when spirits entered a given space they fucked with it, and Evanora loved to mess with Agatha. You were definitely going to be her toy. Just like all those centuries ago, Evanora knew you were Agatha’s weakness. 

‘R-U-N. W-H-I-L-E. Y-O-U. C-A-N’ The dead witch taunted the coven. 

“Answer me!” Rio snarled, and Jen flinched at her scary face. 

Billy jumped too, and his fingers moved off of the planchette just enough. 

“Billy, stop, no!” Alice said, but it was too late. 

Your ankle was grabbed, and you felt nails digging into your muscle.. Blood starting to pool out of razor-sharp cuts. With a diabolic strength, you were starting to be dragged. 

The candles fell as the circle was broken and all hell broke lose. It didn’t matter that the house was warded, you’d all let her spirit into the given space.

And now that the circle was broken you all saw bits of white ghost’s whirling around the room like balloons full of helium being let loose. They all shriekd and moaned there were maybe thirty around the room.  

Agatha, to her credit did not let go of you for a second. The witch held on tight, but both of you were being moved quickly. Her legs unfolded, and she moved her feet on either side of you, dug into the carpet in the living room. But the whole carpet crinkled under the weight, it didn’t stop and  the coven and Ouija board moved too. The candles went out now, and darkness fell in the house. The only light was the dim fire in the fireplace. But it was enough to see you being drug across the house. The coven stood quickly, and people grabbed at you and Agatha to stop the tug of war. 

Rio was smarter; she took the Ouija board and threw it into the fireplace. It burned, and there was a high-pitched wine. 

The spirts flew into the fireplace at lightning speed. 

“Be gone ghosts,” Rio said and stood with her knife. 

Evanora did not leave with the rest of the ghouls. 

Lilia had your left arm and was holding on with all her might. Billy had his arms around Agatha’s middle to hold you both. His sneakers squeaked as you were dragged still. His butt moving with yours and Agatha’s. Jen had your right leg, and Alice had Agatha’s right leg. They were all pulling, trying to stop the invisible force that was trying to snatch you. 

Your left ankle had indents from a hand. 

Rio took her jagged, powerful dagger. She was chanting something in Greek now. She started to trace a circle around you and the coven. 

“What the fuck?” Billy said when he looked down and saw your ankle becoming even more bloody. You screamed as you felt your ankle dislocate. Evanora was trying to take the whole foot.  

“Bunny, stay with me, stay with me love, don’t close your eyes,” Agatha said, afraid you’d lose consciousness if the ankle was ripped off of you. You’d endured worse pain, you had a high pain tolerance. But this was pretty intense. 

You realized the irony now, Evanora wanted to take her daughter's lucky rabbit’s foot. You were to be an example for her wayward child. Your mother-in-law wanted to take Agatha’s prized possession. She didn’t go for Rio, she’d gone for Agatha’s Achilles heel, you .

“Aggie, don’t let go.” You whimpered lamely. 

“ Never .” She growled her hold on you tight and never wavered. “RIO GO FASTER!” She screamed at her wife. 

“No one’s letting go,” Lilia said to you, and she was compelled to kiss your hand to comfort you. Just as the thought was there, you screamed. 

Evanora was going about bending your foot now too. 

“Alice, do something!” Jen said in horror as your foot moved. Alice looked around, unsure of what she could do. Rio was writing into the hardwood and it started to sizzle. Giving Alice an idea. She released Agatha and went to the fire. She reached in and grabbed a half on fire log. She blew on it as it burned her fingers. But it started to just smoke, no longer red from the ambers. 

Alice came back over to you. 

“I’m so sorry for this. You don’t deserve this.” She said, but leaned down and burned your ankle. You had a moment of shock where you weren’t in your body. Smelling your flesh melt slow motion. 

“ STOP THAT !” Rio yelled at the witch as you screamed out in agony. 

At first, Evanora’s handprint went away. Alice moved the hot piece of wood off of your ankle. Thinking maybe it had worked.  

But then Evanora came back with a vengeance, and you were all the way on your back. Agatha was holding you around your chest now. She wasn’t going to let you slip further. 

“WHAT THE HELL!” Jen said to Alice, like that was not helpful. 

“SMUDGE THE ROOM!” Lilia yelled at the protection witch with the black piece of wood. Alice nodded and started to go to the windows. The charcoal-like piece was easy to write with. 

The room was warded but if she smudged it maybe it would get rid of the angry spirit. 

“Aggie- I’m I-” You were trying to pick your words before you fell unconscious. Wanting her to know how much you were sorry and how much you adored her. 

“Shh, don’t start that.” Agatha whispered into your ear. Pulling you closer to her chest. Evanora moved up to your calf, and it was like a knife was cutting into your muscle once more; blood started to run out. 

“STOP IT MOTHER! TAKE ME! Stop-Don’t do this! YOU WANT ME! Punish me!” Agatha begged but the evil spirit knew this was far more painful for her daughter. 

You cringed at your wife begging for pain. You’d rather it happen to you than her. 

Rio closed the circle and the runes around the coven. And it stopped, you sagged against your wife. Billy let go of Agatha slowly. Jen released you, and so did Lilia. You had tears running down your red-hot cheeks from the pain. 

“Help me. Rio help me, oh my-” Agatha looked at Rio and begged. Rio didn’t need to be asked, she was already over your leg. She licked the open wound on your ankle. 

“I’m- oh shit, It’s gonna hurt, my baby, this won’t feel pleasant,” Rio said looking in your eyes. Lilia had to look away, afraid to see your face in more pain. But Jen was shaking and unable to tare herself away from the scene. 

You nodded for her to continue and Agath’s face grew dark, the circles under her eyes were deep greys. Billy put a hand on her shoulder. He felt like he couldn’t not touch one of you; this was too sad. 

You closed your eyes, and Rio fixed your broken foot and ankle. It made wet popping noises as it snapped back into place. You all could hear the ligaments attach. The last thing Rio did was lick the burn mark Alice had made. 

When it was done, your head fell to the side. As you panted through the pain. 

“You are one tough witch, Doll,” Lilia said under her breath, but everyone heard it. She was amazed at you. 

“I didn’t do anything. I was powerless to stop it.” You answered full of shame, but Jen shook her head. Wanting to argue with you. 

Agatha couldn’t speak so she kissed your head over and over. Not caring that her coven was watching her affection towards you. She’d needed to tell you how sorry she was for inflicting such a curse as her mother on you. She’d wanted to tell you how strong you’d been. She wanted to kiss every inch of you to make sure as your Mommy there were no more scrapes, no boo-boo’s to find. 

Aggie was unable to let you go but Rio’s mind turned more sinister.

Death got up slowly and turned to Alice, who’d finished smudging the house. She took her knife once more and pointed it at the witch. 

“What the fuck did you think you were doing? You stupid child! You thought burning her would work? What your mommy never taught you about the witch trials? Did that work for the other witches?”

Jen, surprisingly, was the one who went over and stood between the two. Rio’s dagger was still menacingly pointed at the protection witch. 

“I thought-” She stammered. 

“She made a mistake, she was trying to help!” Jen shouted, and you winced at the noise. Agatha’s hand moved to pull your hair out of your face, she wiped the sweat off of your brow. Not letting you go, her arms wrapped around your middle and your weight completely on her. Your hearts returned to that of a witch and familiar, back on the same rhythm. While your wife, Death continued to berate the protection witch. 

“I should skin you, you fucking bitch. You burned my wife!” Rio snapped back, not caring that Jen spoke to her. She stepped forward, and Jen put her arms out to stop her. Alice stepped back, feeling guilty at hurting you. 

“There are times and places that would have worked, and you know it!” Jen said again, but Rio had put a hand over her face, and the skull mask appeared. 

You saw it and tried to get up, but Agatha wouldn’t let you. 

“We have to stop her.” You said, and Agatha was torn between not wanting to and not wanting you to get up and get involved. 

Rio stalked forward and Jen shrank from the sight of the mask. You grabbed Agatha’s hand and squeezed. 

“Rio, don’t .” Agatha’s voice was hard, and your wife stopped. Turning to look at the two of you on the floor. It took a moment of the three of you using your minds to communicate, but eventually Rio waved her hand on her face, and the mask was gone. 

Turning once more with the knife at Alice.

“You are one lucky witch. Not many can be that close to Death and take another breath. My sweet little witch just saved your life. The one you burned, yeah, she’s the reason you get to see dawn.” Rio moved the knife back into the holster at her ankle. 

Alice releases the breath she was holding.

Rio moved back to you and your healed leg. Her fingers traveled over the skin as she ground her fingers hard against your bones. She wanted to make sure the blood was flowing correctly and the bones were completely mended. Rio moved like a surgeon, before her hand found the bottom of your foot. She massaged the pad of your foot. Moving expertly to your heel and using pressure points to relieve the tension. To everyone else, she might look like she was checking you still, but you knew she’d used her power to ease all the hurt. And now she wanted to touch you, but needed an excuse to do it. Feeling like everyone was watching you three. 

Agatha kissed your temple and closed her eyes. 

The coven watched silently. 

“You let go.” Lilia said looking up at Billy. You cringed as another round of blame game started up. 

“It was an accident. I never meant to hurt her. I wouldn’t-”

Your wives didn’t comment keeping their hands on you. You felt that neither of them was forgiving him and it made you upset. 

“You even said the rules out loud Billy.” Jennifer said now pointing the blame at the boy. You took a ragged breath as you felt phantom pains up your leg. 

“You could have killed her.” Alice whispered and Billy had one tear roll down his cheek. 

“Stop it.” You finally say unable to take one more moment. 

“Thought you were all grown up and could play with witches. It’s time to really grow up Billy.” Lilia says colder than you thought she could be. You knew it came from fear. 

“Stop it.” You repeat and Lilia looks at you again. Her eyes hold so much pain, her curls are out of place. And she looks raw.

“We never should have let them in.” Agatha says to Rio who’s teeth are grinding together in anger. Billy looks like he is ready to beg for forgiveness. 

The coven grows quiet at her declaration and you take another steadying breath. 

“Everyone did the best they could in the moment. It’s no one’s fault but Evanora who has always been a bitch. Now I’m tired, and I can’t do this right now. So please don’t throw blame around the room. I forgive you, all of you.” You say looking at Billy, Alice and then Agatha. 

Who you knew wished she could kill her mother a second time. 

“We are so sorry.” Alice whispered to your family. Neither wife said another word, you knew they couldn’t yet. Forgiveness was not something they handed out often. And they despised cheap apologies. The word sorry was a sign of weakness ot them. 

Finally, when you couldn’t take the silence another moment. You tapped Aggies hand and the three of you stood up. Both of their hands helped pull you and you gently put weight on the healed leg. It felt like pins and needles, because it was still healed with magic. But you didn’t feel the same pain as before. 

“Nothing left to see here folks.” Agatha said feeling you growing tense from everyone staring at you. 

 “What now?” Jen asked looking at Agatha and then Lilia. 

“We have extra blankets?” You say weakly and your wives don’t like the idea of this coven staying under their roof. 

“I’m not sleeping on the floor,” Jen says, like the princess she can be.

“I’m staying. You three can go to the motel we passed.” Alice says and takes out her keys, handing them to Jen. Jen is a little taken back that Alice wants to stay in the house after what Rio just did. But it was clear that if Rio was going to kill her she would have done it by now. Instead her wives had called her off like a circus performer does a wild lion. 

 Lilia looks at you, feeling torn. She didn’t know if leaving you was a great idea. 

“I’m gonna stay too,” Billy says with more confidence than you thought he’d have. 

“You guys don’t have to stay. Rio doesn’t actually need sleep, she just likes it. She will keep watch.” You tell them. Rios' hand falls to your lower back. A confirmation to you and a statement to them that you were her responsibility. 

“I will be up. But you are all welcome to stay downstairs.” Rio says, and Agatha looks at Rio. Wondering what she’s up to. 

“Safety in numbers, Agatha.” Rio reminds the witch, who doesn’t say anything.

“If you guys could maybe not make sex noises, that would be great. It’s not that big of a house.” Alice's face scrunches, and you laugh for the first time since the Ouija nightmare.

“Oh god, yeah, please don’t.” Billy says, then looks at Alice, “You can take the couch.” 

“Nah, kid-” she feels, like the rest of the coven a paternal sense for him. 

“I haven’t been able to sleep on anything soft since the road.” He admits and the whole coven’s faces darken at his obvious pain. 

You move from Rio and Agatha’s safe embrace and hug him. His arms wind around you fast holding you close against his skinny body. 

“Hard pillows, they’ll help.” You whisper, and he smiles sadly. Before pulling back and giving him a warm look. 

“I think we may have burnt through the wood, so I’ll go cut some. So you guys will have enough for the night.” Rio says and you walk away from Billy to follow Rio. Agatha to your surprise doesn’t follow. She wants a word with her so called ‘coven.’

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