#not WATCHING but it'll still see every mistake

[shamera]

Internet went down this morning and I kinda luxuriated in that for a while before texting hubby to tell him I might be offline today as the internet was down, and he checked the network and told me to just restart the internet. I said fineeee in a little bit and it's back and suddenly I can feel the weight of stress again.

[andillneverbethesame]

Its nice to have a friend with james and ravenclaw!reader pls 🙏

love this! thank u for the request <3

it's nice to have a friend

❥ james potter x ravenclaw fem reader, remus lupin x sirius black

❥ summary; you and james swear you two are only friends. except you're not.

❥ warnings; none really.just not reread for gramatical mistakes

❥ a/n: this is very shorttt sorryy

my ts masterlist pt 1, pt 2

“alright, class," professor sinitra said at the end of the astronomy lesson. "that's the end for today. i'll see you all next week. and don't forget your essays about your birth planet!”

“finally,” you sighed in relief. “i am so exhausted.” you hated these friday astronomy lessons at midnight. but you were grateful you didn't need to be up early the next day.

“me too,” pandora yawned. she looked as if she was already half asleep. everyone seemed to be. except james potter, who was now making his way to you with an energetic smile on his face.

“hello, y/n," he grinned and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

“hello, jamie.”

“can i walk you to ravenclaw tower?” he asked you and you raised your eyebrow. “it's not safe for a pretty girl like you to walk around the castle at night.”

“i won't be alone,” you replied. “i got pando—” you turned around to your friend who was next to you just five seconds ago. however, she was nowhere to be seen then. “or no. . . well, then i guess you can walk me.”

on the way, you notice james walked unusually slow. he always walked so fast that you almost had to run to catch up with him but this evening, it seemed as if you were faster than him. as if he wanted to make this walk last as long as possible.

you smiled as you shook your head at the ridiculous thought. you and james were only friends. you've always been just that.

“do you wanna hang out tomorrow at hogsmeade?” james suddenly asked.

you glanced at him. “what about the boys?”

“well, sirius and remus are having a date and peter still feels sick. it would be just the two of us. we could go to honey dukes and get the strawberry chocolate you like so much. and then we could stop at madam puddifoot's and get some tea and cake,” he offered. it almost sounded like a date. you cursed yourself again for the thought.

“you hate madam puddifoot's,” you pointed out the flaw in his plan.

“but you like her jasmine tea,” james said. and i like you, he wanted to add. “come on, it's my treat.”

you rolled your eyes. “you don't need to pay me for hanging out with you, jamie. i'd love to spend time with you in hogsmeade. it'll be fun."

james waited at you in front of the ravenclaw tower at ten in the morning sharp, just like he promised.

despite the fact that it was not a date and just two friends hanging out, you spend quite some time getting ready, wanting it to be perfect.

pandora teased you from her spot on her bed as she watched you chosing between two outfits — dark blue sweatshirt with black skirt and black sweatshirt with white skirt (you chose the second option in the end). you could only roll your eyes and deny every single one of her accusations but you both knew very well what was the truth.

james was wearing his gryffindor sweatshirt and opted to pair it with black pants. his hair was a mess, as always, looking like he had just gotten out of the bed without even trying to style it. he complained about it often but you thought it suited him well.

“ready?" he asked with his hands in his pockets, a smile lighting up his face.

“ready.” you nodded.

“where do you wanna go first?” james questioned as you two entered the village. a lot of people were there every day, but especially today when almost five hundred of hogwarts students decided to spend the day there.

“i'd really love to get the tea at madam puddifoot's now,” you answered honestly. “i'm feeling rather cold and need to warm up,” you blew warm breath on your hands and rubbed them together, hoping for at least temporally feeling of warmth. but it was no use. you almost couldn't feel your fingers anymore.

“why didn't you take gloves with you?” james asked.

“i lost them,” you replied with a pout on your lips. james then took off his pair of black gloves from his hands and handed them to you. “i— but. . what about you?”

he waved it off. “don't worry. i'll be fine.”

“are you sure?”

he nodded and you could tell he really meant it.

you two ended up at three broomsticks for a late lunch. despite each of you eating a piece of cake, a chocolate bar and shared a packet of sour candies, you two found yourselves quite hungry after all the walking.

madam rosmerta greeted you as soon as you walked in (though she was mainly talking to james, who ordered two butterbeers and then winked at her) and you chose a table by the window.

“what would you like?” james asked. “it's on me.”

you gave him a look. “i am not completely broke, y'know? you paid enough for me today. let me pay for you once, too.”

“not happening,” was james's immediate response as he shook his head. “i am a gentleman.”

“i never said you weren't,” you laughed. “but you can't pay for me all the time. i'm not your girlfriend.”

that seemed to shut him up as he couldn't think of anything else to say. at that moment, rosmerta came to your table with butterbeers and asked what would you like to have for your meal.

“i'll have shephard's pie," you spoke.

“beef pasties for me. thank you, rosmerta,” james smiled.

“thank you for today, jamie,” you said once the woman walked away. “i really needed this. i've been so stressful with everything that's going on.”

the boy knew exactly what you were talking about. attacks on muggles and muggleborn wizards and witches have been more and more frequent this year. a lot of your friends were muggleborns, and so was your dad. you prayed every day, begging whoever was up there to not let anything happen to those you loved.

james nodded understandingly. he, too, was worried for the future of the wizarding world. and he knew that he will be joining the order of the phoenix as soon as he could, and he'd be fighting for the good side as hard as he could.

his hand reached across the table for yours, squeezing it lightly for some kind of comfort to give you. you smiled sadly at him and sweets his hand back.

“yeah, me too. i'm sure everything will be okay,” he tried to reassure you. but you both weren't so sure. you weren't going to ruin this moment, though.

“thank you. it's nice to have a friend like you,” you said and james nodded.

yeah, he thought. a friend.

from across the room, remus and sirius, although they were on their own date, were watching you two with an immense interest.

“remus, he touched her hand!” sirius whisper-yelled at his boyfriend and hit him lightly as if he was trying to catch his attention as if remus wasn't spying on you two either. “he touched her hand!”

“yes, sirius, i'm not blind!” remus replied.

“come on, kiss!” the dark-haired boy began to pray. “i'm tired of them tiptoeing around each other like that.”

remus raised an eyebrow as he looked at sirius. “you did the same with me.”

“shut up.”

a month later, it was valentine's day and you had no one to spend it with.

all of your friends were going on a date with their partners or potential partners, but you were in bed with book.in your hands and a cup of tea on your bedside table. no one was in your dorm, leaving you completely interrupted to get lost in the story.

that was until there was a knock on your door.

you groaned. the words on the pages seemed to be getting rather. . . interesting.

"who is it?"

"your favourite boy in the whole world." was the answer and you quickly sat up and fixed your appearance. you'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"come in!" the door opened, revealing james in a black suit and a big boquet of flowers in his hand. your mouth opened at his look. he looked really attractive, don't get me wrong, but you couldn't understand why was he dressed like that. "what's going on?"

"well, dear y/n, me and you are going on a date, that's what's going on."

"on a date?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. "as. . . friends?"

james shook his head. "no, not as friends. we're more than that." he didn't give you a time to say anything before he continued with, "get ready. i'll wait in the common room."

you blinked in confusion as you watched him close the door and then you squealed once you were sure he was far enough to not hear you.

[rotthepoet]

Theo likes to appear to be so nonchalant, so cool, so unbothered, as if he got everything under control. Like nothing can get under his skin but that's EXACTLY why it's so fun to tease him n test how much it'll take to watch his restraint snaps (which isn't much tbh) 😼🤞

Going in for a hug? We're just hugging him extra tightly, pressing our lower half against his lower region extra harder, n inhaling his scent and he KNOWS

Sitting on his lap? Well of course it just so happens that we're wearing one of his big sweater w nothing underneath and batting our lashes up at him 🌚 totally accidental and a silly innocent mistake on our part

Hours, days, weeks, I DONT CARE IM GOING TO TEASE THAT MAN AND WATCH HIS RESTRAINTS CRACK

Anyways, have a beautiful day pookie 💋

- 🎹

Queen. I wrote like half of this and then i accidentally deleted it all. Lets have a moment of silence 😔 … now that its passed THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME I LOVE YOU AND I’LL NEVER MAKE YOU WAIT THIS LONG AGAIN

The Quidditch team had a very, no, outrageously stupid idea. Each and every one of them would practice celibacy for the week of the upcoming championship game. Seven whole days without sex. This included your amazing, wonderful, slightly pretentious boyfriend Theodore.

This did not sit right with you.

In fact, it sat so not right with you that you couldn’t help but… sabotage this game.

At first it was small things, your touch lingering too long on his bicep or thigh. Shifting your hips a little too much when he spooned you. Licking stray cream from your fingers at dinner.

But that didnt seem to work, no, it seemed like Theodore Nott hadnt been affected at all!(and you don’t know this, but he is DYING inside trying to not fuck you then and there)

So on day three you amp it up a little. You caught him right after quidditch practice, sweat dripping down his nose, and eyes wide as you practically throw yourself at him. Normally you wouldn’t touch him before a shower, but fuck has 3 days without sex made you a mess. Plus. You had to win this game.

You throw your arms around his neck, and his eyes glance down just enough to see the lowcut top youre wearing as your tits press against his chest. He suppresses a groan as you jump into his arm, forcing him to grab the plush skin of your thighs to support you. You, being extra bold today, kissed the side of his neck, tasting his salty skin beneath your lips as you take a deep breath and shiver. Maybe you were horny, but he didnt smell nearly as bad as he usually did after practice. Thats the point he put you down, kissing your forehead. “Four more days, bella…” he mumbled against your skin, before he grabbed your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look up at his dead eyes. “Knock it off or it’s going to be longer.”

“You wouldn’t last.”

“Oh, no. I’ll still be cumming. You just won’t be.”

His smirk as he walked off sent shivers down your spine and to the heat pooling in your panties.

On day five, you’ve had enough. You walked around your room, wearing nothing but a black, lacy thong and Theodores quidditch jersey. His name was proudly printed on the back, and you wore it like a badge of honor. And really, it was just too cute to not show off.

One text to Theo, asking for help on your DADA homework, and he was at your door in moments.

His face went a stark white the moment he saw you, his body shaking slightly from the overwhelming urge to take you right there.

You kissed his cheek in greeting, pulling him to a chair at your desk and sitting right down in his lap as usual.

“What are you doing?” He asks, voice raw and cracking slightly as he forced his gaze away.

You only shift slightly, your ass pressed against his groin while he stifles a groan. “This is where I always sit. Everything okay, teddy?” You ask.

“Fuck this.”

And within a second, your cheek is being pressed against the wood of your desk as Theodore leans over you, rutting his clothed hips against your plush ass. You win the game, by the way, you win it for SEVERAL hours.

Theodore loses his shit when he learns that no one else participated in the game, and he could have been balls deep in his girl on day one.

[frownyalfred]

Going insane over livestock guardian dog imagery for Batman. He is submissive in the way that a dog killing wolves for its sheep is submissive. Do you understand???????

I see the vision, anon. He's got big "I'm just here letting my Robins do their thing watching from afar" but if you even think about messing with them, he's there in a flash and you don't have half your throat anymore (you'll live, it'll be awful).

I like to think of him as the cliche mafia boss who's in control of the room but doesn't appear to be. He's off in the corner not looking at anyone, but you can be damn sure he's got an eye on everyone in that room. The second he so much as twitches, the room goes still. He doesn't need to say a word.

He's submissive in the sense that he doesn't need to dominate every conversation or room he's in, but make no mistake -- he's in control of every single one. And his people, his sheep, that protection extends from his kids, to his kids' friends, and eventually to the Justice League itself. They're his.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

TERRITORIAL. | Pretty Baby

Who would've known that the big bad wolf isn't actually all that bad?

Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes

Length: uuuh long idk

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Strawberry milk is your favorite.

It's always been a comfort thing for you- just like certain snacks or fabrics make you feel comforted, strawberry milk gives you that little bit of extra braveness at night after work has ended to finally make your way back home into the safety of your apartment.

But tonight, it's a bit different. Tonight, there's a group of vamps outside, clearly trying to agitate the wolves who've been ruling the streets for a while now.

It's not actual gang-behavior. They're not actively fighting or anything, there's never any guns or other violence involved- at least not on the surface. Underground, you're sure this must be a different story- but on the streets, the wolves play the tune everyone else dances to- the vamps only occasionally trying to provoke something, which never actually happens.

But that doesn't mean it won't tonight. Maybe tonight's the night it'll escalate.

And on nights like this, you sometimes feel like moving into the big city was a big mistake too, because this seems so normal to everyone else around you.

Back home in your little town, there wasn't anything like this at night. People would go to bed at reasonable times, you'd know every neighbor by name and house number, and you never had to fear going home alone. But here, things are different. Here, things are a lot more dangerous, especially as nothing but a human with no connection to either group.

You kind of want to stay neutral- even if, deep down, you feel more drawn towards the wolves with their more laid back approach to life.

Outside the small convenience store, you throw away the empty bottle of strawberry milk, before you reluctantly make a few steps- looks from a few vampires immediately making you retreat however, pulling out your phone to appear occupied. You can hear them snickering amongst each other already, laughing and talking, making comments about you.

You can't do this, fuck that.

You look around a little, when you notice someone from the nearby wolves looking back at you- a young man, golden eyes a tell-tale sign of what he is, as he sits on his bike that's perched up on it's kickstand. He's watching you, but not in an intimidating way- he's more so calculating it seems like, scanning the situation before he looks towards a friend nearby, who nods, some others nodding as well as they move closer.

He's got his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beanie hiding the slightly faded blue-ish strands of hair. Everyone of the tiny group appears relaxed and non-threatening. But there's a certain confidence in them that intimidates you a little as they walk closer.

That is, until he smiles at you-

and his black tail behind him wags, swaying from side to side.

"Alright guys, can we make some space here for the lady to pass through?" He asks towards the group of Vamps, who laugh, before they reluctantly make space for you to walk. The young man carefully moves to walk a little behind you, the other's shielding you just as much on the side that's turned towards the blood-dependent human variants. It just confirms to you that yeah, you're definitely more drawn towards wolves.

"There we go. Is your home far?" The young wolf asks, still keeping a respectful distance towards you.

"Uh.. no, not really." You deny, and he nods. "Thanks, by the way." You bow to him and his friends politely, everyone just waving it off- though you can see all their tails swaying a little. It's honestly.. cute, if they didn't all look like they could probably break your neck at a moment's notice.

But they don't. Instead, they all agree to your request to walk home now by yourself, and let you go-

though you can feel one person's eyes on you for a little longer, and when you turn around, he smiles that smile again.

A smile that's just.. genuine.

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You meet him again the day after at the convenience store, though he's sporting a fresh scratch on the top of his cheekbone. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain as he spots you however, having just bought your typical strawberry courage to go home tonight. "Do you always work this long?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down next to him at the narrow table at the windows of the small store. He's been eating something, bowl now empty though, faint redness on his lips the last remnant of his meal.

"What happened?" You ask, pointing to your own cheek, when he seems surprised, touching his own before hissing at the sting. "No don't touch it-" You whine, before you look for something in your bag, opening another, smaller, makeup bag. "here- or... do you want me to help?" You wonder, making him nod and lean forward with a faint smile on his lips, hands holding onto the chair he's sitting on between his legs as he closes his eyes so you don't feel watched.

As you clean up the scratch and put a bandaid on, you kind of have to think about the fact that he seems awfully.. less threatening than you thought he'd be, considering he's a wolf from the big city. But maybe the one's you know from the smaller towns are just.. a little too full of themselves, pride getting the best of them.

"Oh-" You suddenly say, noticing the little cartoon fish on the bandaid you just placed on his cheek.

"What, 'oh'?" He wonders back, and you hold out another bandaid to him so he can take a look.

"I'm sorry, I didn't- I forgot I only have those…" You mumble a bit caught off guard by your own actions. But he just laughs, giving it back to you with a smile and shake of his head.

"It's fine- they're cute!" He simply shrugs, not bothered by it at all. "Thanks." He offers, tail swaying behind him. "So- can I ask what you work as?" He wonders, and you nod, putting your stuff back into your bag.

"Just data management. It's pretty boring." You shrug to yourself. "But I can work by myself and I like that." You explain, zipping your bag shut before you look at him again. "Although.. I might have to get myself maybe a dog, when I go home at night. A big, scary looking one you know? But they've got to be nice so I can bring them into the office with me.." You mumble, drinking the last of your milk as he turns his body to face more openly to you again, a playful smirk on his lips.

"How about I'll be your big bad dog then, huh?" He flirts, tail swinging side to side behind him. "Though I'm probably not allowed in the office.." He laughs, especially when you roll your eyes and still smile at his joking attempt at flirting. It was a joke.. right?

"Ha-ha." You say because of that, though he just widens his eyes, feigning innocence.

"Hey I'm serious!" He offers, leaning a bit closer. "I could take you home every night- and if I can't, someone of my pack could do the job instead."

"I- I'm probably not even gonna stay in the city for too long." You sigh, playing with the fluffy pom-pom ball attached to your bag. "I don't like it here very much.. it's too.. I don't know. I don't belong here.." You mumble.

"Maybe you've simply not seen the good parts of the city." He shrugs. "I could show you some."

"And by some you mean your bedroom?" You sigh, looking at him with a bit of an attitude- and he can't help but be intrigued by that little hint of spice you seem to have, underneath your pretty visuals and rather introverted appearance.

"If you'd like to visit, the door's always open for a pretty girl like you." he purrs, and at that, you clearly turn shy. "..And I don't ever open that door for anyone but myself, typically." He adds on, and at that, you look back at him, searching for the deeper meaning of that statement-

and you seem to find it, in the warmth of his eyes and the slight redness to his ears.

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"Have you ever been a backpack before?" Jungkook asks, as he waits outside of your apartment, one helmet on his bike and the other in his hand.

"Uh.. no-" you say, honestly never having heard the phrase.

"Would you like to try?" He asks, motioning towards his bike, holding out the helmet. "Got this one from a packmate. Should fit you." He says, black and grey tail wagging as you take it somewhat reluctantly. "And I'll drive extra careful too." He says, helping you put on the helmet properly before his hands adjust the strap under your chin.

"What if I fall off?" You worry, but he just laughs, putting on his own helmet. You notice that his hair seems freshly dyed- nor black.

"Not if you hold on to me." He explains, sitting on the bike after putting up the kickstand. "Hop on- I'll keep it stable." He reassures you, as you somewhat awkwardly climb onto the back of his bike. Only when his hands pull yours around his middle do you notice he's only really keeping you both and the bike stable with his feet alone.

And it makes you wonder how strong he might be.

"There we go. You'll figure things out as we go, trust me." He chuckles, small speakers in his head connected to his own too so you can talk properly. "Good to go?" Be asks, and you nod-

That is until his bike roars to life, and you instinctively cling onto him for dear life as he turns to drive off onto the main road.

He laughs. You're not sure what's so funny.

"Oh look at Jungkookies new passenger princess!" Someone jokes suddenly over the speaker, and you look around just to find three people on bikes as well at the same red light.

"Nervous?" Another voice asks, and Jungkook growls a little in front of you.

"You're making her nervous, hyung!" He complains, making the stranger's laugh. "Don't worry, they just want to mess with me.." he mumbles towards you, hand squeezing yours for a little in comfort.

"Yeah of course, after all Jungkook's finally all grown up!" The first voice laughs. "Finally up for an actual relationship now, fuckboy?" He asks, and at that, you grow a bit nervous.

Fuckboy? Relationship?

Just who is Jungkook really? You've got no idea. Sure, you've texted over the past few days, but you basically know nothing about him. He could just try and get into your pants, maybe that's his whole thing- maybe he likes them innocent and stupid to have a quick fuck and then drop them again. With looks like his that must be easy.

You're easy.

"Please don't listen to them, they're just assholes-" He tries to explain as the light finally turns green, but you're quiet, and Jungkook has a feeling that something's wrong. "You okay?" He asks occasionally, but you just nod and move on, not really up for talking anymore. He just wants to screw you anyways. Maybe he really is just a big city wolf down the line.

The scenery is nice, but you don't really feel like enjoying it too much as you just want to go home right away again. It's something you do- you hide from things, because confrontation just ends in you being at fault all the time. And maybe, this time, you are at fault.

You shouldn't just trust someone like that. You both barely know each other.

He parks at a gas station, turning off his bike in a more secluded parking area, before he takes off his helmet, and helps you take off yours too.

"What's wrong?" He asks, hair a bit wild, but eyes serious as they look at you, reflecting the light from the neon signs a little like mirrors.

"Nothing." You shrug, avoiding eye contact.

"He was just messing with me. They're always like that-" he tries to explain, and as you sigh, he knows that that's exactly what must've set you off. "Listen, I won't stand here and tell you I'm a church-going virgin because I'm not. Yeah, I fucked around, because sex is fun to me." He shrugs, and you're caught off guard at how boldly he says that. "But that doesn't mean I can't take things seriously." He offers, finally catching your gaze again. "And I want to take.. you seriously." He offers you, but you're not sure.

"...why?" You wonder. "Cause I'm pretty and innocent?" You jab at him. "Cause I'm the small town girl you can corrupt and then drop after you finally got into my pants?" You accuse. "Sucks to be you, I'm not a virgin anymore. I've had sex already, and for me it's not fun." You deny, crossing your arms almost defensively, though you quickly move your hands back on the bike as it moves slightly the moment he sits on it again, facing you however.

"I don't care about that." He tells you. "I won't lie that the corruption part isn't something appealing to me-" he chuckles, as he tests the waters, hands on your thighs not moving, just resting on the tops of them. "-But I'm not dropping you, if you ever let me have you." He purrs.

"What if I'm not ever letting you have me?" You respond, trying to act tough so he won't think you're easy.

"Then that's your choice." He nods.

"So if I say no right now, you'll leave me alone?" You ask.

"Depends on what you say no to." He shrugs leaning back a little, your legs feeling cold without his hands on them. "No to sex? Alright, we won't fuck then." He explains. "No to being with me? Cool, we'll just stay friends then." He goes on.

"No to me entirely?" He offers, eyes unreadable. "I'll accept that, and back off."

"That easy?" You ask a little caught off guard, and he nods. "So you're.. huh." You mumble to yourself, defeated. So he's not even up to put any effort in you. That's slightly disappointing, and honestly makes you feel a little ashamed even.

"So what is it?" He asks, and you shrug.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

"Then how about I'll work for it?" He smirks, and you look at him now. "Let me take you out. Let's go on dates, I can take you to pack meet-up's so you can get to know those assholes better, hell, I'll even have you meet my mom if you want!" He excitedly proposes to you, tail wagging, hitting his bike occasionally. "Just- you seem really cool. Exactly what I've been searching for." He explains a bit softer now. "Let's try.. okay?" He asks.

"... okay." You answer, and at that his lips turn, part in a happy grin, before he gets up from the bike and punches the air once in his excitement before he returns.

"Okay!" He giggles to himself, helping you back into your helmet. "I know an awesome place to get some food-" he instantly rambles, kicking up the stand for his bike again before he drives off with you-

Eager to show you that he's the one for you.

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

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Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

[mellowwillowy]

𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

Your lover is forced to work far away from you and they are just not having it! They should be breathing the same air as you and not be put far away! Alas, they don't have a choice but to finish this errand quick.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 is not having it. Being away from you for a long time for this silly field trip wannabe? Why must his loyal, mafia ass-shit client get himself into another trouble that requires him to work on-site, away from the house, away from you?

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will actually make a manual on handling every possibility that he could think of happening to you and hand it to his men and the maids working. What to do if Spouse doesn't want to eat? What to do if Spouse is suddenly sick? What to do if Spouse is throwing tantrum-

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 bets that anyone who upset Spouse while he was away will have their fingers removed, the number of fingers removed depends on how fatal their mistake was although he was positive that his and this annoying Mafia Ringleader's men are trained enough to prevent that from happening.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will get you some gifts, lots of gifts. Really, he's a simple man. Oh and if by chance you two manage to have children, they only get 1/10 what he gets for you. Cry about it, brats.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will turn all explosive toward anyone who slows down his work, your average angry demanding boss except that he doesn't explode with illogical bullshits. Might accidentally smack Kaspar (the client) once right in his face out of fuming anger.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 who will be all clingy (rare, very rare) once he gets home because dude. He was away for some time, looking at all these mf faces that were not even you. Give him lots of cuddles, and kisses and just treat him like a puppy for today because he will return to normal again the next day, IT'S YOUR ONLY CHANCE.

"Woah, you get a lot for me, dear. How about I share some with the kids?" (If you have it) "Sure, but I doubt they can use any of it." Yulian replies nonchalantly as he watches you unwrap everything. He is a menace for purposely picking up stuff the kids won't be able to use (haha!).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 gets all grumpy for it! Do they think it's fun having to trick you into allowing him to go on this shitty field trip? Ohhh come on now, you know he works as some sort of programmer or hacker, one that definitely doesn't need him to work ON SITE!!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will have to force both of your friends (and his) to take care of you. As much as you all are close to each other, he is not a fan of letting them watch you in his stead. Sure, this close friend of yours is used to taking care of you, you once lived with him after all.

But the jealousy factor of not being able to manage everything is still there! And his childhood friend, she might have a bad influence on you for the month he is away! Sure, your friend will not allow that but he's just skeptical of everyone! He doesn't trust anyone but him holding the leash to your coll- ekhem, watching you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will get all explosive, irrationally too. Not only toward people who slow his work down but to all his men. Trust me, it was hell for everyone. One wrong word and a punch will meet their face~

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will actually spare some time to get gifts for you and the others, of course, they only get a portion of what he gets for you. Will smile for once after a while at the thought of you unwrapping the presents eagerly and scare his men for a moment (Is boss finally losing it?)

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will try his best to come home unscratched. Work is tough, yes but seeing you chiding him in worry is tougher! The more bruised up he is, the harder it'll be for him to slip out like an eel next time!

"Are you seriously only giving us these after all the troubles we have, taking care of your little friend?!" "God, look at what he got for you, let's swap." "Nuh-uh, get lost, Lemon." Blue cackles at the sight of you beaming from the gifts he hand-picked for you. Ah right, the gifts for the others are picked by his men since he can't be bothered about it.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐇𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 is not a shady asshole like 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 so no field trip.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is rather indifferent about this. What can he do about this? Pass it and have people shoot him daggers from every angle for being irrational? Oh lol no, mon chèri. He values his life as much as he values yours.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will station all his men to keep you safe and give everyone notice of 'whoever fucks up will have their head hung'. Effective enough to ensure the maids from doing anything dumb to you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is not as wary as Yulian but he is also not a lenient one as well. You get what the others get. Fuck around while he's away and find out what he has in store for you. Definitely not a pleasant one.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will surprisingly get something for you though just one. Quality over quantity, he'll quote. He was just too busy and unbothered to get something for you out of no occasion going on. Besides, he could just get you some when he is more relaxed and not so on guard like this. Wouldn't want to get all bruised up or even dead just because he is in a hunt for presents!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is as normal as usual. No explosive behavior, this is his 'daily' work. He's used to being away from you and he is used to being absent from your presence. (Bro literally wait for you to awaken from your coma).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will smile at the sight of you unwrapping the said gift. He is content enough to see you awake and reacting to his gift, either with a scowl or a smile, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you are awake to see what he has bought for you.

"You know, I've always wished you could at least wake up and see the mountain of gifts I had prepared for you. But then I realized, no mountain of surprises would ever wake you up so I dusted it all down as a log of firewood." "You are just making up that story so that I will feel romantic about being given just a TRINKET?" 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 looks away from you comically while you shake him hard. That said, he means every word of it. (Angst baby)

Note: I am rolling, why is everyone here so petty? Yulian to his (if he has) kids, Blue to Lemon and Grape while Eleanor just 👨🏻‍🦯

[mx-pastelwriting]

Linger

Silco x GN! Reader x Vander

Summary: Being Silco and Vander shared favorite for years without every knowing, but somethings have to come to an end.

Warnings: Short Smut, Threesome, Gentle Sex (Vander), Rough Sex (Silco), Kissing, Blowjob, Double Penetration, Forehead Kisses

Minors do not interact!

It was no secret to those around you that staying in the undercity forever wasn't in your future, or so you thought. Having met the two leaders long ago, forming a relationship with both, without their knowledge for years.

Only getting caught by plans overlapped; they came together, a rare sight itself. Confronting you yet reminding them never were you official, after all, that an agreement was made. Having what you called "meetings" with each of the men off and on, a trade, so to speak.

Happening for so long that you finally decided today was the day. Leaving the undercity was a big task, though you'd been planning for months. Already paying for a place and a new place to work starting a day after you settled in, all there was to do was enjoy your last day.

Walking through the streets for the last time, taking time to walk over to the last drop, entering the place taking in the smell while walking up the wooden steps.

Entering the cold office, meeting Silco's eyes first watching as he relaxed in his chair, running a hand over his hair as you striped.

Sitting atop the desk just in time for Vander to arrive, greeting you warmly before Silco started. Standing up, moving between your legs before attacking your lips, quickly pulling you off the desk and onto your knees.

Back into his chair, turning to allow space for Vander to take you from behind, knowing the drill, unbuttoning Silco's pants as Vander knelt, caressing your skin.

Pulling out his hardening cock, stroking it a few times before taking it in your mouth, making his pleasure known, moans echoing through the office. Hearing over them, Vander undoes his belt, taking out his cock, and rubs it against you.

Moaning on Silco's cock, making the man go crazy, holding a hand over your head, pushing down hard. Gagging only furthered his rough behavior, a stark contrast to Vander slowly entering you before thrusting with gentle hands holding your hips. Filled up in both ends, enjoying every moment with your boys, trying to forget it would be the last.

Feeling as Vander moved faster, fueling your moans, pushing Silco closer to cumming, using a free hand to play with the man's balls, sending him moreover.

All of it ended with Silco resting still in the office as you and Vander spooned on the couch. Carefully moving away, looking around for your clothes on the floor.

Glancing back to the couch, seeing Vander awake, struggling to come up with an excuse, he speaks, "Go, I'll make sure he doesn't know." He whispers, though still wanting to explain. He nods, knowing what you are doing.

Walking over, quietly planting a kiss on his forehead before getting dressed, finishing up, you go over to Silco, giving him the same goodbye. Opening the door looking back at a smiling Vander and sleeping Silco, knowing it'll hurt to miss them, but missing this opportunity would hurt more.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @sophieissleepy @birbita

[pretty-circa006]

Unhealthy Attachments pt.1

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader

summary Negan, your gym coach, takes pity on you after seeing the way your peers treat you. tags mentions of bullying/ mild bullying, second person pov (sorry lol this is old pls forgive me) note this is an old WIP that i'm choosing to post because i haven't had time to write anything new (I WILL EVENTUALLY, I PROMISE, BUT COLLEGE IS DRAINING MY FREE TIME). this is part one of a multi-part series, maybe it'll even evolve into a longfic, who knows. btw you guys will have to pry coach negan x student reader fics from my cold dead hands bc i loooove writing these.

wc 1.3k

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

You stood lined up with the other students in your PE class, waiting to be chosen by the team captains for this class' soccer game. It didn't even phase you how every other student was picked before you, leaving you the last one standing until one unlucky captain had to pick you. That's just how things went, you were always the odd one out. Even now, everyone wore the usual school issued PE uniform of a t-shirt and shorts, while you had on the sweater and sweatpants version- in ninety degree weather. You were just honoring your father's, the town's local pastor, principles of modesty. Being the pastor's daughter felt isolating. Nobody invited you to things or wanted to be friends with you for fear that the indecencies of their typical teenage behavior would get back to their parents by way of the pastor; and of course he'd get that information from none other than you, his daughter. You never would, though. In middle school, you learned the hard way to not be such a narc, but by then it was too late and nobody trusted you or even wanted to be near you. 

 "Over here!" you shouted to your teammates, wanting them to pass you the ball. You had a perfect shot to the other team's goal. Like always, they ignored you, but it didn't matter because they scored anyway. You didn't give up on trying to be a team player, though. The gym coach, Negan, was watching the game closely and you wanted him to see that you cared and tried to put effort into his class. Maybe it was because he was the only person who ever paid you any attention, but the fear of letting the handsome man down weighed heavily on you. 

"Guys, I'm open!" you yelled. Your desperation to be a part of things was becoming so pathetic that Negan had to direct his focus elsewhere. Maybe it was by mistake, but the ball came rolling your way. Hope blossomed within you. It sounded silly, but you hoped that even something as little as you scoring a goal would make your class like you again. You kicked the ball, sending it flying to the opposing team's goal. It would have made it in if someone didn't intercept- someone from your own team, you notice- and kick it directly at you. You didn't have time to dodge it because it had already smacked you square in the face, knocking you over. You clutched your nose as you writhed on the floor in pain, salt being rubbed even further into your wound by the snickers of your classmates. 

 Negan blew his whistle and called a foul. He profanely scolded the students about their bad sportsmanship and lectured  them on treating their teammates fairly. He helped you up off the floor and led you to his office with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You sat in one of the chairs with your nose plugged up with tissues per Negan's orders after it started bleeding. It didn't seem broken, so he didn't deem your injury bad enough to send you to the nurse. 

"You can go back now," he told you once fresh blood stopped flowing from your nose between tissue changes. 

"Do I have to?" you asked with teary eyes. You were tired of all the bullying and just ready to graduate already. Your senior year was almost over and you were legally an adult, so why did you still have to put up with everyone else's childish behavior.

"You're all healed up. Don't see why you needa be in here any longer." It was obvious that he wanted you out of his office, probably feeling the same way your classmates felt about you. It shouldn't have surprised you, yet it stabbed you in the heart.  Your chin and lips quivered as you blinked back the tears burning in your eyes. 

"C-can I just stay in here?" you cringed at the way your voice cracked. He rolled his eyes and sighed. 

"Just because your sucky ass team is losing doesn't mean you can hide out here and skip class." 

"That's not why!" you pleaded. 

"Then why?" he asked. 

"Everybody hates me!" You couldn't keep it together after finally saying it out loud. You sobbed like a baby, tears streaming down your face and snot dripping from your nose. You were ugly crying but you didn't even care, it wasn't like you had anyone else's respect to lose. Negan got up and closed the door in an attempt to save you some dignity. Your breathing became short and rapid as your bawling made it difficult to take in oxygen. 

"Teenagers are so goddamn hormonal and dramatic. Nobody hates you, kid," he said disinterested. 

"E-even you d-d-do!" you choked out before going back to wailing. He felt bad for you. He saw the way others treated you and it made him feel worse seeing you long for the acceptance of people who rejected you and took pleasure in your pain. But that's high school for you.

"What makes you think I hate you?" he asked, genuinely curious. He didn't hate you, not even close. He just couldn't stand seeing you walking around like a kicked puppy-dog, it was pitiful. You tried to explain your reasoning, but everything that came out of your mouth was an incoherent blubbering, stuttering, and hyperventilating. He pulled you up from the chair and cradled you in his chest, just letting you sob into his sweater. He hushed you and rubbed your back in soothing circles. It was the best he could do, he knew his words sure as hell couldn't offer the comfort he wanted to give you. Your sobbing eventually calmed into small hiccups and occasional sniffles. 

"Why does everyone hate me?" you whispered. He wanted to tell you that they didn't and that's just how high schoolers are, but he didn't want to lie to you. 

"You're almost outta this goddamn shit hole, kid. Jus' keep your head held up high and finish the year off strong." He clapped a strong hand on your shoulder for added reassurance. You gave him a small smile before trudging out of his classroom and to the locker room now that the class was over.

...  

 Negan comforting you in his office that day made you feel like he was a safe space. He seemed to be the only person who cared, or bothered to do anything about how others treated you, even if it was just the bare minimum, you felt it was better than nothing. 

"Coach," you muttered shyly, standing outside his open office door in the gym. He glanced up at you from whatever work he was doing and immediately sighed. It was a miracle to him that you were oblivious as to why people bullied you. Here you were, dressed so matronly in a long floral skirt that resembled an old woman’s wallpaper and an awful knitted sweater. He knew you were a pastor’s daughter, but did you really need to dress the part. 

“What do you need, kid?” He asked, focusing on his work again. “Can I eat lunch in here?” 

“Why? The bathroom crowded or somethin’?” He joked. When you nodded your head yes, he immediately felt guilty. He motioned with his hand for you to sit in one of the chairs before his desk. You happily took a seat before offering him half of your sandwich. 

“It’s turkey,” you said when he looked at you strangely. He accepted the half and ate it while he worked and you sat in silence enjoying the change of scenery. 

“You don’t actually eat lunch in the bathroom, do you?” He asked. 

“There’s nowhere else for me to sit,” you admitted shamefully. 

“That is  fuckin’ disgusting!” You shrugged your shoulders and went back to your sandwich, embarrassed to let Negan see how pathetic your life really was. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

“Look, if you have nowhere else to sit, you can eat lunch in here.” You visibly perked up, a your face splitting into a joyous smile. 

“Really?” 

“Don’t make me fuckin’ regret it.”

next part ▶︎

[glaciertea]

Tickets for Two

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader two-shot

Part 1

Here is part 2, happy birthday to the giant spider!

Also, thank you @slushycoookie for being my beta reader for this part. You are truly the alpha cookie.

Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.

Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.

The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.

CW: 18+, Oral (both receiving and giving), light teasing, semi public sex (it'll just be you two, so I guess it'll be semi), you both are perverts... just slightly

Word count: 2.7k

“It always feels weird not to be the one behind there.” You eyed the menu, debating if you should have a small or medium popcorn.

“It's nice seeing you here and not working.” Miguel shoved his hands in his pocket, already knowing what to get himself. “Figure out what size you want?”

“Yeah, I'll get a small. And are you saying that because you get to be handsy and not solicit around my area?”

“Maybe.” Miguel grunted and moved closer to the counter to place his order.

“I'm still surprised they haven't banned you yet.” You greeted your coworker and asked for a drink alongside your buttery treat. 

“I merely want to be near my partner. I don't see anything wrong with that. Besides, I'm not spooking any other patrons, so there's no problem.”

“Then what about the guy who—”

“That time doesn't count. That idiot shouldn't have been raising hell for getting mad when you accidentally tapped the wrong size. You caught your mistake and apologized, and yet he still had the nerve to be a shocking idiot at that point.”

“Miggy, you forcefully threw him out. The employees and customers swore you were security after that, especially with how much you hung around the counter beforehand.” You nudged his arm before reaching for your card.

“And?” He stared at the transaction, concluding he was going to pay you back.

“At this point, I believe you are the only one who supports the concession stand after dark.” You hauled nearly all of the items in your arms, trying not to tip over.

“Si mantiene alejados a los imbéciles, que así sea.” He mumbled and balanced you out by taking some of the snacks. “Now come on, let's go watch this film.”

“Movie date, commence!” You skipped ahead, making Miguel smirk.

You tended to stray away from movie dates, especially considering your employment in the building, but you decided to join Miguel for this night. You might even enjoy the thrill and peace of experiencing a vacant showroom. To be the consumer indeed of the provider.

You made your way to your chosen seats, near the back, and got comfy. The lights dimmed, and you glued your eyes to the screen. It showed two new movies coming out, but didn't capture your attention. Then the trailer for the next future showing was coming to an end when you noticed nobody else was heading in. 

A whole theater between you two. An accidental private screening, one could call it.

“Is this how it is when you come in here?”

Miguel plopped a gummy in his mouth and shrugged. “About. It is nice to have a theater to myself. It gives me time to think.”

“What do you usually think about when you're here?”

“Work.” He stole a sip of your drink. “And you occasionally.”

You didn't get the chance to react when the lights dimmed and the feature film started up. He didn't turn to you; his eyes focused on the screen, so you decided to munch on your popcorn and get comfortable.

And you did get comfortable because the movie they chose to show was mind-numbingly boring. You didn't know what was going on or if anything was going on. By the thirty-five minute mark, you had devoured most of your popcorn, and your drink was heavily watered down. You felt yourself dozing off; the room became darker than before when Miguel nudged you awake. 

“You okay?”

“I'm up!” You twisted your head up to him. “Is this movie over?”

“Close. We got,” he checked his watch. “Approximately an hour and forty-five minutes left. Excluding credits.”

You groaned out and banged your head on the back of the chair. You thought of the many possible options. You could suck it up and finish the mind-numbing film, or you could get up and leave, draining the funds you spent. Your brain circled and circled when an idea struck. 

“We can do a certain indecency when a couple is in an empty theater roo-”

“Front cameras.” He subtly gestured to where they could be placed.

“Shock. That's right.” You slumped more of your drink down. So much for a fun night. 

Miguel drummed his finger on the armrest before standing up. “I'll be back in five.” 

“Going to the restrooms?”

“Something along those lines.”

You watched him stand up and crack his neck to the left and right. He didn't say much as he strode down the steps and disappeared behind the barrier separating the seats from the theater room's door. Your eyes lazily went towards the screen. More nonsense about the car robots and exposition; you could've sworn that the film was going to be about medieval times. Or was it going to be about a war? You decided it was best not to question the direction of the movie.

Stealing some of his lukewarm coffee to give you somewhat of an energy boost, Miguel finally returned from wherever. He parked himself right back in his seat and turned to you.

There was a hint of confidence in his eyes. Uncertain by the new attitude, you cocked your head, intrigued by what he did out there.

“Miguel? Where did you go?”

Not missing a beat, he pulled the armrest up and placed you on his lap. Something was poking you and nudging the backside of your thigh. Masquerading an ignorant state, your fingers casually brushed along the outline, fascinated by the peculiar object. 

Miguel grunted at the attentive focus, shifting in his seat and rubbing against the fabric of your pants. He was glad the bottoms he was wearing were slightly thinner.

“I don't think the movie is causing you to react this way; is it now?” A cheeky grin crept on your lips as you sneakily grinded.

“I'm taking your idea into consideration.” He grunted and squirmed, relieving any pressure that roused up.

You turned your torso and peered down to undo his belt buckle. “The cameras?”

“Right now, they're seeing two people watching the film, bored out of their minds.” His gaze was not leaving your fingers.

“But wouldn't they realize it's a still image?” You stopped unbuttoning his pants. “Miguel, did you hack my job's security cams?”

“Hack is a strong word, cariño.”

You gave him a look and crossed your arms. “Did you hack?”

“I'm able to recreate realistic simulations. I know how to fake a moviegoer experience.” He took your hands and kissed them, knowing your disapproving glare wasn't going to leave. “So yes, I did hack your job's cameras. Más o menos. But only for this area.”

“Miguel, make sure you fix them back.”

“I will. Lo prometo.”

“You better, or else.”

“Or else what, amor?” He was prepared to accept what you were going to throw.

“Or else, I'll be forced to teach you a lesson.” You palmed the hardened erection, massaging it and enjoying the damp stains leaking through.

A low rumble expelled from his chest as pricking goosebumps and the flaming ignition coasted within you. Your eyes locked with his mesmeric ones, passion lighting up the darkness of the room. You took each other in, admiring one another's features more than the feature on the big screen. The only good thing about it was you were able to pick out his sharpness and gorgeousness.

You wrapped an arm around his neck and closed the gap, tasting the snacks on his lips. The buttery popcorn, the sugary fruit from the gummies, and the bitterness from the coffee create a delicious concoction melting onto your tongue as you twist it around his, needing to taste it all.

Soft moans trickle from you two when a husky one leaves Miguel. You don't pull away, playing coy. The raw guttural sounds become more like a beautiful song you will never get tired of hearing. You squeeze and knead the bulge, getting the reactions that make you giddy. His hands glide down your backside, pinching your behind or your inner and outer thighs.

“I don't think we should waste any time. Don't know when an unexpected viewer will show up.” You cheese and nip at his cheek.

Moving off his lap, you slip back over to your seat, cozying yourself on your knees. You pushed the searing need between your thighs in the back of your head; right now, you want all your concentration on Miguel. 

Helping him get out of those uncomfortable bottoms, you licked your lips at the pulsating tent before freeing him completely.

“This is way more interesting.” You thumbed at his glossy tip, loving how he looked when he threw his head back, biting his bottom lip.

Enthralling, a gorgeous frame that any camera can pick up on. It would only enhance his beauty further. He is certainly better than any film. 

Done with keeping him anticipating your full touch, you scoot closer, grasping the sensitive shaft, pumping in a slow motion, letting his self-lubrication mess up your hand. You sucked at his neck, wanting to leave a fresh mark. It got a few grunts out of him, but you needed more. 

Leading up to his ear, you glazed your tongue over the outer shell and carefully nipped at it. 

“I thought we couldn't—joder—I thought we couldn't waste any time, cariño? Joder, qué bueno.” There was some smugness in his tone. He was trying to save face when you pushed his cock towards his stomach.

“You know what? You are so right. The movie can end at any moment, so I really shouldn't waste any time.” You threw the smugness back with a hint of sarcasm. “Here, let me speed this along for real now.”

“Ah, no, it's fine; you can take your time. I was only—oh mierda, cariño, joder, espera, más despacio!”

You dipped down and immediately engulfed half of him. Your mouth built up enough spit to help make this easier. You always struggled to fit him all the way in. A blessing and curse with what he was endowed with. Dribbles of spit fall onto his trimmed hairs, your muffled moans giving vibrations, making him almost lose a fit.

He pushes your head down, biting his on his bottom lip until he tastes a bit of metallic. Your tongue made delicious laps, noisily slobbering, thankful that the film was drowning it out.

He was holding back, the croaks and the whines in his chest fully prominent when you cupped his balls, fondling them with the utmost care. You curl your tongue, going down more until you could feel him touch the back of your throat. He was a mess at your attempts. You would come up to go back down, and when it wasn't enough for you, you would start the process over from the head until you got it.

“Amor, I'm not going to last if you keep that up.”

A disgruntled, muddled hum resonated at the back of your throat. You were now very determined to take him all. Securing your hands on his thighs, you opened your throat, relaxing your body. You stretched your tongue, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You were almost there, so tantalizingly close, when a hoarse low shout of your name was called out, and your face was suddenly closer to Miguel's pelvis.

He erupted in your mouth, the salty strands cascading, hitting your throat, and running along the sides of your chin. He kept you there when nothing left to give and hauled you up.

“Shock, Miguel.” You gasped out. “I will perfect—” you swallowed any lingering residue and took a long breath. “I will perfect me taking all of you. That was a lot, are you okay? That was intense.”

When you didn't get a response, you started to worry when you were met with bright blood-red eyes piercing yours. You shuddered. Miguel can be intimidating, but it brings that awakening out of you.

“Miggy?”

“You always know how to make my head explode, cariño.”

He stood up and fixed himself. You could only watch, dazed at what he was doing when he kneeled before you. You gulped as he fingered the button on your pants. 

“But this movie date is supposed to be an enjoyable time for both.” He starts to pull your jeans down along with your underwear. “Así que te voy a dar algo bueno que ver.” He murmured along your thigh, pressing a soft kiss to it. That fiery flicker burning into you.

You gulped and tugged at the collar of your shirt. “He-hey, about what I said about wasting time, you know I was teasing—oh, shock!”

Miguel wasted no time diving right in, letting you feel the high satisfaction and pleasure you bring—and brought—to him. 

You struggled to choke back your moans, covering your hands to the point your fingers were squashing your cheeks. His tongue twirls achingly slow, teasing you simply because he can. Because he's acutely aware that you can't get too loud to draw anyone to you both. That annoying, sexy, mischievous glint in his eyes, saying, ‘You wouldn't want us to get caught now, now do you?’ 

God, he is such a smug bastard, and you can't stand that you love it. 

He massaged the tension from hips and thighs, not caring about the crick in his neck or the slightly sticky floor; his only goal was to make sure not to miss a single part of your heat.

Every stroke and every round he made was bliss that was driving you mad. His fingertips glided against your thighs, stroking the soft skin and pinching the inner part to make you squeak. He refused to break any contact with you, the suction so heavy that you swore your soul was going to ascend right out of the theater.

“Miguel.” You purred out, combing his luscious hair, relishing the glorious moment. 

He was ready for you to come apart.

His tongue dragged down in an unpredictable pattern, making your hips buck. He let a breathy “humph” out and grasped your waist, a heed to get you to stop moving.

Your head spun, and your body quivered. You were close, so very close.

He must have known as he sped up, his tongue making moves you didn't think he even possessed, his mouth slurping you whole. The room was fuzzy; your brain could have been a pile of goop by the end of this, and you wouldn't even be mildly upset, not even the slightest.

“Miggy, I- I'm-”

A silent cry parted between your lips, pushing Miguel's head down as your release shook you whole. Your mess was stained on his lopsided grin, and that was enough to make you want him again. 

You felt hot and cold, the sweat clinging to your forehead greatly helped you cool off, but you weren't quite calm. He cleaned himself off, double-checking to see if you had any questionable fluids on your clothes or your face. The film was still going, and you couldn't tell if it was the middle or third act. 

“Did it make it to the climax?” You heaved out. 

“I think we both just saw that.” Miguel smirked. 

You squeezed your lips together and released a waft from your nose. “Do you want to continue this at my place?”

“The film?”

“No. This movie isn't good. We could do better. Hell, I believe we can make a better one.” Your eyes drifted to his, and you could already see the hunger growing back.

He took hold of your hand and stood you up. It startled you, but you shook it off and trailed behind when it clocked on you. 

“What about the cameras?” You stammered.

“It'll revert itself back when we step out of this room. I put a sensor that'll detect when we leave.”

You trusted his word but resisted asking him how he had messed with the security later on. Right now, you were both overcome with anticipation when you rushed out of the doors, thankful for how devoid the building was. 

Even if the movie didn't satisfy you, it might have become your new favorite. If mindless films like that bring you that sort of experience, then you will gladly watch them with him.

[ravenstargames]

✦ LOST IN LIMBO — 2024 WRAP-UP + 2025 MILESTONES

And here we are, after the holidays! Another year has come to an end and this one was simply incredible. You can anticipate what our most important milestone was for 2024, but there has been a lot going on this past year that maybe we all have forgotten. So let's see what these four friends have accomplished this year, and what's coming for a 2025 that already looks promising!

Good news is that we achieved every goal we set up for this year! Isn't that awesome?! We published our first demo, hosted our very first casting call (and it was nuts!) and so much more! Let's see it :3

✦ OUR STUDIO, RAVENSTAR GAMES, WAS OFFICIALLY FOUNDED ON JULY!

Let me tell y'all that when you finish college, keep studying because it turns out the job market is absolutely devastated and cannibalized, and then have an existential crisis, the last thing you think about is saying "fuck it we ball" and open a studio. I mean, we are literally four people with no stable jobs (well, Kayden is an exception) and with no previous experience making a game entirely by ourselves.

So this was a huge step for us. A scary one. A terrifying one, and still is. But we've survived so far, so let's hope we can still do just that—survive at least long enough to start living. Calling this our job would be a dream come true, but there's still a long road ahead until that!

✦ WE SUCCESSFULLY FUNDED LOST IN LIMBO ON KICKSTARTER!

And you were right if you thought this was our most important milestone of the year!

Honestly, I low-key thought we weren't gonna make it. As I said—four people with no budget, paying for what we couldn't do ourselves with what our grandmas give us on Christmas—what were the chances anyone would be interested in helping us fund our game?

But we still had to do it, because making it this far and not risking not being funded would be madness. So there we were, opening Photoshop with tears in our eyes, watching our mediocre bank accounts get obliterated and working on the Kickstarter graphics with nothing but glitter and Jesus.

Also, we were asking for a lot of money and it was our first project. We've seen firsthand a lot of projects fail, a lot of people being scammed, and a lot of projects not going like the audience and devs wanted. So I thought we were a bit doomed.

Well, turns out there are people who believe in us and our project, so I was proved wrong. Maybe our graphics were really cool in the end, huh? I worked my ass off on those! /silly

So 980 people donated almost 60k euros and on September 27th, Lost in Limbo became officially a thing. Which is wild. I don't think I believe it still, honestly.

Of course, not everything went smoothly! As first timers we made a lot of mistakes, but we knew we were going to mess up something. Sometimes it was us, sometimes it was Backerkit or Kickstarter...Truth is watching a million YouTube tutorials, reading articles or learning about other devs' journeys doesn't make you ready to run a Kickstarter. There's some stuff you can only learn while running it!

So we ordered our merch, had our 🎉first delay🎉 because we made a mistake with our pins, and managed to deliver our digital goodies to our backers without blowing up (almost) anything.

✦ WE FUNDED OUR VERY OWN SOUNDTRACK!

And it'll consist of 19 original tracks by our wonderful composer Tomás Palazzi! 💜

✦ WE RELEASED OUR FIRST DEMO!

And overall, people seem to enjoy it! In fact, we recently reached +10k downloads and +71k views on itch! T^T

Of course, getting our demo out there was nerve-wracking, but we received a lot of love, and that includes wonderful and constructive feedback from a lot of folks who love our project and want it to succeed in its best form. Incredible content creators played our demo, reviewed it—and we've met amazing and stunningly creative people in the process!

However, as with anything you publish for others to see, not everyone is going to like it, and I think as a team we needed to also be exposed to that. There have been negative reviews that have helped us improve, and some others that have made us realize that our game, just like any other, isn't for everyone, and that's okay—our game isn't perfect and it won't ever be, and that's okay. As creators and creatives, accepting the critiques that help us improve is as important as letting go of the ones that contribute nothing, and to accept there are some things we don't want to change.

Of course there have been nasty or rude reviews, (most of them private) and albeit there were very few of them, but that was guaranteed. We try to have a few laughs at those!

✦ WE CREATED OUR OWN DISCORD SERVER!

And it's brimming with life!? We are almost 400 members and I may be biased, but it's full of amazing, supportive, and incredibly creative people. It feels so strange to see people talk daily about your game, about your characters—theorize, laugh, ask stuff...I can only hope our members feel at home as much as we do, because even if we can't interact with everyone all the time, just reading y'all makes us extremely happy :')

✦ WE STARTED WORKING ON OUR EXTENDED DEMO!

And it's going great! The script is doing better than expected, even if I'm editing more stuff than I originally planned. Implementing feedback we received during our survey is helping me improve the pace, storytelling and dynamism of the script. I'm an overthinker so I know I'm most likely editing / adding more stuff than I planned, but so is the way of the west.

Raquel has (as you all know) been working on the reworked sprites, and for now there's 4/7 done! 💜 We also have finished one of the new backgrounds and one is close to being done. That's 2/3!

Also, thanks to y'all buying extra stuff via Backerkit, we've managed to raise a bit more money and have been able to commission Airyn for help on the extended demo, as well as Allie (our editor) and the wonderful, the Ren'py Jesus, Feniks, to help us with our programming adventures! So technically we didn't reach our second stretch goal (outsourcing) but the extra coins have allowed us to hire some help!

That's all for 2024! Phew! Now, our plans for 2025 are quite simple (me when I lie).

First of all we want to ship our Kickstarter merch (more on that on a Kickstarter update coming soon!)

Finish production for our Kickstarter artbook

Release our Extended Demo

For now, we are aiming for a June 2025 release of the prologue, and the first chapter of every route will follow soon after.

Open our Patreon!

We have to think about this thoroughly, plan it, and make sure we can offer quality stuff worthy of your support. Some of you have asked a lot about a Patreon but we want to make sure we make it right!

On a personal note—this year I have been working on my OCD, as last year, and booked with two therapists. My therapist (the one who diagnosed me last year), and a different one specialized in OCD. This year has been full of highs and lows, but I'm in a much better headspace than I was last year, to the point of my meds being lowered! ✌️

I also enrolled for my PhD program like a month ago, and I got accepted after a lot of college shenanigans that almost became my villain arc. So this year is going to be funny for me!

Every member of the team has had their personal issues to deal with this year. Mental health, family, etc. It hasn't been an easy year for us, but I'm happy to say we've been there for each other.

And I think that's all! Overall it has been an insane year. Very productive, very nerve-wracking, and incredibly awesome. We can only hope this year is as good as 2024 if not even better, both for us as people and for our game. We hope your 2024 has been good, and we also hope you are excited to make 2025 a year you can be proud of; but most importantly, a year in which you can take care of yourself, be at peace with who you are, discover new things about yourself, and crave a path to the future you want to live!

Talk to you all soon! 💜

[bigwishes]

I’m sick and tired of the asian stereotypes. Others keep saying that we’re small, short, weak, polite, smart, sexually repressive, submissive and so many more. Can you make me a complete opposite of what people expect from an Asian man as a hypersexualised, hyper grown and hyper masculine piece of bull meat?

I definitely think I can help with that. It sucks when people press assumptions on you, especially if you don't like the assumptions they make so I think its time we shake up your life to make sure the worlds sees you for how you want to be seen.

First lets start with your first wish, to be hypersexualised. I'm sure you already have an obsession for mega muscled beef cakes with little to no brains but lets turn that obsession up to eleven. You find that whenever you see a buff meat head you are instantly hard, and everyone else will notice it too with a new 15 inch dick, but lets not stop there. Once you get hard your body will almost instantly go on auto pilot as you cant help yourself but rub your dick through your pants, adjusting it, sometimes even straight up soft core jerking off in the middle of the gym. An alpha sex and masturbation addict. You just can't help yourself no matter what you try once you get hard you are forced to cum. Trying to ignore it just makes it worse as you'll get so hard and pent up it will almost be painful and your dick will be forced to leak pre until you give it the attention it demands, and you'll need to take care of it at least twelve times a day or else risk immediately cumming in your pants as soon as you get even slightly turned on.

Second, the hyper grown part of your wish. One of my favourites, there is no such thing as too big and you've got no other choice to agree. There is no going back now. We could just go and make you have to wear 4XL shirts and and baggy work out shorts but honestly dudes like that art still too small for my taste.

You find every inch of yourself growing, You slowly get taller and taller until you stand at a freakishly tall 8ft, your already muscled arms swell with extreme size as you feel your biceps and triceps start to compete for space with your over grown chest and lats. The sound of tearing fabric fills the room as you thighs inflate into thick muscled tree trunks. You watch as your feet burst out of your sneakers. Your underwear feels strange and rubbery as it begins to stretch, and you feel your ass get bigger by the second and the fabric of your new rubbery underwear ride up giving you a uncomfortable roid wedgie.

The thing about wanting to be Hyper-Grown means you dwarf even the biggest bodybuilders but a body like that has its limits. 8ft tall and over 500 pounds of muscle the only thing you can wear is uncomfortably tight stage posers.

and leggings so tight it feels like its crushing your dick.

If you want to get naked it'll take a good fifteen to twenty minutes of struggling and wrestling with the skin tight fabric and your extreme size just to get it off yourself.

and now for the final stage of your transformation Hyper masculinity. Say goodbye to clear communication dude as a majority of your vocabulary has been replaced with grunts, groans and moans. You spend more time grunting than speaking some people might mistake you for a cave man. Your blood also boils at the drop of a hat, any guy who even makes a joke about your freakish size you take as a personal challenge, stumping up to him and pressing him against the wall and your roided out body.

Your body starts to sweat, and a raw masculine stench fills the air around you. Even if you cared about washing the sweat off your body it wouldn't work anymore. You love how bad you reek, you love how your stench and sweat communicates to weaker men that you are a fucking beast. You don't clean any machine at the gym after using it, you leave a disgusting sweat puddle over everything like marking your territory.

Your mind starts to feel empty, like you have forgotten how to think, the only things that you seem to remember is you love muscle, getting bigger, flexing, your own sweat and jerking off. Even when dominating a guy smaller than you, you can't help but check yourself out in the mirror and love how big you are and how much bigger you're gonna force yourself to become.

Your head being so empty now means your personality has devolved into nothing more but the word bro, grunting and giggling like a typical gym bro.

But that hyper masculinity you wished for keeps that happy go lucky attitude in check as the slightly thing can set you off and make you go on a roided out rampage.

There we go, all your wishes granted, nobody will ever look at you and think of the typical Asian stereotypes ever again.

Unfortunately I can't stop people from assuming you are nothing more than a stupid sweaty roid bull, but honestly how far away from the truth is that.

[bbybhr]

Watching the stars with old man logan

A little drabble that Seriously is the fluffiest fluff that ever fuffed in my mind so enjoy

He will grunt and frown at the suggestion,saying he's too tired to engage in this kind of movie romance shit, but he will come with you. he never misses a chance to see the same old things through your heart shaped glasses. the same things he saw thousands of times, for decades and decades. things that he doesn't find amusing anymore, but with you anything feels new, so the hell with his aching bones.

You will pick the blankets, the fluffiest ones of course, same with the little pillows and you pick your favourite snacks also (his favourite snack is tasting your favourite of your tongue anyway) He'll carry everything you picked and prepared to the rooftop. laying one blanket on the ground so you can sit and be his muse.

After he finally sitted and placed the pillow in a comfortable way he gestures to you, already sitting and looking up at stars with awe.

"Come'ere princesses"

You lay on your back, his arms beneath your head like a pillow and his hand drawing shapes on your arm, you'll take a deep breath welcoming the cold air of the night in your lungs , your eyes flickering in admiration of the clear night... his eyes however didn't look up not for a second just looking down at you in his arms with lots of thoughts wondering around his mind, and he didn't miss how the voices and the uncomfortable fog of nightmare disappeared as soon as he had you this close.

He held you in his arms safe and secure, with your bright starry eyes. and he felt calm, the star sure weren't anything near new but this sensation definitely was. there was no worry, no war, even no pain anymore when he held you like this.

"Beautiful"

He murmured at you, so drown at every little detail in your face. every reflection of stars in the sky that he saw in your eyes enlighten somewhere in his heart that darkened over his long life. and how you smiled slightly didn't hide from his lingering eyes, making his own smile appear.

"I know isn't it? And you wanted to stay at home"

You voiced without looking at him.

"I am home"

He replied matter-of-factly pulling you a little closer to himself and laying the blanket on you afterwards. Everything was quiet, only the sound of your breath could've been heard. Although for logan and his hightene sense it was more...a harmony of your heartbeat and breathing. Until you broke the silence with an excited voice.

"Oh my god...make a wish make a wish"

You suddenly stated as you closed your eyes quickly, going through a lot of little things that you wanted to do, and a lot of them consists you and logan.

"Why?"

He asked confused, looking around for a second to make sure there isn't anything that you would mistake for a magic elf or something.

"didn't you saw the shooting star?"

You questioned while your eyes still closed trying not to miss anything in your list.

"What about it?"

He looked at you again, so kissable he thought.

"If you wish upon it it'll come true...now let me make my wish"

You dismissed him.

only thing he wanted most right now was for you to show those starfull gaze again... and you eventually did.

"What did ya wish for kid?"

"I can't say they won't come true that way"

His eyebrows raised.

"They, huh?a lot of labor for that poor passer"

You turned and looked up to him.

"So you just made one?"

He smiled slightly and grabbed your chin, tilting your head more towards himself, thumb coming up and caressing your bottom lip.

"No...I didn't need any darlin"

He kissed you softly afterwards, not rushed or breath taking...a kiss that has the spark of a wish come true...

[dsireland86]

Do you think you could write something about Matt and his obsession with fishnets with fem reader?

Hehehehehe I saw the tweets. Matthew has a dirty mind 🤣🤭

Fishnets

Tags: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers

Matt's got a thing for you and doesn't shy away from it either. He's constantly flirting with you, telling you how pretty you look and makes it a point to tap your ass every time he walks by you. It's subtle enough to keep it between you two, but hard enough that you still feel it an hour later.

He absolutely loves your legs, especially your thighs, never missing the opportunity to touch them or slide his finger between the crease of them when you're wearing those super short cotton ones while sitting down. He'll look you straight in the eye when he's doing it too, just to watch you get all heated and your breath hitch.

Fishnets. Matt's weakness. You heard him, Jolly, and Folio talking one late night on the bus about girls and fishnet stockings. Folio wasn't into them at all. Jolly said it was an occasional thing for him, more of an intimate pleasure, but for Matt... fishnets are his Achilles Heel.

For about an hour straight, he rambles on about them, thinking only of you when he's talking, too. "Fishnets... shit... good stuff, let me tell ya." "Fishnets are my TRIGGER!" "If a woman is wearing them, I'm a full on fool for her." "I'm a sucker for a lady in fishnets." "I WILL make mistakes because of girls in fishnets. MISTAKES."

You chuckle at watching how excited and nervous Matt gets, shifting in his seat and readjusting himself. Then he looks over and sees you staring at him, the little mischievous sparkle in his eyes, the smile lurking in the corner of his mouth, and you know, it's game on.

It's the last night of the tour. Matt's grabbing last-minute stuff from the bus before heading to do front of house. You come out of the tiny ass bathroom, slipping your shorts on over top of your black fishnets, cursing over how small the bathroom space is. Matt stands there watching you, mouth opened, eyes wide at what he's seeing. You're oblivious to his presence with your back to him as you bend over to zip up your combat boot, giving Matt a clear picture of your ass and what's under your shorts.

"Holy fuck." Matt's voice startles you and you turn around quickly, surprised at his presence. "Shit, Matt, you scared me," clutching your chest. "How long have you been standing there?" "Long enough," he replies with a grin. You smile shyly at him. Matt looks at his phone and realizes you've got time.

Pushing you back into the small ass bathroom, Matt closes the door and locks it. Because of the tiny quarters, your backside is pressed against the sink, and as Matt turns around to face you, he's instantly right up against you, so close that you feel his hard throbbing bulge pressed against you. It turns you one so much, making the black thong you're wearing wet. Without speaking, Matt lifts you up, sitting you on the counter. You brace your feet against the wall, locking Matt in between them, which he doesn't seem to mind.

You soon realize you both want what's happening and are in no way trying to stop it, no matter if it'll only lead to a quick few minutes thing. "We have time for romance later, baby," Matt tells you while undoing the button of your shorts and sliding them down and easily over your boots. "Spread them," he orders, parting your legs and looking directly at your heated sex that's covered by the thin black lace of your thong.

"Jesus, fuck," he curses. You grab him by the shirt and pull him into you, slamming your lips on his while removing his hat. Your hands tangle themselves in the softness of his dirty blonde hair as he slides your thong to the side, and because of how wet you are, inserts two fingers at a time inside you. You moan from the exhilarating pressure that's spreading you apart from each thrust of his fingers inside you.

Matt's other hand works your thigh, weaving his fingers through the holes of your fishnets. You hear the tiny rips of your stockings as Matt's fingers work you up into your first orgasm which his quickly approaching. The heat filling your lower abdomen as your pussy clenches tighter and tighter around his fingers makes Matt curse again. "God, you're pussy feels so fucking nice, baby. Just like I knew it would." You moan, pulling him into you because you're almost there. "Fuck, Matt, don't stop," you pant. "That's it, baby, be a slut on my fingers. Keep grinding on them, make yourself cum."

Matt's encouragement is all you need to let go as your orgasm crashes into you, making you clench his shirt tight and dig your nails into his back, baring your teeth into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He slides his fingers out of you and quickly undoes his shorts, letting them fall to the floor. Removing his boxers, Matt doesn't give you any recovery time as he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the counter, thrusting his cock deep inside you and making you cry out.

"Awe your pussy really is so tight, shit,' he grunts, grabbing your thighs through the fishnets and starts to fuck you hard. Neither of you speak, only keep direct eye contact as each thrust of Matt's brings you closer to the edge again. You moan his name quietly over and over, bracing yourself against the counter.

"These fucking fishnets are going to be the death of me," he growls, ripping them a little more as both his hands are pressed against your thighs, holding them down and spreading them open so he can watching himself go in and out of you. You love the way he licks his lips and how wide with lust his eyes are.

[freakywrites]

Play dress up

Kanato Sakamaki x you

Summary- ….kanato dresses you up? (DUH)

Can be read as fem reader, but anyone can wear a dress, so idk go crazy (*´-`)

Warning: UNEDITED - This isn’t really meant to be a romance, but like killing stalking romanticize it as you wish (jk!… it’s…it’s a joke) abuse!! he probably has u held captive - I think that's it?? One curse word???

Art made by me *im proud of it so praise me* (jk bit I did draw it like 5 in the morning so leave it be)

------------

Your stomach churns as you try to still your already fast beating heart and suppress the shaking fear you felt.

Sitting on a purple velvet chair you watched nervously as the violet haired creep delicately painted your nails, a sapphire blue. His big and dull eyes fixated on your hand that rested in his deadly pale ones, God forbid you even whimper when he makes a mistake and scratches rather harshly at your fingers.

“Doesn’t this color look good on them, Teddy?” Kanato spoke to the bear on your lap. “ I think so...” He mumbles to himself before blowing on the wet polish. “there you go! my doll looks too pretty~” he praised, and you could shiver at his nickname for you a reminder that you are nothing more than a toy to him. You're a living breathing doll he can treat however he likes with no pity or remorse.

The slim man grabbed your beaten up calf. You nearly yelped as he pressed gently at the fresh blue bruise and cuts, maybe testing for a reaction just so he has an excuse to get violent, but it's not like he needed one. Putting your foot so gently on his knee, he finally looked up at you, his eyes sending a cold wave over your body, his smile exposing those white fangs of his that hurt just by looking at them. “See? You look lovely in blue.” He spoke with such glee, almost taunting and playing with you, for he knows if you try to even push him away, he can force you back into submission.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Do you hate it?” His mood shifted and his smile dropped to a snarl nails digging at your skin. Opening your dry mouth, you spoke. “I like it.” A simple sentence sending him back to his toothy grin. “I’m glad because I like it too!” He gleefully spoke, loosening his grip on you.

He painted your toe nails next, and you hear the alarms in your head ring. A few days ago he was shaving your legs pressing a little to tightly he sliced your skin and as a reaction to the pain you yelped and kicked away only for him to grab you in anger yelling insults and cut at your skin till you where covered in red dripping beads of blood that he will lick at. But today, he had no weapons with him other than his teeth and hands

Before you knew it, he was done with his little forced manicure and pulled out a dress that was on the side of a table. He turned to you and spoke, "Come here." You reluctantly got up off your seat shifting a bit as you felt your sore muscles and skin ache like your whole body was one big bruise and with every step was a throbbing pain sent from your feet to your head.

"Do you know what kind of dress this is?" He spoke as be pressed it to your body. You would roll your eyes and sigh if that action wouldn't lead him to poke your eyes out with a needle or something. You spoke "u-um blue?" What an idiotic answer for an idiotic question. "Wrong! It's a dress modeled after the ones of the 1870s." He said, leaning into your face his tired eyes looking to your nervous ones. "I got it costumly made for you, so it'll fit you perfectly." You stare back at him and gulp down any of your insults.

You were finally dressed corset on not so tightly and flat velvet shoes on because he knows your feet hurt? For a guy that beats the shit out of you often, he has a weird way to care for you. While you stare in the full body mirror, you were surprised the dress was very beautiful and detailed black lace on the edges of the short sleeve and a v-neck that exposes your neck and colorbones probably for easy access but to top it of Kanato places a tear drop amethyst necklace with a chain of your preferred type of metal. How did he know that was your favorite?You hold the jewel in your hand, running your finger on the chain.

"Do you like it?" He said as he hugged at his teddy. And you nodded, tilting your head as you admire yourself before you spoke.

"...yes its...beautiful."

------------

A/N: ah yess diabolik lovers one of my first animas next to black butler.... yeah now I know why I had fucked up morales at the age of like 12.

Also got into it again cuz I reacently started watching itMustBeK8 and they watched like diabolik like a 2 years ago- BUT IM NOT OVER MY FUCKED UP VAMP DUDES IDC. AND go watch them they are one of the reasons im going through the week 🙄

Anyways love yall XOXO 💋

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Playing for Keeps | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Chapter 6

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Words: ~4,900

Tags: Modern AU, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Hurt/No Comfort, Drama

The soft glow of light filtered through the windows and spilled into dormitory, painting the room in shades of green as you sat in front of the mirror, your heart thudding nervously in your chest. Imelda, perched on the edge of your bed, leaned back on her hands, smirking as she watched you fidget with the hem of your dress for the third time.

“You’re overthinking it,” she said, her tone amused. “It’s a party, not a royal ball.”

“I know,” you muttered, smoothing the fabric once more before turning to face her. “I just… want to make a good impression.”

Imelda raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “A good impression on who, exactly? Because if it’s Prewett, you’ve already got half the school buzzing about you two showing up together.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you avoided her gaze, busying yourself with the small pile of jewelry on the dresser. “It’s not like that,” you said, though the words felt hollow even as you spoke them.

“Please,” Imelda drawled, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up. “You’ve been practically glowing every time he so much as looks at you all week. And don’t even get me started on how much it’s been pissing off Sebastian.”

At that, you couldn’t help but smile faintly. Sebastian’s reaction had been… satisfying, to say the least. Every time he caught sight of you and Leander together, his jaw would tighten, and his dark eyes would narrow in a way that only made Imelda’s teasing more relentless.

“Did I tell you what he said in Defense yesterday?” Imelda asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “He practically bit Ominis’s head off for suggesting Prewett was good at dueling. It was hilarious.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t deny the flicker of amusement that danced in your chest. “He’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Imelda said, shrugging. “But you’ve got to admit, it’s entertaining.”

You studied your reflection in the mirror, the cream dress you and Imelda had chosen earlier draping softly over your frame. The green turtleneck layered underneath added a cozy, autumnal touch, and the dark tights and knee-high boots pulled everything together. It wasn’t flashy or overdone, but it felt right—comfortable yet confident. Still, the knot of nerves in your stomach refused to loosen.

Imelda, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, tilted her head and gave you an approving once-over. “You look stunning. Prewett’s going to lose his mind.”

“You’re sure going with him isn’t a mistake?” you asked, glancing at Imelda.

She rolled her eyes, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “Listen, Chouette, you’re going to have fun. Leander obviously likes you. It'll be fine, just focus on enjoying yourself, yeah?”

You let out a breath, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at Imelda’s words. She had a way of cutting through the noise, even if her methods were sometimes less than subtle.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your fingers brushing over the hem of your dress one last time. “You're right.”

“Good,” Imelda said with a satisfied nod. She reached over, plucking a stray thread from your sleeve before stepping back and giving you one final once-over. “Now, let’s not keep Prewett waiting. He might spontaneously combust.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head as you grabbed your small bag from the dresser. “He’s not that dramatic.”

Imelda raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Please. He’s probably pacing outside the common room right now, rehearsing what he’s going to say when he sees you. Gryffindors are all about theatrics.”

Rolling your eyes, you followed her out of the dormitory and into the bustling Slytherin common room. A few students glanced your way as you passed, their curious gazes lingering for just a moment before returning to their conversations. It was a strange sensation, being the center of attention—even in passing. At Beauxbatons, you’d blended in more often than not. Here, it felt impossible to stay unnoticed.

“So,” Imelda said casually as you rounded the corner, “any idea what you’re going to do if Prewett makes a move tonight?”

You stumbled slightly, nearly missing a step. “What?”

Imelda smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You know, if he decides to make this little date of yours official. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

Your cheeks burned, and you looked away, focusing on the flickering torchlight lining the corridor. “I don’t know. It’s not like I have a plan.”

“Well, you should,” Imelda said matter-of-factly. “Because knowing Prewett, he’s going to do something bold.”

You let out a huff, unsure whether to laugh or groan. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Anytime,” she said with a grin, nudging your shoulder as you stopped at the common room door. She reached out, giving your hand a quick, firm squeeze. “You’ve got this."

You managed a small, nervous smile, the warmth of her hand grounding you. “Thanks, Imelda.”

She rolled her eyes, though her smirk returned. “Don’t make me regret being nice, Chouette. I’ll see you there in a bit.” With a playful shove, she stepped back and gestured toward the door. “Now go."

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped into the corridor. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows along the stone walls, and there he was—leaning casually against the opposite wall, arms crossed over his chest.

Leander looked effortlessly put-together in a denim jacket layered over a plain white t-shirt, paired with dark trousers and clean white sneakers. He glanced up as the door creaked open, a slow grin spreading across his face when he saw you.

“Well, don’t you look stunning,” he said, pushing off the wall and shoving his hands into his pockets as he approached. His eyes flickered over your outfit, appreciation clear in his gaze. “I feel a bit underdressed now.”

You felt your cheeks warm, your nerves replaced with a flicker of pride. “You look great,” you said, your voice softer than you intended.

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Why thank you.” Gesturing toward the corridor, he tilted his head. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, matching his easy smile.

Leander offered his arm, and after a moment of hesitation, you looped yours through his. The gesture was simple but surprisingly reassuring, and as the two of you started down the corridor, you felt a little less nervous.

“So,” he began, glancing sideways at you with a playful glint in his eye, “what’s the game plan for tonight? Dancing? Drinking? Impressing everyone with your impeccable charm?”

You laughed, the sound easing the lingering tension in your chest. “Let’s start with getting a drink, and then we’ll see about the rest.”

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin widening.

Leander led you through the winding corridors of the castle, his arm still linked with yours as the distant sound of laughter and chatter echoed faintly from other groups heading to their own Friday night plans.

“Alright, here’s the deal," he said, tilting his head toward you. "Garreth’s family farm is just a quick trip by Floo Powder. The name is Weasley’s Hollow."

“Weasley’s Hollow?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds cozy.”

“It’s brilliant,” Leander said with a grin. “And he’s gone all out—bonfire, music, plenty of drinks, and, knowing him, probably something dangerous involving fireworks.”

You chuckled. “That sounds promising.”

“Don’t worry,” he added with a wink. “I’ll make sure you’re not anywhere near the blast zone.”

When you reached the Floo station near the Great Hall, Leander released your arm and gestured toward the powder in the small container by the hearth. “After you,” he said, stepping back to let you go first.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing between him and the swirling green flames in the fireplace. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed a handful of powder and stepped into the hearth.

“Weasley’s Hollow,” you said clearly, tossing the powder at your feet. The flames roared around you, and the world blurred into a whirl of green light and spinning sensation.

When you stumbled out on the other side, the first thing you noticed was the crisp night air. It smelled of hay, woodsmoke, and freshly turned earth, a pleasant mix that immediately grounded you. Blinking, you straightened and took in the scene before you.

Garreth’s family farm was charming, to say the least. The centerpiece was a large, weathered barn draped in strands of glowing fairy lights that cast a warm golden hue over the surrounding area. To the side, a roaring bonfire crackled, surrounded by hay bales that served as makeshift seating. Groups of students were already gathered around it, laughing and chatting as the flames danced against the darkening sky.

Leander appeared beside you moments later, brushing ash off his sleeves as he stepped out of the Floo. “Told you it was brilliant,” he said, his grin widening as he took in your expression. “Come on, let’s grab a drink."

He guided you toward a makeshift bar set up just outside the barn, where bottles of liquor floated mid-air, pouring themselves into waiting glasses. The enchanted setup drew a steady stream of students, each one eagerly grabbing a drink before slipping back into the crowd.

Garreth was stationed nearby, his trademark grin wider than ever as he greeted everyone who arrived. He caught sight of you and Leander approaching and threw his arms up dramatically. “Leander! Chouette! You made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Leander replied, clapping Garreth on the shoulder. “This is impressive, Weasley. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Garreth beamed, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “What can I say? We Weasleys know how to throw a party. So Chouette, what’ll it be? Firewhiskey? Something sweeter? Or are you feeling adventurous?”

You hesitated, eyeing the array of drinks hovering nearby. “I’ll try whatever you recommend.”

“Ah, brave choice,” Garreth said, wagging his eyebrows. With a quick wave of his wand, he summoned a glass filled with a shimmering, iridescent liquid that shifted colors as it swirled. “This one’s a specialty of mine.”

You took the glass hesitantly, the faint sparkle of the liquid catching thelight. “Thanks,” you said, lifting it to your lips. The first sip was a burst of sweetness followed by a warm, spicy tingle that spread down your throat. “Wow,” you said, genuinely impressed. “That’s... really good.”

Garreth puffed up with pride. “I know.”

Leander grabbed his own drink—a pint of beer—and gestured toward the bonfire. “Let’s find a spot to sit.”

You followed him, weaving through the clusters of students until you reached a hay bale near the edge of the fire. The warmth of the flames chased away the chill in the air, and the golden light painted everyone in soft, flickering hues. Around you, conversations buzzed with laughter above the blaring music.

Leander plopped down on the hay bale, patting the spot beside him. “Best seats by the fire.”

You joined him, cradling your drink in your hands as you glanced around. A few familiar faces caught your eye—Natty and Cressida chatting animatedly near the barn, Imelda lounging with a group of girls you vaguely recognized, and even Ominis, who looked surprisingly relaxed.

Then, across the bonfire, your gaze landed on Sebastian.

It took a moment to register it was him, but when you did, you couldn’t help the way your eyes widened slightly. He looked different tonight—different enough that your breath caught for a split second. The sharp contrast of his usual disheveled uniform and baggy sweatpants to the outfit he wore now was striking.

A loose black button-up with abstract line art draped over his broad frame, the collar open just enough to reveal a glint of silver from the chains around his neck. A plain white t-shirt peeked out from underneath, tucked into fitted black trousers held up by a simple belt, the hint of a chain hanging casually from his hip.

He held a half-empty glass of firewhiskey in one hand, his fingers loose around the rim, while the other rested in the pocket of his trousers. A group of girls surrounded him, laughing at something he’d said, their attention fixed on him like moths to a flame. One of them—a brunette with a shy smile—leaned in to whisper something into his ear, her hair brushing against his shoulder.

But he wasn’t paying attention to her. His dark eyes were locked on you.

It was the kind of look that made the air around you feel heavier, like the world had shrunk down to the two of you and everything else was a blur. His expression was unreadable, a perfect mask of indifference, but there was a heat in his gaze that belied the calm facade.

You quickly looked away, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Everything alright?” Leander asked, nudging you gently with his shoulder.

You blinked, realizing you’d been quiet for a beat too long. “Yeah,” you said quickly, your voice steady even though your pulse was anything but. “Just... a lot of people here I still don't know."

Leander’s grin softened, and he leaned back slightly, his arm brushing against yours as he did. “You’ll get to know them,” he said, his tone warm and reassuring. “Give it time. You’ve already made quite the impression—believe me.”

You managed a small smile, grateful for his words even as your mind drifted back to the look Sebastian had given you. You could still feel it lingering, a phantom weight pressing at the edge of your awareness. Shaking it off, you turned your focus back to Leander.

“Besides,” he added with a wink, raising his pint in mock toast, “you’ve got me. I’ll introduce you to everyone worth knowing.”

You chuckled softly, lifting your glass in return. “Lucky me.”

“Damn right,” he teased, clinking his pint against your glass before taking a long sip. “Now, on that note, I guess we should mingle a bit. Garreth’s got half the school here tonight—might as well make the most of it.”

He stood, extending a hand to help you up from the hay bale. You hesitated for just a second, your gaze flickering back to the bonfire. Sebastian was still there, still surrounded by admirers, but his attention had shifted—his expression cool, his focus elsewhere.

Taking Leander’s hand, you let him pull you to your feet, his grip warm and steady. “Lead the way,” you said, your smile more confident now as you followed him into the crowd.

The music grew louder as you moved closer to the barn, where a small group of students had taken over an improvised dance floor. Others lingered near the drink station or lounged on the hay bales scattered around the field, their laughter and voices blending into the lively hum of the party.

Leander was true to his word, introducing you to a mix of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs you hadn’t met yet. There was Finn, a lanky Hufflepuff with an infectious laugh; Amara, a Ravenclaw who seemed to know every obscure fact about magical creatures; and Maeve, a Gryffindor with a quick wit and a love for Quidditch that rivaled Imelda’s.

The drinks flowed freely, and you found yourself relaxing into the rhythm of the party. You laughed until your sides hurt at Garreth’s theatrical reenactment of last year's quidditch final. Natty and Cressida pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor at one point, the three of you twirling and swaying to a few lively tunes that seemed to set the entire barn alight with energy. Late into the night, Imelda challenged you to a round of darts—and to her utter disbelief, you managed to beat her in a nail-bitingly close match, earning a round of cheers from the small crowd gathered nearby.

But every so often, you felt it again—that weight, that pull. It was subtle, like the whisper of a breeze brushing against your skin, but you knew exactly where it came from. You resisted the urge to look, to seek him out across the crowd, but the awareness of Sebastian’s presence never fully faded.

All the while, Leander stayed close, his easy charm and quick humor keeping you grounded. It wasn’t until the two of you found yourselves back at the bonfire, the flames casting dancing shadows over the crowd, that you realized how much you’d loosened up. Your drink was empty again, your cheeks were warm from laughter and alcohol, and everything around you was a blurry haze.

Leander nudged you lightly, his grin easy and playful as he tilted his head toward you, slurring slightly. “You having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your smile coming naturally. The warmth of the evening, the hum of conversation around you, and Leander’s lighthearted energy made it hard not to feel at ease. “I am.”

“Good,” he said, his tone softening just a touch. Then, before you could respond, Leander leaned in, and the kiss that followed caught you completely off guard.

It was sloppy—his movements slightly uncoordinated, the unmistakable scent of alcohol lingering on his breath. There was no slow build, no gentle exploration. Instead, the kiss was insistent, almost demanding, and the weight of it felt heavier than you’d expected. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t... romantic. Not in the way you’d imagined it would be.

Around you, cheers and whistles erupted, the sound snapping you back to reality. You became acutely aware of the eyes on you—the students gathered around the bonfire, their laughter and applause cutting through the haze of the moment.

Leander’s grip tightened, his hand sliding down from your waist toward the curve of your ass. It wasn’t subtle, and the possessiveness of the gesture made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You felt your heart race for all the wrong reasons now, the moment shifting from surprising to overwhelming.

You pulled back quickly, your movements slightly unsteady but firm. “I—uh—” You chuckled awkwardly, brushing a hand over your hair as you tried to regain your composure. “I need to pee.”

Leander blinked, clearly caught off guard by your sudden retreat. “Oh,” he said, his voice slurring slightly. His hand lingered at your hip for a moment too long before he let go, stepping back with a sheepish grin. “Sure. Here, I'll show you where to go."

He led you away from the bonfire, his hand brushing lightly against the small of your back as he guided you toward the barn. The cool night air helped clear your head, but your pulse still thrummed uncomfortably, the alcohol and adrenaline swirling together in a dizzying mix.

He guided you through a door tucked at the side of the barn, and you immediately noticed how different this space felt from the lively party outside. This section had been transformed into a modest guest house, cozy and welcoming.

“This way,” Leander said, nodding toward a narrow hallway. He stopped in front of one of the doors and pushed it open, revealing a small bathroom. “Here.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.

The bathroom was simple—white tiles, a pedestal sink, and a mirror that reflected your slightly disheveled appearance; flushed cheeks and slightly smudged makeup giving away the evening’s indulgences. You reached for a nearby towel, dabbing at the corners of your lips where the faint taste of Leander’s beer lingered.

It hadn’t been a bad kiss, you told yourself, staring at the mirror as if daring your reflection to argue. A bit messy, sure, but what did you expect? He was drunk, you were drunk, and kisses at parties weren’t exactly the stuff of fairytales.

Still, the weight of it lingered—not in your lips, but in the pit of your stomach. You felt his grip again, the way his hand had slid down too eagerly, too fast. The cheers and whistles of the crowd echoed faintly in your mind, reminding you that it hadn’t been private, hadn’t been... yours.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck as you tried to push the swirling thoughts aside. You’re overthinking it, you told yourself firmly. Leander was charming, kind, and undeniably handsome. He’d made his interest in you clear for weeks, and now he’d finally kissed you. So why couldn’t you just be happy about it?

With a deep breath, you straightened, smoothing down your dress. You were fine. Everything was fine. Time to go back out there and enjoy the rest of the night.

As you opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway, the faint murmur of voices reached your ears. The alcohol buzzing faintly in your veins dulled your senses for a moment, but as the conversation sharpened, the words hit like a splash of cold water.

“She’s already half in my pocket,” Leander murmured, low but confident, tinged with smugness. “That kiss sealed the deal. I've got this in the bag.”

A pause. Then, Sebastian’s voice, sharp and biting. “You’re such a piece of shit, Prewett. Do you even hear yourself? You’re treating her like a bloody prize.”

“And you’re not?” Leander shot back, his tone mocking. “Don’t act all righteous, Sallow. You shook on this just as much as I did. First one to fuck her wins, and you're just pissed you’re out gonna be out fifty galleons."

The air seemed to thin, and your chest tightened as the words sank in. Fifty Galleons. A bet. They’d made a bet about you. You weren’t even sure you were breathing anymore as you pressed yourself against the wall, their voices continuing just out of sight.

“I don't give a shit about the money," Sebastian’s voice dropped, quieter but no less cutting. "You’re treating her like she's a bloody puppet."

“Oh, please,” Leander scoffed, the sound bitter. “Don’t pretend you care about her feelings. You’re only pissed because, for once, someone doesn't fucking like you.”

“She doesn’t like you, either,” Sebastian shot back, his voice rising slightly. "She doesn't bloody know you."

The anger in Sebastian’s voice was palpable, and it echoed down the hallway, each word digging deeper into your chest. You gripped the doorknob, trying to steady yourself as your stomach turned, bile rising in your throat.

Leander laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. “She knows enough. Enough to kiss me in front of everyone. Enough to enjoy it. You think you can change her mind with that broody, tortured act of yours? Give it up, Sallow."

You felt the weight of too many emotions all at once: embarrassment that burned hot in your cheeks, humiliation that twisted like a knife in your gut, pain that felt like a physical blow to the chest. And anger. Hot, consuming, blinding anger.

You should have known better. You did know better.

Guys like Leander Prewett didn’t actually go for girls like you. Of course there had to be a catch.

He was charming, effortlessly handsome, and the kind of boy who could turn heads with a single smile. The kind of boy who had no shortage of girls vying for his attention—slim, flawless, perfectly polished girls who could have stepped right out of a Witch Weekly spread. You weren’t like them. You weren’t the skinny girl on the cheer squad, or the one everyone whispered about in corridors, calling her “stunning” or “a total catch.”

You didn’t fit the mold. Your body didn’t move the way theirs did in dainty little steps, your curves didn’t lend themselves to the standard of delicate beauty they embodied. At Beauxbatons, it had been the same—Étienne and Hugo hadn’t spared you a second glance, not when they were too busy flirting with the more conventionally perfect girls in their year.

So why would Hogwarts be any different?

And yet, you’d let yourself believe it. You’d let yourself hope that Leander might actually like you. That maybe you weren’t the punchline of someone else’s joke.

But you were. You always had been.

And Sebastian… Merlin, you didn’t know why you were surprised. The sharp remarks, the teasing smirks, the way he seemed to live for getting under your skin—it had always been there, a constant, unwavering irritation in your life.

You felt like an idiot for letting yourself believe, even for a moment, that his apology on the pitch had been genuine. He’d looked so earnest then, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it, his words careful, deliberate. But you should’ve known better. Sebastian Sallow didn’t change: that apology had been nothing more than a performance.

You wanted to cry, to sink into the ground and let the humiliation swallow you whole. But the tears didn’t come. You were too consumed by anger.

It flared like wildfire, eliminating every other emotion in its path until all that remained was raw, unrelenting fury. Your heart pounded in your ears as you pushed off the wall, your movements smooth and deliberate as you strode down the hallway. They didn’t notice you at first, too caught up in their argument, their voices low but heated.

“When she finds out the truth," Sebastian was saying, his tone icy, "You’re going to regret ever opening your mouth.”

Leander snorted, the sound dismissive, almost smug. “If she finds out, you're just as fucked as I am.”

You rounded the corner without hesitation, cold rage sharpening your every step. Both boys froze the moment they saw you, their eyes widening as the color drained from their faces. Leander straightened instinctively, his cocky grin faltering, while Sebastian’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes locking onto yours with something that looked uncomfortably close to panic.

“Shit,” Leander muttered under his breath, his gaze darting anywhere but at you.

“So, this is what it’s been about?” you spat, your voice low but laced with venom. “A fucking bet?”

Leander opened his mouth, stumbling over his words. “It’s not like that,” he stammered, the easy charm he usually wielded nowhere to be found. “I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what, Leander?” you cut in, your voice rising slightly. “You didn’t bet fifty galleons that you could fuck me first?”

Leander’s face flushed a deep, uncomfortable red, his usual bravado collapsing under the weight of your glare. “I didn’t mean—look, it was just—”

“Just what?” you demanded, stepping closer, the distance between you closing with every word. “A game? A joke? A little entertainment at my expense because, what, you thought since I'm not a size fucking two I’d be grateful for your attention?”

Leander’s mouth opened and closed, his confidence nowhere to be found. “I—I didn’t—I never thought that,” he stammered, his voice weak and cracking under the pressure.

“Oh, spare me,” you snapped, your hands clenching into fists at your sides. “You're only pissing yourself because you thought I wouldn’t catch on. That I wouldn’t find out what a shallow, spineless coward you are.”

Leander took a half-step back, his eyes darting to Sebastian as if hoping for backup, but Sebastian wasn’t looking at him. No, Sebastian’s gaze was locked on you, something unreadable flickering in his expression—guilt, maybe, or regret. It didn’t matter.

“And you,” you said, whirling on Sebastian, your voice dripping with venom. “Why am I even surprised? You’ve been an absolute prick to me since the day we met. All those jabs, the constant needling—guess it all makes sense now. And no wonder you were so bloody insistent I stay away from Prewett. You didn’t care about me; you just didn’t want to lose your precious fifty galleons.”

Your laugh was sharp, humorless, cutting through the tension like a blade. “And here I was, actually stupid enough to believe you meant what you said after quidditch tryouts. But of course, that was just part of the game, wasn’t it? A ploy to get me into bed? That’s on me, I guess. My mistake for thinking you could have any fucking decency."

Sebastian flinched, his shoulders stiffening, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t try to explain. He just stood there, staring at you with that unreadable look on his face.

You could feel your pulse hammering in your ears, your vision blurring slightly from the tears you refused to shed. “Now do me a favor,” you said, your voice cold and steady. “And stay the fuck away from me.”

Leander took a step forward, his hand lifting as though he might reach out, but the fury in your glare stopped him dead in his tracks. Sebastian remained frozen, his jaw tight, his fists still clenched as though he was trying to hold himself together.

You didn’t wait for their responses.

With a quick, angry flick of your wand, you disapparated, the world spinning around you as the barn and its suffocating betrayal vanished in an instant.

When you landed, the familiar chill of the Hogwarts grounds greeted you. You were just outside the castle gates, the sprawling grounds stretching out before you in the moonlight. The air was crisp and biting, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and grass.

The weight of everything hit you at once.

You stumbled forward a few steps before sinking to your knees on the cold ground. The tears you’d held back finally broke free, spilling down your cheeks in hot, angry streams. Your chest heaved with silent sobs, the sound of your breathing ragged and uneven as you buried your face in your hands.

How could you have been so stupid?

You should've known better.

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