#once again this game continues to come up with ways to absolutely fucking wreck me

[aquilamage]

got to Five Pebbles in Hunter!!!!!!!! (screams)

so he yoinks NSH's neuron and is like hm. interesting. I could use this. but it looks like it was made specifically for Looks to the Moon, who's doing a lot worse than me. She (first time this game has pronouned them, lol) is not too far from here, "much shorter than customary. A circumstance that has led to some difficulties between us"

"some difficulties" is a hell of a way to phrase it, you little shit, but yeah! Also, he's talking about Looks to the Moon!!!!!!! Something I have very much wanted from the game so!!!

"I am not without responsibility for her situation." Once again, you don't fucking say, but also! Freely admitting to what he's done in a situation where he absolutely could have left that out! (Also like, helps confirm this is pre-survivor Looks to the Moon died after the shit that went down in those Sky Islands pearls)

"It would only be suiting that I aided in this...rescue mission." And then some stuff about you're fucking dying. I was not equipped to help before shit went fucked but I can help a little, and then he adds some cycles!

"You do not have much time. It is admirable what you choose to do with it" <- this shit fucks with me because a) It immediately reminded me of Looks to the Moon's very similar comment to Hunter and aaaaaaaa tiny sibling parallel and also b) it says a lot about him that he would have that interpretation of the events when he could be thinking something else like that we're foolish or stupid or wasting what we have and AUGH

"Send my regards" FIVE PEBBLES I AM BITING YOU. Send my regards. How exactly?!? You little fuck you go write your sister a pearl letter right the fuck now I will sit my little slugcat butt on your floor and WAIT! agdj;bfdkgrrr

Anyway then he says "Thank you little creature" which I have to assume is about the fact that I'm trying to help Looks to the Moon and therefore I am screaming!!!

Fuck! He's such a good character!!!!!!!! If it weren't for the fact that I'm severely biased for Looks to the Moon and he hurt them I would be calling him the "they did nothing wrong (said fully knowing they did all that shit)" fandom term I forget what it is.

Like despite everything he did he still cares about his sibling and wsdklsfdlkasflkj LET THEM TALK! GAME! I'm that reaction image drawing of a person on all fours with red eyes and something clutched between their sharp teeth and then they violently shake their head back and forth holding the thing!!!!!!!

So yeah now I'm gonna circle back around to Looks to the Moon and resurrect her. I am soooo desperately hoping this is gonna trigger some kind of new dialogue because fuck! Even without direct communication if it turns out she does now know that Five Pebbles helped!?!?!? I will tear myself open about that.

Currently I am traveling with NSH's neuron and also a pearl I accidentally stole from Five Pebbles' room. (I dropped what else I was holding and grabbed it trying to get the other thing back. He said "Yes, help yourself. They are not edible." which I am interpreting as being said in the most hilariously dry voice possible). I had no idea you could actually take his pearls and am now both in general curious what it says and also wondering if having something of his will trigger a reaction from Looks to the Moon about seeing him that just showing up might not.

After that though I'm planning on going to a backup save from just before this and stealing one of Five Pebbles' neurons to see if a) that would also revive Looks to the Moon (current hypothesis is no especially after Pebbles saying the other neuron was specifically formatted to help her) and b) if it gives different regular neuron-giving dialogue than in Survivor and Monk.

Also I saw the Hunter Five Pebbles dialogue twice because the first time I accidentally stayed in too long and he killed me about it. The second time through I tried to see if he would react to NSH's pearl and had that out and the neuron in my stomach (when I had it the other way around before), but he just made me spit out the neuron and didn't react differently. So now I gotta also check and see what he has to say if I show up without the neuron at all.

[daedalusdavinci]

My Riddlebat Recs

ive read most of the stuff in the riddlebat tag. most of it. i dont really read any batman 22 stuff, but ive read just about everything else. that said, heres a list of some of my favorites ive read!

first of all, jovialJuggernaut and fromjannah write my absolute favorite riddlebat fics of all time, so theyre gonna be on this list a LOT. i dont think i put all of their fics on here, tho, so im just telling you right now that you should 100% check out everything both of those authors have. i will link some of my favorites below tho along w some of my other recs

baby lose the costume

by @fromjannah

"Hey," Eddie says, impossibly soft. The lights are so bright. "C'mon, Crusader. You're here. Listen to my voice." Bruce can only oblige. Easy as breathing.

Bruce, Eddie, and a late night visit to Arkham that goes a little sideways.

read all of fromjannahs unburied fics. do it. immediately. rn. they are all devastatingly good and frankly some of the best riddlebat fics out there. this one in particular is so melancholy and aching and it wrecks me every time yes i reread it all the time i reread ALL of their unburied fics

once more to see you

by @fromjannah

The Riddler has been missing for over a year -- that is, until tonight. Bruce Wayne has very normal feelings about this.

shortened version of the summary bc im just reccing everything from fromjannah and you need to just start accepting that theyre all good. the way they write eddie is so perfect

ghar aaja pardesi

by saheeli (@sa-heelies on tumblr i think?)

Bruce gets the news on a Tuesday. The letters start coming on Wednesday. Or; Eddie escapes from Arkham again. He leaves a trail of clues behind him so that Bruce and Barbara can follow.

ohh this one is so good. i think its the longest of the unburied ones and i think it was the first one i read?? the set up and eventual payoff is so good and sweet and barbara and eddies relationship OFC is iconic. this was the fic that made me realize i desperately needed to listen to unburied

a dreaded sunny day

by @lesbiantriphosphate

“Who do you think I am, Bruce Wayne?” He smirks. “Or should I be asking: do you know who you are?” Bruce takes his time to decide whether to continue the banter or answer truthfully. He can’t tell whether Eddie wants to continue their comfortable Riddler-versus-Batman game of talking around in circles, or if he’s just searching for an entrance into a more geniune conversation. “I think…” he starts and stops again. “Far too much, in my humble opinion,” Eddie quips as he makes his way over and sets two steaming mugs on the table.

more unburied bc the unburied dynamic is the best dynamic. this one is really fucking sweet ;;;;;;; i love it so much its very short but its such a good read

Unasked

by penguistificial

Edward had thought the only flaw in his perfectly planned crime was that nobody would ever be able to appreciate it - apart from himself. And yet, Batman had deftly deciphered all his clues, seen the solution Edward hadn't thought anyone would ever find. Doesn’t a correct answer deserve a reward? But, what to offer? What would be both acceptable and accepted?

this ones good! its a different take on their dynamic than the fics i usually read but its a very good take

Kings, Knights, Pawns

by jovialJuggernaut (@jovialjuggernaut-draws on tumblr)

riddle man gets to smooch the batman but its a slowburn so thatll be checks watch in a while updated summary when i can think of a good one update: it took 12 chapters but we made it, they smooched

the summary doesnt do it justice, honestly. as far as comics riddlebat goes this is THE riddlebat fic of all time as far as im concerned. this is the blueprint. this is It(TM). liam has such a way of writing eddie hes so irritating and whiny and fidgety as hell you just HAVE to love him. this fic is peak adhd4autism and the way they write bruces autism in this honestly totally influences the way i write bruce all the time. gamechanger of a fic, youve GOT to read it

Hurricane

by jovialJuggernaut

A hurricane hits Gotham and something (someone) washes up in the Batcave.

eddie w eds!!!! yes!!!!! one of my favorites of liams fics. that said, you should read ALL of liams riddlebat fics. they all go hard as fuck and honestly if i looked any further into my bookmarks itd all just be liam all the way down

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

THREE TO A DORM

SERO x DENKI x fem reader

Tw: cum eating, dirty talk

Word count: 2.3k

You just wanted to return the CD you had borrowed the other day. Never did you think you would walk in on Denki being face fucked like an industrial pocket pussy, by Hanta no less. You stood stock still in the doorway. At one of Denki's choked moans you realized that anyone could walk by and see what you were seeing. Somehow you walked fully into the room and shut the door behind yourself without alerting either man to your presence. They were much more engrossed in this mouth watering act then you had ever seen them while sharing most classes at your college due to your sister departments. 

Denki, a music major with a minor in art history, had pulled Hanta, a history major with a minor dance, over to you after the first class of the day had ended and begged you to hangout with them for lunch that day. You were flattered and more than a little happy to make friends two attractive men with an interest in history like yourself. After that day the three of you had been attached at the hip for the most part. All of which had led you to this moment watching your two best friends getting it on like porn stars in Denki's college dorm room. Not willing to be a one man audience till the very end you cleared your throat and called their names. Instantly they froze and turned their eyes your way. 

You were totally unprepared for what happened next. Instead of pulling away Hanta continued to fuck Denki's throat while staring straight at you. Denki, not to be out done, moaned like a whore and pulled his cock from his shorts to stroke himself, keeping his eye focused on you as best he could. Slowly Hanta's hips picked up speed making the wet sucking noise sound like they were booming through the room. The faster he fucked Denki's throat the fast Denki worked his own cock. You stood there just rubbing your thighs together as the men got bolder and more into this staring game. You wanted so badly to see what they would look like when they came.

You were never one to deny your sexual desires so you didn't. Keeping eye contact as best you could you pulled your shirt up over your head, leaving you in just a sports bra and the shorts you had worn to walk through the hall in. Both men's pupils blew wide with excitement. Hanta let out a small growl at the sight  of your exposed skin. Denki's grip on his cock became harsher and shit strokes faster. Grinning you ran your hands up and down your sides before pulling on the bottom of your bra and tossing it across the room where it comically smacked Hanta in the face before falling to the floor. Surprised by the action he let go of Denki's head, who fell back laughing. 

"Chica sucia do you think it's smart to provoke me? Do you think I won't just bend you over and punish that horny little pussy of yours?"

Hanta's words did nothing but spur you on to wiggling out of your shorts and panties. Deciding to be cheeky you turned your back to them and bent over, making sure to spread your thighs and ass cheeks. You heard a booming growl behind you mix with a choked moan. The next thing you knew was the feeling of hot hands on your hips as you were tossed into the air to land on the bed with a bounce. By the time you adjusted and reopened your eyes Denki was crawling up between your legs with his tongue already hanging out of his mouth. He looked like a lethal predator about to devour his prey without an ounce of mercy. The first contact of his tongue wasn't teasing or tentative, no it was intimidating as his tongue swiped through your folds, the ball of his tongue ring grazing over your clit harshly. Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut from the shock of pleasure flew open when you heard a light buzzing sound. Denki's tongue ring was apparently a vibrating one. Smirking he pulled off his shirt, revealing a toned tight body sporting a six pack. As hot as his muscles were the thing that really got you going and made a gush of liquid dribble out of your hole was the sight of the two belly button rings he had. At the top a little ornament hung in the shape of a storm cloud and at the bottom another one shaped like a lightning bolt pointed toward his golden blonde happy trail. 

"Like what you see spark plug? If you do then take a look at Hanta. I wouldn't be surprised if you came just from taking all that sexy tanned skin in." 

The smirk on his face as he said this made your belly do a crazy little flip. Turning your head you looked over to see that he hadn't been kidding. Hanta was amazingly sexy with clothes on but seeing him now that he had taken his shirt off and stood just out of reach stroking his cock was almost enough to have you cuming, as it was your pussy started to twitch as if trying to find a way to fill itself. Hanta skin was lightly tanned, his nipples were pierced with simple silver bars and his cock oh fuck his cock had two silver bars through the underside just under the head. It was definitely the start of a Jacob's ladder and you were seriously going to ascend if they felt as good as they looked. Hanta stopped stroking his cock as the smirk on his face grew just a little mean. Coming up beside the bed he threaded his hand through Denki's hair and gave a little tug. 

"Denki be a good boy and give our little princesa a good tongue fucking so I can stretch that pussy once it's nice and sloppy."

With a broken whine Denki dove into your pussy like a starving man. His tongue ring caught on the edge of your hole as he slid his tongue inside, the vibration startled a high pitched moan from your throat. You opened your eye's to watch as he continued to eat, suck, and curl his tongue inside of your pussy. Instead you watched, absolutely entranced as Hanta stripped himself of his Jean's and then helped Denki do the same and he refused to take his mouth from your soaked hole. Once they were both naked Hanta spread a bit of lube on his cock before straddling Denki's thighs. While you cried from the sudden orgasm brought on by the sucking and vibrations against your clit, you also watched as he gripped the blonde pussy eaters ass and began to slide his cock through the cheeks, fucking them.

Denki continued to eat you through two more orgasms before you grabbed his hair and came squirting straight into his mouth. The man moaned and drank from you greedily. You guessed that he was happy seeing how he had been denied the cum he was to receive from that earlier face fucking. Seeing that your pussy was now sloppy and pleasantly relaxed Hanta shifted Denki to the side and grabbed your ankles pulling you to him on the bed. Slowly he pushed the head of his thick cock into your still tight hole until it popped in. A sharp gasp was pulled from you as the first of the two bars caught at your rim. Hanta pulled his hips back making it so his cock was just sitting against your opening. Then without warning he slammed forward filing you with more than half of his cock in one go. You screamed, throwing your head back against the pillow as your pussy tried to lock down on the thick cock that was currently splitting you in half. 

"Damn han you're really gonna make her pussy gape huh? Did the little spark plug get your blood boiling by being a brat?"

Denki had moved from beside you to kneel behind Hanta, hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch as he pinched and pulled Hanta's nipples making sure to press against the bars in them as much as possible. As he began to thrust in and out of you trying to work his entire shaft inside he turned his head and kissed the man driving him insane roughly making sure he knew it was a claiming kiss. Not to be out done Denki pulled hard and rolled Hanta's nipples. He gasped and thrust his hips forward bottoming out inside of you. You whined and came at the intense wave of pleasure that washed over you. The drag of warm metal against your walls and the pressure of hard flesh against your cervix had ripped away any control you might have had left. Closing your legs together Hanta shifted them so that both of your ankles rested against his shoulder. He leaned over pressing forward until he could capture your lips in a burning hot kiss. The new angle had you sobbing into the kiss and made your belly shudder. 

Like the little shit he is, Denki reached around and pressed down on your belly where Hanta's cock had made a bulge. Your mouths separated as you both choked on air. The added sensation had flipped a switch and you were now being pounded into the mattress by one of your best friends while the other watched and caressed the both of you. You continued to sob and babble about how full you were and how much you wanted him to cum inside of you. The more you spoke the hard he fucked you, changing angles constantly to drag his bars across every pleasure spot your pussy had. Denki was once again stroking his cock only this time he had taken to playing with his ass as well. Seeing him, seeing Hanta, getting absolutely wrecked by such a huge cock all at once was so overwhelming that you once again came squirting only this time it was all over Hanta's lower stomach and cock. Something about seeing a man's abs covered in your own squirt was way too sexy for you to put into words.

The clenching of your pussy was so strong that it pulled Hanta to orgasm much sooner than he had planned. He came deep inside and continued to cum even as he pulled out. He jerked the last few shots all over your pussy and thighs leaving you as the picture of a well fucked mess. As soon as he moved to the side to catch his breath Denki was there licking up the cum from your thighs and the outside of your pussy. He sat up with his mouth full of cum and kissed you swapping his prize back and forth with you. The kiss was messy and so fucking hot that you felt like you definitely weren't done you. Denki loved nasty sex and he showed you first hand when he thrust his cock inside, bottoming out smoothly due to the cum and how stretched you had been from taking Hanta's cock. Why were your friends cocks so damn big was the only thought in your mind when Denki too reached your cervix. 

"Fuck yes spark plug I love your sloppy pussy so full of Hanta's cum and still covered in your own squirt. I can't wait to add my own cum and eat it out of you. I know all three of us mixed together is gonna taste so good."

He was slamming his cock to the hilt every time and you felt the orgasm build deep inside and slowly swirl in your belly. You were more than into his dirty talk when you had an idea. Using what little energy you had you started to make your pussy walls flutter and massage his cock on every thrust. He went wild pounding fast and hard pushing you both over the edge into bliss. He leaned down, burying his head between your breasts as he added his own cum to the mess inside of you. When he was finally empty he pulled out ready to eat the cum out of your pussy only for Hanta to beat him to it. He scooped out a mouthful of cum and kissed Denki with it swapping it and drooling it out onto their chins. Hanta pulled Denki back by his hair and kissed his throat before gently pushing his head down to your pussy so he could eat his fill. Hand still in his hair he leaned up and kissed you lovingly in between words. 

"Princesa you have no idea how much we've been wanting you. I'm so glad you're such a chica sucia you're so perfect for us it's like you were made to fit us. It's a bit backwards to say this but how about we go on a date for dinner tonight after we get all cleaned up?"

You agreed tiredly making them promise that you could all shower together since you didn't get to touch as much as you were wanting to. He laughed when he realized that you were just as bad as them about spending most of your friendship having dirty little fantasies about them the same as they had been about you. Hanta was leaving claiming hickeys on your neck when you realized that Denki had dozed off with his cheek against your pussy. You giggled as you started to doze yourself happy that when you woke up you would have a nice hot shower with your two best friends that were now your boyfriends. Hanta was snoring quietly into your neck when you finally fell completely asleep. 

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

Anger Issues 🔥(h.h)

Warnings: smut. (Fingering, oral m-receving, unprotected sex, degradation, little bit of Dom!harry) lazertag (idk if that's a warning) swearing.

Word count: 2.6k

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You stood with your back against the wall, you were listening for one voice, one in particular.

“Hell mate, didn't even see ya there,” he laughed.

You raised your gun and jumped out aiming for the sensor on his chest and firing. It took you a few tries, but you managed to hit it at least once powering down his gun.

“Y/N!” Harry groaned as you ran the opposite direction. “We're on the same team you dork,” He yelled.

You jumped behind a large wall, ducking down, so he couldn't find you. You had only agreed to this for one reason, and it was to torment Harry, which seemed to be working flawlessly.

"Y/n," Tom's voice was directly behind you causing you to jump and squeak.

"Thomas," you hissed, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "Can't sneak up on me like that, m'hiding from Baz," you told him, peeking over the wall to see if you could spot him.

"He's on our team y'know," he chuckled.

"Doesn't mean I can't destroy him," you winked at him letting out a giggle before making a run towards another structure. Truth be told, this was all you had wanted when the idea of Laser Tag had been brought up that morning. It brought you pure joy to be a nuisance to Harry, to find his deepest buried nerve and pick at it until he would break. He knew it too, he knew you loved to be the reason he would crack. Harry angry and red hot in the face, that, well it just did something to you, and the way he would choose to take out that anger, whew. You were determined today, to get him to the point of no return, to the point where he had no choice. So as soon as you caught sight of his luscious auburn curls you jumped out, firing the gun and hitting the censor in the middle of his back. "gotcha," you said, sending him a wink.

"Y/n, y/l/n, I swear to fucking god-" he huffed, trudging forward towards you.

"S'not good to swear to God Baz," you teased. He continued towards you until he had you pushed against the wall, the censor vest digging into your back.

"The next time you shoot me, I will make you regret it," he seethed. You nodded quickly, biting your bottom lip. He went to walk away, and right as he did, you fired again, hitting his back censor a second time.

He turned towards you quickly, eyes narrowing, and you could see the red hue of his cheeks even in the dimly lit arena. "Oops," you giggled, dropping your gun and raising your hands in defense.

"You're coming with me," he growled, grabbing your wrist and pulling you behind him towards the exit.

"Oi, what are you doing? We have like 15 minutes left," Tom yelled after you.

"Sorry, you can beat them on your own, right?" You asked, right before Harry tugged you through the door. He pushed you to the wall, standing tall in front of you as he unbuckled your vest, slipping it off your head, and then doing the same with his.

"C'mon," he demanded. The velocity of his voice sent a shiver down your spine as you followed closely.

You were so thankful your hotel room was just a short elevator ride up. You stood silently in the elevator, eyes trained on Harry as he glared daggers at you.

"Could have won, if you hadn't fucked off," he mumbled.

"C'mon Baz, you think I cared about the game?" You asked him, raising your eyebrows in his direction.

The elevator dinged, opening the door to your floor before you were being led to the room the two of you were sharing.

No one knew the things that you and Harry had been taking part in the last few months, honestly you weren't sure what they would think. It had started one night after a bad football game, he was so angry, and it had turned you on beyond belief. You don't remember what exactly happened, but you do remember the second his fingers found their way to your panties you were both done for. Ever since that night, whenever he would get heated, you were there waiting, waiting to take his release, to ease the built up tension, and then after, you were both completely different people. He would clean you up, cuddle with you and send countless praises in your ears.

Was it a dangerous game to be playing? Probably.. Did you ever want it to end? Absolutely not!

Harry opened the door swiftly, pushing you in. "Harry," you giggled as you nearly tripped on one of the suitcases that you had scattered on the floor.

"Oops," he chuckled, steadying you. "Now get into that bed," he instructed.

"Yes sir," you winked before rushing to the bed.

"Why do you have to be such a.." he walked forward grabbing your jaw and turning your face up to him. "a little fucking brat?" He demanded.

You giggled as he outlined your lips with his thumb, pushing it inside your mouth.

If there was one thing that had completely taken you by surprise with Harry, it was how assertive he was in bed. The boy who quite literally seemed like an angel in every aspect of his life, would absolutely wreck you anytime he had the chance. Of course he wouldn't cross any lines you set, but if you gave him the go ahead he would push you until you just couldn't take anymore.

"Gonna be a good girl tonight?" He asked you, a fire burning in his eyes.

"Nope," you mumbled with his thumb still in your mouth.

"Gonna be a little brat?" He asked.

"Mmm," you moaned, sucking on his digit.

"Know what brats get?" He asked you. "Brats don't get all the sweet warming up, no," he pushed you back onto the bed, flipping you to your stomach. "Brats get it straight to the point," he grumbled, practically ripping your leggings from your body and pulling you onto your knees. His fingers quickly found their way to your dripping core, “My good little slut,” he cooed before shoving a finger in with no warning. “Always ready for me,”

You hummed in response as his finger grazed your sweet spot. Harry knew your body like the back of your hand and he knew how to bring you right to the edge, and then quickly back you away. He pulled his finger out of your clenching core, leaving you feeling needy and empty. “Baz,” you groaned.

“What?” He asked you, a cocky smirk on his face. “You thought I was going to let you finish? After tanking the game?” Your mouth dropped open as you were getting ready to say something, but too quickly his hand found its way around your throat squeezing only hard enough to elicit an almost pornographic moan from you. “You drive me fucking crazy,” He growled into your ear. “But you also make my heart skip a beat when i think of those pretty lips around my cock,” you were shocked at the turn he had taken, but

You couldn't lie to yourself, it had you clenching around nothing, wishing for some relief from him. “Put it in my mouth then,” You instructed looking into his soft, warm brown orbs through your dramatically long lashes.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, excitement clear in his voice, “Want me to fuck your face, love?” you couldn't help the moan that left your lips with the use of the pet name, you and harry usually kept things pretty casual, no ‘baby’ or ‘babe’ but specifically no ‘love’. So to hear the name slip past his lips had your heart (and your pussy) wanting more.

“Yes Harry, Please,” You practically begged. He helped you into a sitting position, hand moving from where it had been positioned on your neck to the hem of your shirt quickly stripping you of any clothes that remaned. He followed it up by doing the same, standing fully nude in front of you, cock in his hand as you readied your lips. He took a step towards you as you looked up to see the lust in his eyes as he rubbed his tip on your lips.

"Gonna take it all?" He asked, bringing his hand up to rub his thumb across your cheek. You licked your lips before opening them as he slowly pushed himself into your mouth. You didn't really care for it, a cock in your mouth, but the look on harry's face made you want it, you would do it forever just to see the lust and relief that graced his face with every thrust against your face, the moans that would leave his lips as you would swirl your tongue around his tip when he pulled back, only to push back in with more force, making tears gather in the corner of your eyes. Tears he would wipe away as he whispered how good you were for him, and he would continue his movements until you felt him twitching on your tongue, his cum dripping down your throat, before pulling away, only to wipe your lips of any excess mess that had been made.

"You know your fucking beautiful?" He asked, before bringing his lips down to yours. His lips met yours with a feverish fire, that was almost too much. Any time the two of you would get to this point you would end up feeling upset, because in the grand scheme of things, Harry was it for you, god did you love him, and all of this fooling around wasn't helping any.

Harry's hands found their way to the nape of your neck, before he laid you back and climbed above, lips trailing down your jaw and neck attaching to your nipples as he let his hands wander between your thighs. You wished you could tell him just how badly you wanted him, wanted more. The hookups were nice, perfect, and the aftercare was next level, but you wanted the sleepy cuddly Harry, and The date night Harry.. you wanted every aspect of him.

His fingers teased at your entrance while his thumb drew little circles around your clit. You moaned out his name, finally relieved to be getting some stimulation. "I want to try something different," he mumbled.

"What?" You wondered.

"I want to make love to you," he said shyly. You pulled yourself up to your elbows as you stared shocked at him.

"You- what?"

"We're always going at it like it's the last time, and it's great, but I just want to savor it, savor you, just this once," he explained. You reached out, grabbing him and pulling him up to you as you slammed your lips together.

"Make Love to me then," you mumbled against his lips.

He moved your hands, interlocking your fingers with his before placing them above your head as he kissed you with more passion than you had ever experienced. His tongue flicked against your bottom lip, and you opened letting him in. It was different, and not in a bad way, you had made out with Harry countless times, whether it be in the heat of the moment, a drunk night, or a late night hookup, but this… This felt like more.

"God I love your lips," he whispered as he pulled away from the kiss, reaching down to caress your cheek. The use of the word 'love' leaving you with butterflies in your belly. His hands trailed down your body slowly, as his eyes did the same. "I feel like your body was meant for me," he told you. "The curve of your hips, the way your breasts feel in my hands, how your hair cascades down your back, the way you cling to me while I'm making you mine," he sighed as he looked back up to you. "It's as if someone wrote out the perfect match for me, and they put your name down," he whispered.

You felt tears rush to your eyes, unsure of what he was trying to get at. "Harry," you whispered.

He leaned back down, bringing his face dangerously close to yours, noses touching. You could feel the heat of his breath on your lips, "I want more, I want you," he said before closing the distance.

You were sure you were dreaming. This couldn't be real. He grabbed your hips as he positioned himself between your thighs, not breaking away from your lips. You felt him slowly push into you, bottoming out, before making any other movements. Slow wasn't exactly your thing, sure slow and steady wins the race, but you preferred the fast paced sex that you and Harry usually had, but in that moment, as his lips devoured yours, and his hips met yours gently and slowly, you felt pure Bliss. It wasn't rushed, trying to edge each other on, it wasn't a hidden agenda, just the two of you, lost in each other, lips colliding as you made love.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered in your ear, as he kissed from beneath it to your jaw.

"Harry," you moaned out.

"My beautiful girl," he whispered, "gonna make you feel good, yeah?" He asked as his hand sneaked between your bodies. His fingers gently brushed against your nub, but with how turned on you were, it was enough to send a jolt through your body.

"M'close," you let out.

"I know," he told you, as he quickened his movements. "Me too," he grunted. As soon as you felt him twitch inside of you, you clenched around him, orgasm taking control of your body. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you buried your face in his neck. He continued his movements until you let up, a sigh of relief leave your mouth.

You laid like that, him on top of you, you clutching to him, for a while. Finally he got up, walking towards the bathroom and returning with a damp rag. He sat between your legs as he cleaned you up gently, knowing you were probably sensitive. "Harry," you said quietly.

"Yes love?" He asked, glancing up to you.

"What did you mean? By, you want more?" You asked, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Well," he sighed, climbing up and laying down next to you. "You know how Haz and grace are always, holding hands, sharing food, being ridiculously cute, and making us all want to vomit?" He asked you.

"Mm," you nodded.

"I want that, I want to hold your hand as we walk down the pier to watch the sunset, and I want to order one milkshake with two straws and put a dollop of whip cream on your nose, I want people to look at us together and think we are cute, I want to be the reason they want to vomit," he told you.

You let out a chuckle as you reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together.

"So you want-"

"You to be my girlfriend," he finished.

You couldn't help the smile that creeped onto your face. This was everything that you wanted, and to have him tell you he wanted the same thing? It felt good.

"Alright, on one condition," you said cheekily.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" He asked.

"I want to put the dollop of whip cream on your nose," you giggled. He rolled his eyes before leaning in and capturing your lips with his.

Tag list:

@theglitterymess @violetlilysunshine  

@petesrparker

@harryhollandsgirlfriend

@mcushvft

(if your name is crossed out I couldn't tag you 😭😩)

[kirishimaswife2819]

Second Choice || Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Masterlist

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, and Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Requested by @loxbbg​ : Hiiiii I was wondering if you can do Izuku x reader x Bakugou where izuku loves reader and Uraraka and reader is tired of being his second choice and pulls herself out of the equation only to see Katsuki was the person for her and she explores that years later Deku tries to ask her out since Uraraka left him and Katsuki steps in telling him he can’t manipulate her or something like that thank youuu!!

Summary: Izuku likes both you and Uraraka, but you’re always the second choice, so after removing yourself from the equation, you fall for Bakugou. But years later, Izuku wants you back.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/n: Thanks for requesting! I tried my best to write this, and I hope I did okay. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! -Danielle <3 

“Thanks, Izuku,” you said, smiling, “I had fun tonight.” You and Izuku were standing in front of his house as you pulled his hoodie tighter around your shoulders. The two of you just got back from a walk on the beach, after spending the day in the park.

“Yeah, I had fun too,” Izuku responded, blushing a bit. You noticed the way his eyes looked to your lips, before looking right back up at your eyes, even if it was only for a few seconds.

“Hey Izuku?” You asked, “Can I kiss you?”

“You wanna what!?” He exclaimed, surprised by your sudden statement, causing him to turn red.

“If you don’t want to-”

“I didn’t say that!” He exclaimed quickly, before calming down a bit, “I’m fine with it.” You smiled, and leaned forward, cupping his cheek, before kissing him. When you pulled away, you both had big smiles on your faces.

“I should probably get inside, before my parents kill me for breaking curfew,” you said, smiling, “See you tomorrow, Zuku.”

“See you tomorrow,” Izuku said, smiling and watching as you walked up the steps and into your house.

You walked into class, smiling, excited to see Izuku today after what happened last night. You opened the door and walked in, looking for the familiar green haired boy. Finally, you spotted him, over by Uraraka’s desk, blushing really bad.

“Finally!” Mina exclaimed, “It took you forever!”

“Took who and what forever?” You asked, approaching the small group of people surrounding Uraraka and Izuku.

“For Uraraka to confess to Deku! We’ve been waiting for this forever, and he even said he likes her back,” Mina explained, but she noticed your face fall at her words, “Hey, why do you look so upset?” You ignored her and tried to hold in your tears as Izuku looked at you. His face immediately fell at the look on your face, because you looked like you were seconds away from sobbing. Mina and a few others noticed as well, so Mina spoke again, “Y/n?”

You didn’t say anything, and instead ran out. You heard a few calls of your name, and suddenly you ran straight into somebody.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass!” Bakugou yelled, causing you to look at him with your tear filled eyes. You were now letting the tears flow, not bothering to hold them back. Bakugou was taken back by this, “Woah, hey, what the fuck is wrong? Why are you crying?”

“No reason,” you replied, fake laughing and wiping a tear, “I’m just being dramatic.”

“I don’t feel like playing any games, so just go ahead and tell me,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms.

“It’s dumb, I mean why did I even think he would like me back? It’s not like I’m anything special,” you said.

“What the hell are you talking about? Who doesn’t like you back?” Bakugou asked, furrowing his brows.

“Deku,” you replied, making eye contact with him for the first time since he noticed you were crying.

“I’m going to kill that fucking nerd,” Bakugou said, going to move past you, to which you pushed him back.

“No, wait, it’s fine, don’t do anything to Deku. I’ll be fine,” you said, trying to hold back your sobs so you could say what you needed to say, “Just go to class. Tell Aizawa I’m not feeling well.”

You didn’t wait for a response, and walked past him and continued going back home. That day, you ignored all the worried calls and texts from all your friends, wondering what was wrong, but a particular one caught your eye.

Zuku <3: please, y/n, just meet me on the beach where we were last night, I need to talk to you

With a sigh, you wiped the tears from your face and slipped on one of your own hoodies. You made sure to grab Izuku’s hoodie on your way out, to give back to him.

You left and went towards the beach. When you got there, you saw Izuku was already there waiting, sitting in the sand, playing on his phone. Izuku hadn’t expected you to come, so when you approached him and he heard you, he jumped, before realizing it was you.

“Y/n,” he said, quickly standing up. He noticed your tear stained cheeks, puffy red eyes, and even your messy hair.

“What do you want to say to me?” You asked, trying not to cry again.

“I just wanted to apologize. Look, Y/n, I’m really sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, you’re not,” you replied, raising your voice a little, “If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have kissed me and then admitted to liking Uraraka the next day. You don’t care about me, and it’s obvious that you never have.”

“But I do!” He exclaimed, “I just.. I just like Ochaco more.”

“Of course, you do,” you replied, letting out a fake laugh, “Leave it to dumb old me to assume that anybody could love me more than her.”

“Wait, Y/n, I-”

“Here take your hoodie back,” you said, tossing it into his arms, “I don’t want it.” You turned and went to walk away, but Izuku stopped you, grabbing your shoulder.

“Wait, Y/n.” He tried, but you roughly pushed your shoulder back and forced his hand off of it.

“Goodbye Midoriya,” you said, walking away, leaving Izuku alone on the beach. When you got back to your room, you broke down again, and eventually you cried yourself to sleep.

The next morning, you were awoken by your alarm. Once you rubbed away the sleep from your eyes, you could see that you had so many notifications.

3 missed calls and 4 texts from Ochaco 5 missed calls and 10 texts from Mina

Along with a bunch of other missed calls and texts from other members of the class, but once again, one caught your eye. A text and missed call from somebody who you had never thought would text you unless he absolutely had to.

Bakugou: He’s a fucking idiot, don’t let him get to you

After removing all of the notifications, you got up, wiping your eyes and beginning to get ready for the day. You were aware you looked a wreck as you walked into the classroom but at this point you really didn’t care. You walked in the room, and past Izuku, who had tried speaking with you, to sit at your desk. A few people tried talking to you, but after being ignored, they gave up. Ochaco came up and apologized, and she surprisingly sounded like she was actually sorry, so you accepted her apology and told her to just go and be happy with Izuku.

The rest of the day up until lunch, you attended all your classes, trying your best to avoid Izuku or any of his friends altogether. During lunch, instead of going to sit with Izuku, like you normally did, you went to go sit by yourself somewhere, but a voice stopped you.

“Hey! L/n!” Kirishima yelled, gaining your attention, “Come sit with us!” You gave him a small smile and walked over, sitting in between him and Mina. Sero, Kaminari, and Bakugou were also sitting at the table.

“Thanks,” you said, causing Kirishima to smile.

“No problem,” he replied, and went back to talking with Sero about something. You spent the rest of lunch with them, only really talking when one of them asked you a question, or said something to you. Bakugou was the one who spoke with you the most, and every time he did, you thought back to the message he sent you.

Finally, lunch was over, but Kirishima stopped you before you got up and left, to ask a question.

“Do you want to hang out with us after school? We’re going to the arcade,” Kirishima said, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“I don’t know,” you replied.

“Oh, well, we’re going to be there at like four, so if you’re coming, just text me so we can wait for you,” Kirishima explained, and you nodded. 

“Okay, I might come. Thanks,” you said, giving him a small smile, before walking past him and to your next class. After the day was over, you went home and looked to the clock. You had managed to avoid Izuku for the rest of the day, despite him trying to speak with you multiple times. You continued to look at the clock, thinking about if you wanted to meet up with Kirishima and his friends at the arcade or not. You weren’t in the best mood, but it might take your mind off of things.

So, you took out your phone and sent him a quick text, letting him know that you were going to be coming. Then, you changed out of your uniform and into something more comfortable. You looked in the mirror and tried to look a little more presentable than you did throughout the school day. Eventually, you grabbed some money, and your phone, before leaving the house and making your way to the arcade. 

When you got there, you opened the door, and entered. You looked around for a moment, before spotting Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina standing a little ways away from the entrance, talking.

“Hey guys,” you said, approaching them.

“Hey Y/n,” Mina said, smiling at you. She still kind of felt bad for being the one to break the news to you yesterday, even though she didn’t do anything wrong.

“Alright, what are we doing first?” Kirishima asked, looking around at all his friends. They each said something different, so Kirishima turned to you, “What do you wanna do?”

“I really don’t care,” you said, with a shrug.

“Why don’t you go with Bakugou?” Kirishima asked, gesturing to the blonde, who was standing off to the side, crossing his arms and leaning up against the wall.

“Sure,” you said, as Bakugou stood straight up, uncrossing his arms.

“Come on, dumbass,” Bakugou said, making you follow him towards whatever game he wanted to play. You two spent a couple hours playing different games, before you all met back up in front of the arcade. Kirishima had to go home and eat dinner, and so did Mina and Kaminari, leaving you and Bakugou all alone.

“Well, I should probably-”

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Bakugou asked, startling you.

“W-what?”

“Are you deaf? I asked if you wanted to get something to eat,” Bakugou repeated.

“Oh, uh, I guess, if you want to,” you said.

“Alright, let’s go,” Bakugou said, forcing you to follow him towards a pretty popular fast food restaurant in town. You two got in line and ordered at the counter, before sitting down at a table and waiting for your order number to be called.

“Why did you ask me to get food with you?” You asked, looking around.

“What? Am I not allowed to want to eat food with you?” Bakugou asked.

“Well, no, I mean, you are, but why just me? You didn’t offer for any of the others to get dinner with you, so why me?” You asked.

“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I like you, a lot. And I wanted to tell you.”

“You,” you said, trying to process it, “Like me?”

“Don’t make me say it twice,” he replied, crossing his arms.

“Oh,” you said, “I-”

“You don’t have to answer right away,” Bakugou said, “I know you’re upset because that damn nerd broke your heart, but once you get over him, maybe we can work something out.”

“Maybe,” you replied, giving him a small smile.

It had been a whole five years since that occurred. Katsuki and you started dating a few months after he confessed, and you had been happy ever since. You two were now engaged, and you couldn’t be happier. Everything was going perfect, until you heard a knock on the door and you opened it to be met with a certain green haired, pro hero, Deku.

“Deku,” you said, “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” he said, giving you a small smile, “Can I come in? I wanted to speak with you about something.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you said, moving aside and allowing him to come in, “Come on, we can sit in the living room.” Izuku nodded, and followed you into the room, where he sat down on the couch.

“What kind of-” Bakugou cut himself off, as he stepped into the room. He had a different type of seasoning in each hand, “Deku.”

“Hey Kacchan, what are you doing here?” Izuku asked, causing you and Bakugou to give each other a look. How did Izuku not know that you two were together? Literally, everybody knew. Bakugou was about to tell him, but you spoke to him.

“Both,” you said, referring to the bottles of seasoning in his hands. Bakugou decided to leave you and Izuku alone, but he gave the hero one last glare for good measure, before stepping back into the kitchen.

“Alright, now, what did you need?” You asked, giving Izuku a small smile. You had managed to avoid him for the rest of your time at U.A., and even as a pro hero you managed to not have to work with him, so you were wondering what he was doing here when you made it clear that you never wanted to see him again.

“I’ve really missed you,” Izuku said, catching you by surprise. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say but it definitely wasn’t that.

“Uh, I guess I’ve missed you too,” you replied, even though it wasn’t really true. Sure, you missed him in the first few months since you had stopped talking to him, but after that, you barely even thought about him.

“Look, Y/n, I sort of regret what happened when we were at U.A. You know, when I confessed to Uraraka after we kissed. And I want to know if you wanna try again,” Izuku explained.

“You mean try again as in, be friends, right?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t suggesting what you thought he was.

“No, I mean in a romantic way,” Izuku said.

“If you really think she’s going to say yes, then you’re dumber than you look,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms.

“Kacchan, this is a private-”

“It stopped being private the second you tried to get my fiance to give you a second chance,” Bakugou said, “And don’t tell me you didn’t know, because literally everybody knows. Now, you have about one minute to get the hell out of my house before I blow your ass up.”

“I’m not leaving. What makes you think she likes you more than she likes me?” Izuku asked, crossing his arms.

“Are you fucking serious? You actually think that she still likes you after what you did to her?” Bakugou asked, “You know, I-”

“Wait,” you said, causing both men to stop glaring at each other and look at you, “Katsuki’s right, Izuku. I stopped liking you after you did that to me, and I’m not going to start liking you again.”

“But, I-”

“No, you’ve said what you needed to say, get out,” you said, standing up, “Now.”

“Y/n, wait-”

“Are you fucking deaf? She said to get the fuck out!” Bakugou yelled.

“Fine,” Izuku said, standing up and walking out. You and Katsuki followed him and watched as he opened the front door and stepped out. He looked at you with teary eyes, and he almost said something but you interrupted him.

“Goodbye Midoriya,” you said, slamming the door in his face, and then turning to Katsuki, who looked the most pissed you’ve ever seen him, “Well, that was a fun activity for a Saturday night.”

“No, it was not,” Katsuki replied, “Are you good?”

“Why wouldn’t I be good?” You asked.

“Just checking,” he replied, “You used to like Deku, just making sure you’re alright.”

“I stopped liking him five years ago,” you replied, “Trust me, I’m over him.”

“You better be,” Katsuki replied, causing you to give him a kiss.

“I am, now, do you want help with dinner?” You asked, causing Katsuki’s eyes to go wide.

“Shit,” he said, rushing over to the kitchen, “Great, it fucking burnt. All because of that damn nerd.”

“Calm down, we’ll just get take out. How about pizza?” You asked, picking up your phone, and going through your contacts.

“Sure,” Bakugou replied, throwing out the burnt food, before going back to the living room and sitting on the couch. You joined him after ordering the food. You cuddled into his side as he turned the T.V. on.

“I love you,” you said.

“More than Deku?” Katsuki asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“Yes, Katsuki, more than Deku.”

[thirsty-flygirl]

Touch Me

Formerly The Textile Series

A Javier Peña x f! Reader Romance

Rating: Explicit - language, sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll. You know the drill, no one under 18 allowed.

Word Count: 2168

A/N: Look, it’s no secret that I would let Javi absolutely ruin me so here is The Textile Series, back again with a few changes, so I can simp some more over my favorite DEA agent.

******

Part IV: Leather

You slammed the shot glass down, proudly popping the lemon between your salt-swollen lips. Tequila always tasted good and, with one of Escobar’s most notorious sicarios now in US custody, it tasted even better.

“C’mon, Javi, take a shot with me,” you shouted across Murphy to your other partner, who offered you his signature smirk, the corner of his lips lifting as he regarded you. Steve placed a palm against your face and playfully pushed you back, grimacing.

“Christ, woman, you’re gonna make me go deaf,” he complained. You poked a finger into his ribs, gleefully watching as he doubled over. “Ah! No tickling, that’s not playing fair and you know it.” He clambered off the barstool and pointed to the now-empty seat. “Sit. That way you don’t have to scream at Javi.”

You shuffled about and made yourself comfortable on the stool, offering Javier a grin. His smirk shifted into a full-blown smile, that sweet little dimple popping, and your stomach flipped at the sight. Your feelings for Javier were getting out of control, strengthening each day you spent together. You’d nearly kissed him right there at the President’s ball last night, in front of your superiors, not giving a second thought to the damage it could affect on your career. You had worked hard, damn hard, to get where you are, despite the sexism and harassment you’d received because you were a woman. Hell, Steve and Javier were two of only a few men you could think of that didn’t treat you like your only worth was between your legs.

But there you were, hunting down Colombia’s most notorious drug lord, and all could do was simper like a teenager every time Javi smiled.

“You’re drunk,” Javi offered, shifting in his seat to lean on the bar next to you. His elbow brushed against yours, leaving your skin tingling from where your bare skin met. As usual, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, leaving his chest on display. Your eyes roved over his form hungrily, slipping down to see the smattering of dark hair on his chest, before settling on his gorgeous face.

Up close, Javier was disarmingly beautiful. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he leaned into you, eyes searching yours as though they could see every secret etched on your heart. A smattering of freckles dotted his face, barely visible, but you had stared so long and so hard at him that you had every perfect imperfection memorized. His hand wrapped loosely around his tumbler of whiskey and you couldn’t help but imagine that hand wrapped around yours, tethering you to him as you finally gave into your desires.

“I’m not,” you finally managed, finding yourself inching closer to him, a coil of desperate need beginning to unfurl within you. Taking his glass, you let your fingers brush against his, watching his pupils dilate. You took a sip of the biting liquor, letting it trail a path of fire down your throat. “I’m just feeling good.”

Javi reached up to wipe a drop of whiskey from your lips with his thumb, raising an eyebrow. “Feeling good, hmm? And why’s that?”

You let out a soft whimper at his touch, just loud enough for Javier to feel the vibration on your skin. His eyes darkened and he let out a deep sigh. “You’re gonna get me in fucking trouble one of these days.”

The two of you sat staring stupidly at each other, as though you were the only two people in the crowded bar. Heart pounding and cunt throbbing, you let your fingers settle on his thigh, trailing them toward the seam of his jeans and so close to the place you felt pressed against you last night.

You leaned forward and closed the distance, whispering in your partner’s ear “I heard you like—”

“—Okay, it’s time to go,” Steve thrust his arm between the two of you, setting his empty beer bottle on the worn, wood bar with a loud thump. You and Javi sprung apart like kids caught necking, a wave of embarrassment crashing over you along with the realization that you had been so wrapped up in Javier that you’d forgotten you were in public.

Javi pulled back like he’d been punched, the naked desire written on his face shifting back into a closed, unaffected expression. Nodding at Steve, he avoided your eyes and stood.

“Yeah, it’s late.”

Your stomach lurched at the speed with which Javi could turn off any sign of being interested in you. It was like hot and cold with him, and you were starting to wonder if he even thought of you as more than a potential fuck. You weren’t blind; you knew exactly how your partner managed to get such reliable intel. It wasn’t like you could fault him - you had no claim on him and you knew he was just trying to get one step ahead of Escobar. But the thought of his body bringing another woman the kind of pleasure that you could only imagine, while you lay in your bed at night writhing on your fingers? That was enough to send a wave of jealousy surging through your veins.

You clambered off the stool, leading the way to the door in silence. If Javi wasn’t affected by you, well, you could at least act as if you felt the same. You emerged from the warm bar into the cool night air sweeping over your heated skin like a balm. You continued walking down the street toward the Embassy apartments; the bar wasn’t far from where all of you lived and, while Steve had driven over after work, you wanted to clear your head a bit. Decidedly ignoring their calls to “get in the damn car” (Javi’s words, not yours), you managed to get nearly a block before a hand closed over your elbow.

“What the hell are you doing?” Javi demanded, his dark eyes flicking around to the dark, run-down buildings surrounding you. As much as you wanted to fall into his arms, you pulled away and continued meandering down the street toward your apartment.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you called back flippantly, “I’m walking home!”

Javi groaned in a mixture of exasperation and defeat, jogging a few steps to catch up to you. “Not alone, you aren’t,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Here, at least take my jacket,” he ordered, shrugging off his worn, leather coat and placing it around your chilled shoulders. He sighed loudly as you continued walking, calling after you. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

You spun around in a circle with your arms out, laughing into the night. “I’m a pain in YOUR ass? Javier Peña, you are, without a doubt, the most confusing, irritating man I’ve ever met!” You continued down the street shaking your head and laughing into the night while you continued your rant.

"What I don't understand," you threw over your shoulder in his direction, "is how you can just change direction and act like we don't have anything here. . . like you weren’t about five seconds from fucking me right there in the bar. . . .” Trailing off, you felt the fight leave you. Exhaustion crept through you in its place, and all you wanted now was to get home and sleep your buzz off.

“Hell, maybe I’m just imagining things,” you mumbled tiredly.

You heard Javi's steps come up beside yours, somehow felt his warmth even from feet away. You hated the feeling of tears building in your eyes. The last thing you wanted was to be an emotional wreck in the face of Javi's aloofness. His warm hand closed around your elbow once again, but this time you let him pull you back.

“You think this is just some goddamn game to me?” Javier whispered fiercely, tugging your arm so that you fell forward against him. His free arm curled around your waist, holding you in an approximation of the exact position you had been in while dancing last night.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he gritted out, those deep, brown eyes glittering with fire. Javi brought his hand up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place while he continued, and all you could do was stand there, transfixed by his words and the sheer emotion behind them. “You think it’s easy for me to stay away? To act like I’m not thinking about you every goddamn minute of the day?" He shook his head with a defeated expression.

“All I want is to have you,” he continued, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just under your ear. He paused and your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for the moment when you would finally feel his lips on yours.

Without warning, he released you, leaving you cold and wanting as your eyes flew open. Looking at his face, you saw pain etched in every line, agony reflecting in his eyes.

“But I can’t give you what you want.”

He turned away, looking down the street, jaw clenched. You felt tears prick your eyes, frustrated with his words. “Javi,” you began, reaching out, “You’re what I want, I don’t need—”

“No,” he insisted, refusing to meet your eyes. “I need to catch Escobar, that’s the only thing that matters. I’ve been so distracted and I—” He broke off, his hand coming up to massage at his neck in a gesture so familiar it hurt. He dropped his head with a frustrated sigh and gently pushed at your shoulder.

“Come on, we need to get home.”

You let Javier walk a few steps ahead of you, mind spinning and heart squeezing painfully in your chest. You had felt so warm in his arms, so alive, like every one of your nerve endings buzzed when you were pressed against his body. Now, even with the worn leather of Javi’s jacket pulled around you, you felt chilled, lonely, incomplete.

Down deep, you knew Javier Peña was a selfless man. He wanted to do good, be good, but always felt like he was falling short. He had one mission in Colombia: to capture Pablo Escobar. Anything beyond that was unnecessary, a distraction; something you understood well.

But your heart was selfish - you wanted both. To find Escobar and have him extradited and locked up with a maximum sentence, definitely. But on those lonely nights and the moments in-between when you could imagine something other than the gritty underworld of Colombian drug trafficking, you wanted Javier. Wanted his arms around you, his mouth against yours. You wanted to trace the lines of his neck with your tongue, wanted to run your hands down his torso, then lower, lower, until you breathlessly gripped him and slid down, finally finding home in the middle of the madness.

At an impasse and emotionally drained, you stayed silent for the remainder of your walk, watching Javi turn his key in the security door and shuffling in behind him. You began up the stairs, the feeling of Javier’s gaze burning through you, before you remembered the coat curled around your body.

“Oh, I forgot,” you mumbled, moving to the bottom step while shrugging the garment off. You held it out to Javier, keeping your eyes on the floor, silently begging him to just take it so you could lock yourself in your apartment and break down in private.

“Keep it,” Javi replied, the gravel in his voice still sending a thrill of arousal through your body despite the fact that you felt like he was slipping away from you. "Something to remember me by when we get out of this shithole."

You smiled sadly, reaching out to place a hand gently against his chest, your palm settled over the steady beat of his heart.

Javier stared at you, the longing in his eyes so tangible you couldn't stop the tears from falling. He gently swiped them from your cheeks, a sad smile on his lips.

"Don't cry over me, Sweetheart. I'm not worth your tears."

He leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your cheek, letting his full lips linger for a moment before taking a step back, the inches between you feeling like an impassable chasm. You stood silently, afraid that the tenuous grip you held on your emotions would break if you tried to speak. Javier turned and entered his apartment, never giving you a backwards glance, and you were left standing on the stairs alone.

With no reason to hold back you let your tears fall, your knees giving way as you sat down hard on the dirty step beneath you. You buried your face in the bundle of soft leather you held, weeping over a love you never had in the first place. Eventually, once your sobs calmed, you made your way up the stairs to your apartment and fell into bed exhausted, still clutching Javier’s jacket in your arms.

[fruitcoops]

LOOPS RAILING CAP IN THE SHOWER - cause we all know he deserves it after a game

Not exactly after a game, but still some fun and frisky locker room shower times. Coops (and James) credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut, being sort-of walked in on (only after everything is said and done), cramping muscles

“Hurry up,” Sirius hissed as he teetered on one foot and accidentally dipped the toe of his sock into the water pooling beneath him.

“I’m trying!” Remus whispered back, still elbows-deep in his duffel bag. His face lit up and he rocked back on his heels with a small container.

“Absolutely not,” Sirius said immediately.

“It’s all I have!”

“Mon dieu,” he muttered, yanking his other sock off and kneeling by his own bag. “There is no universe in which that bullshit is going up my ass.”

“It’s Vaseline, baby, not battery acid.”

Sirius turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “It’s sticky, it’s slimy, and it’s cold as shit. You hate it, too!”

“Fair point.”

With a quiet, triumphant ‘ha!’, Sirius emerged with a small tube of clear aloe gel. “Who’s the Boy Scout now, sweetheart?”

“You’re the Boy Scout,” Remus grumbled, wincing as he stood and his knees crackled. “Alright, scoot, we don’t have a ton of time.”

“Oh, baby, talk dirty to me,” Sirius deadpanned.

Remus made a face to hide his smile. “Shut up, you.”

He peeked around the edge of the shower stall once more before backing up against the wall, then stifled a shout at the cold tile between his shoulder blades. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“We do have a perfectly good shower at home.” Despite his words, Sirius could see the gleam of excitement in Remus’ eye as he was beckoned forward. The idea of maybe possibly maybe getting caught was a bit embarrassing if he thought about it too long, but it still sent a thrill through every nerve. That may have just been the feeling of Remus’ warmth on his front mixing with the chill on his back, though.

“Do you—” Sirius cut himself off with one more heated kiss, sliding a hand down Remus’ neck and laughing slightly at the squeak of his wet skin. “I wanna see you. Can you hold me up?”

Remus hummed, then pulled back with a thoughtful look. “Not before stretching. Sorry.”

“Pas de problem, mon coeur.” Sirius uncapped the aloe and handed it to Remus, using the side wall of the stall as a brace to hold himself up. He prayed his own tired muscles would do the job and not send them both tumbling to the floor in a heap of horniness.

“Here, let me…” Remus bit his lower lip and looped an arm under Sirius’ knee, lifting his leg around his waist. “Will that cramp?”

“Nah.”

He looked skeptical, but didn’t protest as he slicked his fingers and ran them down Sirius’ cleft. The water had finally started warming up to a more comfortable temperature; Sirius closed his eyes with a sigh and soaked in the feeling, letting the familiar tingles wash over him while Remus dragged his teeth along the side of his neck and the pad of his first finger slid in.

“You have magic fingers,” he murmured, gasping when cold air hit his pulse point. Whoever created aloe gel, I owe you a fruit basket.

He could feel Remus’ smile as his hitched-up thigh started trembling. “Merci.”

A door slammed down the hall and they both jerked in surprise—the digit rubbing gently around his outer muscle slipped very deep inside on very short notice and Sirius’ yelp was quickly muffled by Remus’ palm. “Fucking Christ,” he wheezed, torn between moaning in contentment and shrieking like a little girl at the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry, sorry, it was an accident.” Remus kissed his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“All good.”

“Will this be enough?"

“Considering we have—” Sirius did some awkward gymnastics to spot the wall clock. “—shit, just under an hour until the guys should start showing up, it’ll have to be.”

Remus chewed on the inside of his lip and glanced at the aloe. “I don’t know…”

“Hey.” Sirius cupped his face and kissed him. “This isn’t my first horse show.”

“Rodeo.”

“Same thing.” Remus’ lips twitched upwards and warmth spread all the way down to his toes, not just from the showerhead still spraying them like a firehose. “Besides, God knows you stretched me well enough last night.”

His concern turned to smugness and he crooked his finger slightly. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Bastard.”

The playful insult came out a little breathy as Sirius leaned his head back against the wall, losing himself to Remus’ practiced movements and damp, smooth skin touching him everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Something blunt and quite a bit slicker nudged his entrance after a moment—after a slow exhale on Remus’ part and a whine from Sirius, he was in to the hilt with all ten fingers gripping Sirius’ hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Sirius was rather winded for reasons he couldn’t spare the braincells to name, and Remus laughed under his breath as he began to move. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shh.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you can.”

“I don’t want to,” Sirius corrected, rocking his hips to match Remus’ thrusts. His fingers began to get sore from holding the stall so tight, but heat was building in his gut and he was hard enough to almost hurt in the best way. “God, there.”

“Not god, just me.”

He flicked his arm with a teasing grin. “Smartass. This is exciting.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus caught him by the thigh as his other knee buckled after a particularly nice angle. “Can’t hold you, can’t hold you, baby—”

“Got it,” Sirius managed, propping himself up again. A clunky door echoed in a faraway corridor and he heard Remus’ breath catch. “Keep going.”

“Someone’s gonna hear.”

“So?” He quirked an eyebrow and wrapped his free arm around Remus’ upper chest, drawing him even closer for a kiss that was more tongue than lips. “That’s the whole point, right?”

“The point—” Remus punctuated his words with a harder thrust that left Sirius’ scrabbling for grip on the wet tiles with a shaky sound. “—is that we could get caught. We could get caught, and then everyone would see how whiny, and needy, and lovely you are while you’re begging for me.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius practically whimpered. He swallowed hard and wrapped his leg tighter around Remus’ waist.

The water was starting to lose some of its heat, but he was dizzy with lust, and pure pleasure dripped like wildfire through his veins. “Actually, I think they already know,” Remus murmured into the hollow of his throat, leaving a light bite there. “Our friends don’t need to find us fucking in the showers, do they? They just need to take one look at you and they’ll know that as soon as I get you between the sheets, you’re a wreck.”

Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut; he couldn’t seem to close his mouth anymore, nor could he muffle the short, guttural sounds slipping out with every quick movement. His left leg was completely numb; it was a miracle it hadn’t given out yet.

“But no,” Remus continued, hoisting him back up into the proper place with a huff. “No, we just have to be that couple that sneaks into the locker room an hour before call time because we just love to tempt fate.”

“This was—your idea—too,” Sirius panted.

“Yeah, because I can’t keep my hands off you.”

He melted into Remus’ palms as they ran along his ribs and back, then down to his ass to give it a firm squeeze. “Close?” he asked, half-slurred.

“Not as close as you.”

His free leg tried to buckle again as Remus stroked along his shaft, but he forced it to stay steady and settled for gritting his teeth around a loud moan that would surely give them away. Remus smiled and upped the pace, but kept his hips moving at the exact same speed. The contrast made Sirius’ head spin. “Please, please, please, please—”

Teeth sank into the junction of his shoulder and all the air fled his lungs. “What else do you want, baby?”

“I don’t know.” It came out far needier than he intended, but who cared? Stars were already popping at the corners of his vision, and he couldn’t even feel the lukewarm water very much anymore.

“Come.”

“I c—”

“Now.”

Sirius took one shallow breath, two, and then shuddered apart, leaning all his weight into the tiles while Remus pulled out and came on his inner thigh. Through his hazy vision, he saw they still had about forty minutes until any of the others would show up. “Love you. Oh, fuck yeah,” he sighed.

Remus made a questioning noise against his collarbone; Sirius felt his heartbeat pounding under his hand.

“We’ve got time to spare.”

“Thank god,” Remus said with a breathless laugh. “I don’t actually want anyone to catch us.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Sirius agreed. “I think I’d rather—”

“Sup, Mad-Eye?”

Both of them froze in place as a cheerful voice rang out down the hallway. Sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floors, drawing closer every second. Sirius had gone ice cold, but he didn’t think it was just the shower’s fault.

“Go, go, go!” Remus hissed, yanking away.

Unfortunately, Sirius’ thigh decided that was the perfect moment to cramp so hard it made his vision go white for a second. As soon as his foot touched the ground, his whole hamstring seized, and he doubled over with a strained “motherfucker!”

“Get up!”

“I can’t!”

James’ footsteps were getting louder. Sirius cursed under his breath and limped after Remus into the shitty little janitor’s closet in the corner, wedging himself next to a mop as he bit down on his knuckles to stifle the pained groans building in his throat. Remus shot him an apologetic look and squeezed his hand in sympathy.

The closet was not meant for much more than a handful of emergency cleaning supplies, let alone two mid-season-muscled hockey players. They were pressed chest-to-chest, holding their breath as doom approached.

Well, not doom. Just utter, world-ending humiliation. Not the kinky kind, either.

James whistled to himself as he neared the locker room—two seconds after Sirius buried his face in the side of Remus’ neck to breathe through the agony in his leg, the door slammed open and his best friend began clattering around.

All of a sudden, the room fell silent. Shit.

“Hello?” James called, sounding much too amused for his own good. “Anyone in here?”

Sirius’ pulse hammered in his ears.

“Huh. Looks like somebody left the shower on,” James said with a dramatic gasp. “And what’s this? Two whole duffel bags?”

Fuck, Remus mouthed as Sirius straightened up with a wince.

James started laughing. Deep, deep in his soul, Sirius knew he had spotted the aloe. The squeaking stopped just outside the closet. “Good morning,” James singsonged, though he didn’t open the door.

Remus opened his mouth, resigned, but Sirius jabbed him in the chest with his pointer finger and shot him a warning look. They weren’t going to engage in conversation while naked and crammed in a janitor’s closet. Especially not when James Potter was on the other side.

“I think it’s a little early for all this, but I could be wrong.” He could almost see James shrugging through the thick wood. “I suppose you’ve gotta take what free time you have. Cap, your showers are a lot nicer than these, though. At least they stay warm for more than a few minutes.”

Remus thudded his forehead against Sirius’ sternum.

“Alright, alright,” James said after a moment of quiet. “If anyone were to perhaps be hiding after getting off in the shitty team showers at seven in the morning—at least, I hope you got off—they should feel free to come out of the closet in a much more literal sense because I am leaving. And I will be out of the locker room for five minutes. Once again, that is five minutes, and then I will be back in here to get ready for my job like a responsible adult.”

The door opened and closed again with a click. They both waited with bated breath.

“Ugh, fine,” James groaned. The hinges creaked, his footsteps faded, and there was a loud slam as it shut for real.

“I’m going to kill him,” Sirius said as they shuffled out of the closet, knocking over several spray bottles in the process. “Really, I will.”

“I’ll help you bury the body,” Remus said wearily as he tossed the aloe back in his bag with a sigh. “That was horrific. Think we can sneak out and back in without him noticing?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the door. “The son of a bitch will be waiting for us. It’s better to just accept our fate and let him have this.”

“We’re putting shaving cream in his gloves after this, right?”

“Actually, I think Vaseline would be better.”

[thesolferino]

⤷ note: apologies for losing your request, anon, but thank you for requesting! this is my first time writing a full fic in second person, so bear with me, and i hope this is what you were looking for <3

The Great American Bake Off

pairing: corpse husband x gn!reader

word count: 3.6k

genre: fluff

summary: you’ve been jealous of rae and her closeness with your boyfriend since the dawn of time, but things change and friendships are made once she comes over for one hell of a cooking video.

Corpse, among many other things, was a man many wished to have.

It’s the truth; even if he didn’t have a YouTube channel through which millions kept up with everything from horror stories to Among Us gameplays, people would still turn heads and whisper whenever he spoke - that attention more than multiplied when he started blowing up and his social media presence grew.

With growth come numbers, and there are always people behind said numbers. Through them, Corpse makes wonderful friends - through them, you had met him, too. All the way back, during his horror narration days, you had grown to like him - really, who wouldn’t?

A DM you once sent after a few drinks, when you claimed to your friends you’d get the “deep-voiced man of your dreams” you often talked about and they, in turn, challenged you to message him, was nothing short of a joke and the idea of him responding was merely a pipe dream. What you hadn’t expected, however, was a response, which wrecked your brain at noon the next day, where your head throbbed with embarrassment, guilt, pride, happiness, a melt of hatred and gratefulness for your friends, panic and the remains of alcohol that tugged at every part of your skull.

It had turned out to be more than a great idea, though, because for the next few weeks you were constantly talking. You learned so much more than he let on in videos, and during late night calls you found out everything from his favorite clothing brand to his favorite color to his thoughts about his own mortality and then back to his favorite cereal. Audio calls and short voice messages turned into hours long FaceTimes that led you from friends to something more. And after a year or so of dating, you packed your bags and made it to sunny San Diego, ready to lay in his arms and sweat bullets.

Safe to say Corpse’s social media presence had its good sides. However, with all good things come bad things too, and you weren’t sure if the bad things were bad at all or you were simply too jealous.

Corpse made wonderful friends thanks to his YouTube channel. He met people he could confide in, meet, people he could talk to about his worst problems, people who would listen - he met people he could have fun with, with who he could forget all about the real world and his own issues, and simply laugh his heart away, play games until the late hours of the night.

If he had to name his closest ones, they would have to be Dave, Loey, maybe Mykie, possibly Jack, and Rae. And that is exactly where the root of the problem stood.

Rae is beautiful, and everyone who denies it must be either dumb or blind. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and funny, and kind, and smart, in a way that made you want to rip your hair out. You wanted to hate her so bad, because the jealousy ate away at you like a damn disease, but you couldn’t, because she was perfect Rae, and as much as you hated the fact she seemed to be perfect inside out, you just couldn’t hate her as her. It was impossible, you concluded.

You convinced yourself you weren’t jealous every time you heard him yelling or laughing at her from his office room - or at least you attempted to do so. Your lunch would turn sour and end up forgotten because you’d be way too focused on listening in on what he was doing and trying to make out what she was saying to even eat at the same pace you previously were. Jealousy ate away at you, no matter if you admitted it to yourself or not.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Corpse, of course. On one late night when you couldn’t sleep and neither could he, as per usual, you turned on a random comedy that you half-heartedly paid attention to, his fingers combing through the knots in your hair peacefully and the slow pace of the movie lulling you to sleep slowly. That is, before his phone rang and lit the mostly dark room. You managed to sneak a glance at the notification before he had, and the familiar bitterness seeped between your ribs as always upon seeing the name displayed at the top of the message, more than awake now.

You visibly stiffened when he laughed at the message and typed something back, shifting your head in his lap as some subconscious attempt at getting him to pay attention to you instead. He put his phone down and you huffed, eyes locked on the TV screen as you pretended to be extremely absorbed in the movie even though you weren’t quite sure of the difference between the protagonist and antagonist anymore. His hands didn’t return to your hair, and that somehow made you even more annoyed.

“What’s up?” Corpse quietly spoke up, barely over the volume over the already quiet movie.

“Nothing.” You said, quicker than you wanted to, and you bit your tongue in cringe when you realised it was an awful lie. Corpse seemed to think the same.

“That’s bullshit. Seriously, what’s wrong?” He asked, and was met with pure silence. In reality, you were hoping he’d simply never realise you were somewhat jealous, because you knew you were being stupid and unreasonable, but you couldn’t help wanting him all to yourself. Admitting it out loud made it so much more real, and so much more embarrassing that you would rather bury yourself alive than admit to being jealous of Rae, of all people.

After a few seconds of silence, save the laughter of characters on screen, he spoke again.

“Are you jealous?” The hint of a teasing tone in his voice made you want to rip your hair out of your skull. Was it really that damn hard to believe that yes, you were jealous of an extremely close friend of his? Was it a crime?

The clenching of your jaw seemed to give Corpse enough of a response, and his hands returned to running themselves through your hair as he giggled to himself. 

“What’s so damn funny?” You borderline spat, causing his movements to halt for a second before continuing with even louder laughter.

“I don’t know, just the idea of you being jealous of Rae is so funny. I’ve noticed the way you roll your eyes whenever I text her in front of you. You’re not exactly sneaky, you know?” His words made blood rush straight to your face, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. How long has he known this for?

“Sorry. I don’t…” you exhaled and attempted to smile. “I don’t know what’s up with me. I’m so jealous nowadays. I don’t even know why.”

“There’s enough of me to share with everyone, no worries baby.” he replied, teasing tone still yet to dissipate as you slap his knee in mock offense and he starts wheezing.

“Absolutely not! Fucking excuse you, I’m not sharing with anyone!” you gaped at him as he kept laughing.

That was the end of it - or at least Corpse thought so. Needless to say, he was wrong.

Your mood would instantly turn sour whenever he’d laugh at one of her messages, and you attempted to push down every eye roll whenever he’d sit on his phone, between your legs, back turned to you so you could see everything, and open Rae’s DMs again. Sometimes you managed, sometimes you couldn’t help it, but you did your best to do it whenever he wasn’t looking. Because you truly knew you were being unreasonable, especially whenever you have to relay situations like how he had to postpone a date one time because Rae asked him to play Rust for a bit longer and you almost ripped all your hair out of your skull in frustration back to your best friend who just turned Rae and Corpse into the villains in the situation because that’s what best friends are supposed to do.

Not like he was going out of his way to talk to her a concerning amount, they mostly talked in groupchats and on streams and that was only a few times weekly, but it did absolutely nothing to calm the green monster growing stronger in you every day, fed by every laugh she got out of him.

The green monster fucking loved it when Corpse excitedly announced to you that he’s finally meeting his friends for the first time, and by friends meaning Rae, Sykkuno and Karl. You, however… were far from impressed.

He paced around the room in excitement, a mix of obvious anxiety and joy evident on his face, and he fiddled with the strings of his hoodie with shaky hands as he very proudly announced that he would be the second tallest person in the room through a blinding, pearly grin, and seeing him so electrified couldn’t help but make you shut your jealous thoughts up, even if just for a little bit, and mirror his grin back to him.

What did, however, make you as anxious as him was when he announced they’d a) be coming to your shared apartment and b) making a cooking video - it sent you into a panicked mom mode as you dusted every corner of every room and vacuumed everything from the kitchen to the balcony and Corpse did nothing but record you as you anxiously rambled and laugh at you from his place on your bed.

When the dreaded Saturday finally came, and the first person to arrive, Sykkuno, rang your doorbell, you squeezed Corpse’s hand to stop him from nervously toying with his rings and opened the door, and you greeted the man like he was your own brother and not a person you’d seen probably a total of three times through the computer screen and someone who’s seen you maybe two times, from the pictures Corpse sent him, in your best attempt to make both of them more comfortable. It actually kind of worked - turns out Sykkuno is a pretty affectionate guy, too, and a conversation started as soon as he stepped in. Corpse gave you a look when you pulled away from Sykkuno’s half-hug, and you almost laughed out loud at the irony when his phone lit up with a notification from Rae announcing she was almost there at that exact moment.

She had kept true to her word; ten minutes or so later, another ring was heard and you gestured to Corpse to open it this time as you gave Sykkuno his cup of water and resisted any and every urge to roll your eyes or do something otherwise bitchy and stupid. Corpse did as told, and you watched them hug and listened to Rae squeal in excitement through the open door of the living room and decided to plaster a smile on your face for as long as you could muster before you remove yourself from the situation when they start filming.

Unfortunately for you, the first person she locked eyes with was exactly you, and they lit up an even prettier brown (if that was even possible) as she beelined to you and you barely got a greeting out before she engulfed you in a large hug, arms wrapping around your neck as she swayed both of you side to side.

“Oh my God, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Rae cheered into your ear before she finally pulled back, before shooting an infectious grin at you that you couldn’t help but return back.

“All good things, I hope.” you chuckled as she moved to greeting Sykkuno, and nodded her head with an enthusiastic giggle of her own. You eyed Corpse for a second who simply leaned against the door frame, watching the whole thing unfold with somewhat of a proud smile on his face, before Rae turned back to you and your attention was on her again.

“Of course! Corpse is very much a simp for you, you know that?” She said and both you and Corpse laughed, especially him, who nodded his head in agreement as she sat back down, still beaming at you.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that.” you respond before turning back to Corpse. “Where’s Karl at?”

“He’ll be here in half an hour or so, he only landed recently.” he said. You nodded and moved to sit on a nearby chair to leave space for the guests on the couch.

Karl ended up arriving in twenty minutes and apprised everyone of the information that “his taxi driver is a psycho that, apparently, doesn’t fear stop signs or the police” before setting up the camera in your kitchen and tried his best to attach lapel mics on everybody (admittedly, it took way longer than it should’ve, but he eventually managed and that counted as a win in his book). You reluctantly agreed to be the judge of the finished product when they’re done cooking, and Karl was there for the purposes of being a cameraman and making jokes off screen so he agreed too, albeit way more enthusiastically than you.

The two of you sat behind the camera as the three of them lined up, Corpse wearing a mask and his signature eyepatch (that he didn’t really need, but those two did their job in preserving his privacy) and introduced what they were doing. Corpse was obviously very anxious, hands fidgeting constantly and shivering like a dog after a bath despite the hoodie he was wearing in 100 degree weather because of the shower of sweat that was now drying on his body, and that was partly why you were there, supportive smiles, encouraging cheers and all.

They were making Mexican ground beef tacos, and despite knowing Corpse can barely make a sandwich without setting at least two dishes on fire, you still cheered him on proudly and repeated he was part Mexican himself roughly 5 times a minute, claiming he was going to kill it.

“Kill it? More like kill one of us- CORPSE watch what you’re doing with that fucking knife! You’re proving my point!” Rae yelled at him as he giggled in delight, watching the woman gape at him in pure horror and Sykkuno watch his movements completely entranced as he played with the knife in his hands.

“You’re just mad that he’s going to make tacos fifty times better than you.” you said to Rae, chewing down on some M&Ms that Karl and you shared (both of you decided on a genius plan - you’re going to eat the whole bag before they’re done with cooking so you can claim you’re full and therefore can’t eat the atrocity that will most likely be the tacos).

“Don’t gas me up like that, Y/N, you are well aware I’m shit at cooking. Expect absolutely nothing from me.” he replied over the sizzling of the meat on the pan, throwing a whole spoonful of chili powder into it, earning loud yelling and scolding from your side and loud laughter from Rae.

“HALF A TEASPOON! Half a teaspoon, how have you not remembered this already?! We’ve made tacos a million times now, oh my God, you’re actually stupid.” you yelled at him, arms flailing in the direction of the seasoning to emphasise your ‘half a teaspoon’ point as Rae doubled over in laughter and Sykkuno looked into the pan with a concerned and somewhat afraid look. Just as he peeked in, the overwhelming smell of chili powder started biting away at his eyes, and he jumped away with a yelp.

“Jesus, Corpse!” he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes with his forearm as the whole room burst into laughter and Corpse suspiciously inspected his beef.

“What were you saying about your ‘Mexican king’, Y/N?” Rae asked, pulling out a few tortillas and putting them on the table. You huffed, grabbing another handful of M&Ms.

“Giving him up to God. He’s the only one who can help, at this point.” you said. She giggled in response and Corpse let out some sort of protesting sound and waved his knife around in complaint. “I don’t know who this man is. He broke into my kitchen and now I’m here.”

“Hey, I pay half of your rent!” he said, and you were about to reply but Rae dropped her meat into a pan full of overheated oil, and a loud hiss and some sort of a scream overtook the room as a cloud of steam shot into the air and she frantically looked around for the wooden spoon so the meat wouldn’t stick to the pan. You simply sat and laughed, eating the candy like it was popcorn and you were watching a shitty cooking show - it wasn’t that far from reality, really.

“Um, I just realised I don’t make many tacos, actually.” she said as she helplessly stirred the meat, turning to you with pleading eyes. “What seasoning even goes into this? Y/N, will you help me? Let’s team up against Corpse!”

You tilted your head in thought, but before you could even speak, Corpse spoke up.

“That’s not fucking fair, that’s-that’s against the rules.” he turned to you. “You won’t betray me, right?”

You laughed at him, adjusting in your seat. “I gave up on you ever since you added, like, 3 kilos of seasoning into the meat for no reason.” then you turned to Rae. “Sure, let’s do it, babe.”

Their loud yelling immediately started mixing, Rae’s cheers contrasting Corpse’s protesting. She stuck her tongue out at him meanwhile Corpse shot her the middle finger, and she turned back to you with a grin.

“Alright, what do I put in?”

Roughly twenty unnecessary and extremely long minutes later, the tacos were done, two each for each of them. Rae’s looked the best - probably because you guided her through the whole thing - next to Sykkuno’s, whose you were genuinely intrigued to try. While Corpse was arguing with Rae, he burned roughly half of his already ruined beef, and Karl made the very nice observation that it looked like a bird shat in a tortilla, which you proclaimed as the highlight of the video.

Since you and Karl claimed you were full, the three of them simply swapped tacos between each other as to be unbiased, and the two of you watched in amused suspense. You were actually quite interested to see what the end results were - you were first anxious and quite annoyed you even had to participate in the first place, because it meant losing your mind from jealousy, watching Corpse and Rae giggle and act all domestic while cooking, but jealousy simply dissipated somewhere half through the video as you watched the three argue if cheddar cheese belonged on tacos or not and Rae laugh at every stupid joke you cracked. Now, you sat, fully immersed as you stared at Sykkuno’s face; the poor guy ended up with the misfortune of having to try Corpse’s taco first.

“Zoom in, zoom in!” you whispered into Karl’s ear who complied and zoomed into Sykkuno’s face. He bit into the taco, chewing for a second before his face twisted in disgust and you began wheezing when he grabbed a tissue and spit it out, immediately grabbing his glass of water. Rae laughed at him as well, mouth full of his one, which she claimed she actually liked but it wasn’t as good as the “Y/NRae-co” as she proudly called it. Corpse silently ate Rae’s taco and refused to give a review on it because he was upset he got defeated, but the fact that he scarfed down the whole thing in a minute or so was enough of a review.

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.” Corpse exclaimed when he saw Sykkuno’s bite in the tissue, grabbing the second taco he made and biting down on it. The whole room burst into laughter when he roughly swallowed, tears obvious in the one eye that showed, because of the overly spicy beef.

“What are you motherfuckers laughing at? It’s not that bad, I stand by tacorpse.”

“Tacorpse is actually genius. The one good thing you came up with during the entirety of this video.” Rae said and Corpse mumbled a fuck you in response.

“Well, I think we can all agree that me and Y/N’s taco was clearly the best.” she said, clasping her hands together.

“I actually think mine was better.” Sykkuno said, to which she pushed his plate out of the frame.

“Nobody asked you anything.”

“Don’t bully Sykkuno, I’ll fucking kick you out.”

“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure Y/N would kick you out before they’d let you kick me!” Rae said, accusingly pointing her taco in Corpse’s direction.

“Alright, let’s wrap up the video.” Karl laughed behind the camera, and the three of them all turned to properly face it and end the video.

“Thank you all so much for watching, this has been an… interesting video, to say the least. Uh, thank you to Karl for filming this whole disaster, thank you to Corpse,” Rae gestured in his direction, “for lending us his kitchen, thank you to Sykkuno for probably getting us more views on this video, and also a big thank you to Y/N, Corpse’s better half for making this video way more interesting and helping me make probably, like, the best taco I’ve ever made.” she grinned and you shoved a peace sign in front of the camera.

“If you liked this video, check out Sykkuno and Corpse’s channels, they will be linked down below, and please click like and subscribe to support the channel! Again, thank you all for watching, see you later, bye!” she finished, and with that, Karl turned the camera off.

Silence engulfed the room. You sighed.

“Alright, who’s gonna clean this shit up?”

[azuregiggles]

The Bold and The Honk: Ler!George Lee!Karl

With a brief Ler!Quackity, Ler!Dream and Ler!SapNap

ALL PLATONIC

Author Notes: Sorry this took a bit longer than I thought it would! But it's finally here!!!

Words: 3314

WARNINGS: Swearing, I think that's it let me know if you think something else should be a warning.

SUMMARY: George is in a rather big Ler mood and is desperate to wreck someone. Lucky for him there are four others in the Feral household and so his search for a lee begins.

It was a rather ordinary day in the feral boys household each man was doing something rather independently. Dream was taking his fifth nap of the day though it was only noon. SapNap was editing in his office. Quackity was practicing making a few different dishes for a cooking stream they all had planned for later in the week and Karl was assisting him. That left George.

He was supposed to be working on his most recent video for his seemingly neglected YouTube channel but he just couldn’t get up the momentum he needed in order to focus. His mind was far too busy putting him in a very interesting mood. He watched his own fingers tap away at the keys and couldn’t help but imagine the squeaks and giggles it would make rather than its ‘click clack’ if it were a person beneath his fingers instead.

He leaned back in his chair, fingers running through his already messy hair. This only made him think of Karl and how he’d melt if someone lightly scratched his head. A fond smile crossed his lips. Living among the four other men he’d grown accustomed to the various and constant forms of affection. If any of them wanted a specific affection such as to cuddle there was always another Feral around to ensure they were helped and happy.

Gogy’s mind wandered back to tickling and how much it meant to the five of them. If ever one of them was in need of cheering up or just a smile this was a much favored method to get the crew back into a chipper mindset. Occasionally one of them would even ask to be on the receiving end and the friends would oblige with no questions. George was in the opposite mood however. He wanted to be on the giving end of things right now. He felt as though he needed it.

George was rarely one to be in a lee mood. He was often neutral until one of the others was under attack, then he’d join the offensive. Right now though, he was far from neutral, he was completely in a ler mood and ready to wreck someone. He trudged his way down the hall to Dream’s room and poked his head in the door. The green hooded man had clearly just woken up, his hair was tousled and his eyes were struggling to stay open. George tapped lightly on the door. Looking up Dream groaned jokingly “Ewwww what do you want?”

“I need you to help me with a certain mood I’m in?”

“What mood exactly?”

George stepped into the room until he was next to Dream “I’m in a ler mood and I really wanna tickle someone. You’ll help me right, Dreamy?” He poked his friend in the side.

“Absolutely nahahat! I just woke up! Go awahay!” The green one giggled and gave George a playful shove towards the door. George moved over to him again and ruffled his already messy hair with a grin.

“Fine sleepyhead, but don’t come to me with your next lee mood. I won’t be nice about it.”

“Whatever just get outta here dumbass.” Dream chuckled, swatting the offending hand away.

George decided to leave and continue his search for his next victim. Next he checked with Sap who was content at his desk. He leaned over the man’s shoulder. “Saaappppp” he whined.

“Geeoorrrggggeeeee” Sapnap mockingly whined back. “What’s up Gogs?”

“Can you help meee?”

“With what? Be specific.” Sap chuckled, eyes on the screen. George placed his hands on the ravenette’s sides, who tensed and smiled.

“I wanna tickle someone, like wreck them.”

“I’m editing go tickle Dream!” He playfully swatted Gogy’s hands away.

“He’s just woken up and won’t let me.”

“Then try Quackity.”

“He’s cooking.”

“Then tickle Karl, you know he loves it.” Sap giggled and pushed his friend towards the door “We can’t all procrastinate Gogs, I need to finish this video.” The door closed on him, Sap had returned to editing.

Editing had its own kind of fun but nothing would entertain the streamer the way his friends’ reactions did. SapNap was the proudest of the bunch, always holding out on laughing for as long as possible and will deny any compliments till the bitter end. Would have been an excellent target.

Dream was a screamer, his constant wheezing and endless sass made him an interesting lee to say the least. He always claimed to hate being tickled but the word ‘stop’ seemed to leave his vocabulary at the smallest poke. Unfortunately he was still drowsy and as such off the list.

Quackity was an involuntary fighter, the kind you have to pin a bit if you don’t wanna get punched or kicked. His hysterical laughter is always filled with a sailor’s worth of swearing no matter how much fun he’s having. George didn’t feel like getting potentially injured though. Another lee bites the dust.

Karl, on the other hand, was pure gold. The most ticklish, easily flustered by compliments and teasing but also not too embarrassed to admit that he loves the affectionate bonding that was tickling. His laughter was always full of cute noises like hiccups and snorts. But above all, since he enjoyed it, he was the one of George’s friends who could last the longest. Perfect.

Sir Not Found made his way to the basement, the Feral Cave as they all called it. With large sofas for streaming console games together and a large kitchen for cooking streams like the one Quackity was currently preparing for. Karl was presently attempting to flip an omelet and failing miserably.

“Oi! It’s a wild Gogy! In my kitchen!? The fuck is this!?” Quackity announced George’s arrival.

“Hey George! Wanna watch me pop off? I’m the omelet flipping champion.” Karl boasted and Quack rolled his eyes.

“You’ve dropped that same egg blob like five times, good thing no ones gonna eat it, they’d die on the first bite.” Quack told him.

George, who hadn’t said a word, walked into the kitchen and behind Karl. He slipped his arms around his friend’s waist and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“Uhhuh George?” Karl’s tone was nervous and giddy. “Everything okay?”

George decided not to beat around the bush “I’m in a terrible ler mood. Lemme tickle you?” He gently poised his hands on Karl’s sides.

Karl froze and his cheeks turned red “Wh-What? How can you just ask that?” The room was already filled with his nervous giggles. He tensed in George’s hold, anticipating an attack. “B-Besides I’m helping Quack right now.”

“Oooh Karl’s in trouble Gogy’s in his bold arc!” Quackity teased. “You can have him Gogs, he’s a terrible sous chef anyway!”

“Hey!” Karl protested.

“Pleeaaasssseee Karl?” George tightened his hold, effectively hugging the other man who slightly melted into his arms.

“Oh fu-honk, okay. Please just-“ he was cut off as he was promptly thrown over George’s shoulder and carried towards the couches. His sweater paws now covered his face. He let out a yelp as he was plopped onto the sofa.

“Damn Gogy, you’re down bad. Must be one hell of a ler mood. Karl you’re so fucked” Quackity called from across the room.

Karl was far too giggly to respond. He covered his face and squirmed as George sat on his waist. “I don’t know where this mood came from. I just really needed to wreck someone. I tried Sap but he’s editing and told me to ask Karl because Karl. Loves. Being. Tickled. So. So. Much.” If there were any doubt that Karl was blushing before there was no room for argument now, with each word George poked Karl in the ribs, sending him into a giggle fit full of squeaks as his face flushed red.

“Sahahap is duhuhumb.” Karl offered.

“Mm-hm, and you’re ticklish! Now where’s that adorable laughter Karl? Please don’t keep me waiting. Your face has gone red you’re like a raspberry!” George reminded him by tasering his sides, earning a squeal. “Any specific requests from our little web star i-Karlee?”

Karl was in tease hell. When did George come up with a nickname like that!? His blush began to spread up to his ears and he made a series of flustered sputters as he tried to form words. He shook his head no.

“So I can just go for it?”

Karl nodded.

“Do you want me to start slow or wreck you? Your face is getting darker, how cute! Is that red Quackity? I need help confirming since I’m colorblind” George wiggled his fingers in the air.

More sputters left Karl’s lips. When did Gogy get so good at teasing? “I-I do-don’t” he squealed again as his sides were tasered once more.

“That’s not an answer~”

“J-Juhuhust” Karl tried to think through his giggles. He would die if this teasing continued. Unsure if he could handle being wrecked immediately he chose what he thought was the safer option. “Slohohow fihihirst”

“Aww~ anything for you i-Karlee!” George started by lightly scratching along his friend’s lower belly.

“Nahahaha!” Karl covered his mouth and snorted.

“Oh~ how adorable, you sound just like techno! Do it again!” George scratched around Karl’s navel.

“George NOHO!” He squealed and kicked his legs out behind the ravenette above him. Trying his best to not snort again he grabbed a nearby pillow and used it to muffle the noise.

“Now now, don’t hide from me Karl. You’ll only make it worse~” he teased and pinched along Karl’s lower rib, just enough to make him let go of the pillow. Karl snorted again as George returned his attention to his navel.

“Oh? Does this little piggy have a ticklish button? This one here?” He poked his finger inside and wiggled it around.

A small cackle resounded from the brunette “NAHAHA dohohoHOHOnt!” He whined and squirmed left to right.

“I believe the rhyme goes whee whee whee whee all the way home Karl” wriggling digits spidered up Karls sides and ribs, right to his armpits. Arms snapped down as bubbly laughter filled the air. “Do you think this is a good home for them?”

“OHOHOUT! G-GEHEHET OUT! NOHOHAHAHA” Karl bucked up and down trying to wrench the attacking fingers from his hallows.

“I’d love to but it seems as though I’m stuck here. What am I to do Karl? You’ve trapped me.”

“SLOHOHOW DOHOHOWN” Karl pleaded and snorted once more his face scrunched.

“Alright but you’ll have to lift your arms if I do~” Gogy warned him but slowed down to give his friend a breather.

Very hesitant arms lifted to free George's hands. As promised Gogy removed his hands from Karl’s armpits and began scanning for his next target. Karl took deep breaths and closed his eyes as he giggled and rubbed away the phantom tickles.

“Would you like to play a little game i-Karlee?”

“Whahat kind ohohof game?” He blushed at the nickname.

“It’s simple really, you keep your arms up as I count your ribs. If you snort I start over, If you bring your arms down that’s ten seconds of tickling on your worst spot.”

“You’re evil”

“That’s not a no Karl~”

“Sh-shut up”

“Is that a yes?”

“I… I mean-... It’s more of a…”

“Arms uuup~ up, up ,up.” George coaxed him and smirked.

Karl’s arms betrayed him as he felt his head rest on his hands, his arms up and behind his head. He knew he’d never made it through this counting game before without his arms coming down. He knew it was a trap and yet he couldn’t help the anticipatory giggles that poured from his mouth.

“Wow you must be in a lee mood if you’re being this obligatory. I’m honored.”

Karl avoided eye contact, his blush returning.

“Awww~ I knew he’d be willing to help you George” Sapnap’s voice came from the kitchen where he was now helping Quackity clean. “Karl loves to be tickled.”

“Is that what all the noise is?” A still half-awake Dream fumbled down the stairs and flopped onto his beanbag chair that was just out of view of their stream setup. Karl’s hands moved back to covering his face.

“It certainly is Dream! He’s helping me with my Ler mood.” Gogy supplied.

“Aww~ How sweet of him. Oh my god, look at how red he is.” He scoffed, “Since he loves to be tickled so much it’s a win win. Having fun Karl?” Dream chuckled and watched the two from afar. The glint in his eye made Karl nervous again.

“Now where were we?” George returned his attention to a very flustered Jacobs “Ah yes~ Put those arms back up, please.”

A tiny squeak and the raising of arms was all Gogy needed to begin. He started at the top rib, knowing that, when it came to his ribs, Karl’s were more ticklish the lower they were. Karl gave a surprised squeal and began to wiggle around, his arms already threatened to drop.

“Oooonnneee~ stay still for me okay i-Karlee?”

“i-Karlee? Really George” Sap laughed “that’s so dumb.”

“Twooo~ such a pretty laugh”

“Karl seems to like it~” Quackity chimed in.

“Threeeee~! You’re changing color again. Is it magic?”

“Aww does little Jacobs love his new nickname?” Dream added to the verbal assault.

“SHUT THE HONK UP” Karl was losing it. All of his friends' teasing was getting to him far more than the actual tickling. “Plehehehease! You buhuhunch of nihihimrods! I’m gohohonna dihihiie”

“That’s not very nice Karl!” George smirked as he continued counting ribs silently “you should apologize~”

Karl shook his head no. He knew what he was getting into.

“Oh? Feeling sassy all of a sudden?”

“You gonna take that from a lee George?” Dream instigated, ignoring the slow rise of butterflies in his own stomach. The tickling stopped.

“What are you dohohoing?” Karl gave nervous glances to both of them. He’d expected to be wrecked, not ignored.

“Apologize or you’ll be punished” George told him.

“Try me” Karl taunted.

“Oh I’m not going to tickle you into apologizing, quite the opposite actually.”

“What? How does that-?”

“If you don’t apologize no one gets to tickle you for a week. Even if you ask.”

“That’s just evil Gogy you know Karl can’t go a day without a lee mood” Sapnap added.

“Holy shit, Gogy’s villain arc!? Ooohhh you better apologize Karl~” Quackity watched them with excitement.

“Well what’s it gonna be?” George looked at Karl again “say sorry and I’ll wreck you properly” wiggling fingers hovered over Karl’s lower ribs.

“O-okay I’m sorry.” Karl hid his face again “please tickle me” he squirmed in place. A flood of adoring comments from the other four men filled his ears. Karl’s face returned to a lovely shade of red as he sputtered and giggled.

“Aww he even said please, now you gotta ruin him good Gogs.” Quackity laughed.

“I intend to. You three help me a bit?” George ignored Karl’s giggly protests “don’t tickle him, just tease.”

The trio grinned and gathered around. Sapnap was behind Karl, arms around his waist. Dream was on his beanbag he’d dragged over beside the couch. Quackity was laying on the back of the sofa. George, in front of Karl, positioned his hands on the brunettes knees.

“Ready Karl?” George asked him in a teasy tone but wanted to make sure he wasn’t crossing a line.

Pulling his hood over his eyes, giggling frantically, Karl nodded. A shriek was caught in his laughter as it began. George kneaded the spot above each knee and scribbled beneath them whenever the chance arose. He grinned at the bubbly laughter filled the air, mixed with snorts and cackles. Now this was the kind of lee interaction he’d needed.

“Awwww, how cute your knees are so sensitive~” SapNap cooed directly into his ear.

“How is your laughter so sweet Karl. I literally don’t understand how it can be so endearing” Quackity chimed in from his perch. George was currently kneading Karl’s sides making the younger squeal in lighthearted protest. Tears of mirth streamed down his cheeks.

“Better not let the fans see you blush like this Karl~” Dream chuckled “They’d lose their shit. Imagine Karl can’t open social media without see everyone saying how adorable he is~”

Another shriek pierced the air as hands squeezed Karl’s hips on rapid fire. Karl leaned back into Sapnap to avoid bucking away from the touch. Sap chuckled and blew gently on his ears, not touching him but it tickled Karl just enough to make him scrunch up his shoulders and kick out his legs a bit.

All the while Dream and Quackity continued to ruffle Karl’s hair and showered him with teasing words and praise. “Aww was that a snort Karlos~”

“You look like you’re loving this Karl~”

Karl’s struggling car to a stop and he melted into the sofa and Sap’s embrace. His mind was really foggy but he knew he was happy. He felt safe even in moments like this because he knew his friends would never take it too far. Three people teasing as one wrecked him physically was a new but welcomed experience for the lee. After another couple of minutes the tickling was only a gentle skittering across his neck, making him melt as he caught his breath,

“I think I’m satisfied, how about you Karl? Did you get your fill?” George checked.

“Uhuhuh just ohohone more tihihing?” Karl giggled shyly.

A flood of awes filled the air, making him hide his face once again.

“And what would that be?~” George paused for an answer.

“R-Raspberries” A familiar heat arose to his features.Due to keeping his face in his sweater paws Karl missed the mischievous grins and looks that passed between the other four. A silent plan formed.

“What!? Gogy forgot your raspberries? How rude, don’t worry I’ve got your back Karl.~” Sap said into his ear. Karl knew exactly what that tone was and barely had time to speak before a raspberry was blow onto his neck by Sapnap.

“SAHAHAP WHAHAT THE HEHEHELL?”

“Oi! Look what you’ve done Nappitus!” Quackity was using his chef voice again “You’ve upset Karl and made ’im sweah! You should know his favorite spot is right ‘ere!” With that he blew a raspberry upon Karl’s ribs.

“QUAHAHAHCK STAHAHAHAP” Karls shriekd but made no attempt to escape.

“You’re doing it wrong it’s riiight here~” Dream took in a huff of air.

Karl’s hands shot down from his face just in time to see his roommates’s lips reach his side “DREHEHEAM NOHOHOOOO- ACK” His whine was cut off by a yelp and a flood out loud, bright laughter. Dream smirked and continued.

“Now, now we should all know that Karl’s belly is his favorite~” George had to speak loudly to be heard over the symphony of sensations that were currently driving poor Karl insane. Karl squirmed and sputtered half hearted protests as George leaned down and took in a large breath. The vibrations sent a shock through Karl’s core and left him laughing silently. A chorus of raspberries on his four worst yet favorite spots was causing him to feel exhausted. Noticing this his quartet of lers each gave him one last raspberry before helping him rub away the phantom tickles. They all hugged him and showered him with praise for holding out.

“Thahahahat was mehehean” Karl giggled and hiccuped in the pile of an embrace.

“Was it too much?” George asked, a bit worried. Karl blushed and shook his head no.

“Did you love it Karl~?” Dream chided. Karl nodded, sweater paws covering his face.

“Awwww~ Karlos~” Quackity hugged him a bit tighter.

“Sh-shut up” Karl couldn’t hide the grin in his voice and the group laughed together. They stayed piled up for a while but eventually Dream and Quackity wandered off leaving Sapnap stranded under George and Karl who had managed to fall asleep on top of him.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever - George Weasley

Title: Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever Pairing: George x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dirty talk, fingering, oral (male receiving), throat fucking, orgasm denial, light spanking, degredation. Summary: turns out falling in love with your enemy is more complicated that George and Y/N thought. A/N:  here it is, the sequel to good girl!! This actually ended up turning out differently than I thought I would and im not sure how I feel about that but I’m gonna upload it anyway otherwise it will quite literally never end up on here haha. But anyway, feedback is always appreciated/welcome!! Read part 1 here!

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George lets out a sigh, causing Y/N to glare up at him. He had promised to be good when Y/N agreed to let him tag along with her to the library, but they’ve only been there for 20 minutes and this is already the 5th time he’s let out a deep sigh. George grins at her, and even though she wants to be mad, Y/N finds him too adorable to even act like she’s mad.

Y/N rests her chin on her hand, just letting herself watch George for a moment. It’s hard for her to believe that just a few months ago she hated his guts, because now just the sight of George makes her feel dizzy with love. “What do you want, George?”

“Your attention,” George responds as if the answer is obvious. “When you said I could come with you I figured you’d end up sucking my cock or something. Not actually do homework.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down her spine. “How can one person be that horny? We literally just had sex this morning.”

George bites his lip, memories of their early morning meeting taking over his mind. Y/N is still apprehensive about spending the night in his dorm, so Saturday mornings have become their opportunity to be together before George has Quidditch practice. There isn’t a deserted corridor or secret passageway they haven’t done it in, and they spent quite a few hours together this morning in the same secret passageway they hooked up in for the first time.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately, darling? You’re absolutely gorgeous and not to mention sexy,” George compliments, reaching out to cup Y/N’s cheek. “I just can’t control myself around you. Every time I’m around you I have the overwhelming urge to just touch you and pull you close.”

Y/N can feel her cheeks flushing, and she tilts her chin forward to silently ask George for a kiss. He kisses her briefly, but it doesn’t fail to make Y/N feel lightheaded. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Georgie. And while I find you extremely, extremely sexy, I do actually have to do my homework. Because of your inability to keep your hands to yourself I’m falling behind in Potions and Herbology.”

“Oh come on Snivellous loves you, he’d probably do your assignment for you if you asked. And Sprout is a total pushover. All you have to do is give her some sob story and you’ll get an extension easily.” George’s lower lip juts out, giving Y/N his best pout. “Please? Just pay attention to me a little bit.”

“Or, you can sit here with me quietly while I do my homework, and when I’m all done you can take me to the room of requirement and have your way with me,” Y/N suggests, picking her quill back up.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.” George sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N work. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she works on a Potions essay and George finds it incredibly cute. He finds it hard to believe that he once wanted nothing to do with Y/N. He’s absolutely captivated by everything she does, and he could spend hours just sitting there watching her do nothing.

“First Quidditch game of the year next week,” George comments idly. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, but he’s been sitting there quietly for the past 45 minutes and he can’t resist his urge to say something. It’s a Saturday evening and they’re the only two in the library, so he doesn’t even have anyone else around to watch and distract himself.

Y/N hums, not looking up from her essay. Honestly she’s surprised George lasted 45 minutes without saying anything, so she’s willing to humor him a bit while she works. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Angelina’s first game as captain. She’s a nervous wreck. But she’s been doing really good. It’s like Wood is still there.” George pauses, watching as Y/N scribbles a few things down. “You gonna be there?”

“Of course.” She looks up to wink at George. “Slytherin’s playing. I never miss a Slytherin game.”

George rolls his eyes playfully. “But you’re not just going to be there for Slytherin, right? You’re gonna be there to watch a super-hot Ginger whiz around the field hitting bludgers at everyone.”

Y/N shrugs. “I dunno. If you ask me Fred really isn’t that good of a Quidditch player.” When George pouts at her Y/N laughs and leans forward to kiss him. “I’m only joking, love. ‘Course I’ll be there cheering you on. Maybe not as loud as I’ll be cheering for Slytherin but cheering nonetheless.”

“Guess that’ll have to do,” George drawls, fake disappointment in his tone. George bites his lip, watching Y/N flip through her Potions book before she scribbles something down on her essay. “Can I ask you something?” When Y/N nods he continues. “Will you wear one of my extra Quidditch jumpers to the game?”

Y/N looks up at George then, putting her quill down. “And betray my house? George Weasley how dare you ask that of me!” she responds, feigning shock. “How about I wear your Gryffindor hat or scarf? That way you can spot me in the crowd of Slytherins and I’ll be warm.”

George frowns. “But I want you to wear my jumper. You can wear your own hat and scarf and my jumper will keep you warm.”

“It’s just that. I always wear one of Adrian’s quidditch jumpers. And Daphne wears one of Marcus’. It’s like, our thing. Has been since second year when they made the team,” Y/N explains. She reaches out to grab George’s hand, frowning when he pulls it away. “Georgie. Don’t be like this.”

George huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He knows that Adrian and Y/N are best friends, and even though she’d reassured him that her and Adrian never had romantic feelings for one and other, George can’t help but feel jealous when it comes to him. Obviously Y/N is his girlfriend and he knows that she loves him, but the mere mention of Adrian never fails to drive him up the wall.

“Just thought you’d want to wear you boyfriend’s Quidditch jumper,” he mumbles, settling back into his chair.

“It’s just a jumper, George. I don’t see what the big deal is.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and gets up, walking over to George. She straddles his waist and places her hands on his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to George’s mouth. She keeps pecking his lips until George melts and kisses her back eagerly, his hands settling on her hips. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll wear it.”

“Promise?” George asks, unable to keep from smiling.

“Promise. But I’m wearing my Slytherin hat and scarf. Can’t let people think I’ve gone completely soft for you.” Y/N looks back at her homework, before looking at George again. “Ah screw it. I’ll just finish that tomorrow. Take me to the room of requirement?”

George’s eyes light up and he grips Y/N’s thighs as he stands up. “No need to ask me twice.”

-

“You can’t even have one meal apart from him without making love eyes at each other across the hall. It’s disgusting,” Daphne teases, pretending to gag.

Y/N flips her off, not bothering to break eye contact with George. Ever since they started dating Y/N and George have eaten every meal together, taking turns at which house table they sit at. But since it’s the night before the first Quidditch match George had opted to sit at the Gryffindor table without Y/N, so that Angelina could go over a few last-minute things with the team. He’s supposed to be listening to whatever Angelina is saying, but with how focused he is on her, Y/N knows whatever she’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Adrian and Marcus join them then, and Y/N finally breaks eye contact with George, since Adrian sits right in their line of sight.

“You guys ready for tomorrow?” Daphne asks as they start to pile food on their plates. Snape had given the whole Slytherin Quidditch team permission to skip their afternoon lessons so they could get one last practice in on the field before tomorrow’s game. And both boys look exhausted, but also excited.

Marcus nods happily, “Oh yeah, Gryffindor is going down, no doubt about it.” He turns to grin at Y/N. “No offense to you or your boy toy, of course.”

Y/N flips Marcus off. “He’s not my boy toy, he’s my boyfriend, there’s a difference, moron. And there’s no need to be jealous, Marcus. I know it’s hard to watch me and George be together and I’m sure someday Daph will want to kiss you when she’s sober.”

Adrian laughs, prompting Marcus to hit him in the back of the head. “Don’t get feisty with me because Y/N is right. Oh, that reminds me.” Adrian reaches into his bag and pulls out one of his Quidditch jumpers. “Here, for tomorrow. I probably won’t see you before the game.”

“Oh, um. I don’t need it.” All three of her friends give Y/N a look and she puts down her fork. “I’m gonna wear George’s jumper tomorrow.”

Daphne frowns. “But you always wear Adrian’s. And I wear Marcus’. It’s a tradition, Y/N.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “It’s just a sweater, Daph. You’re acting like I’m stabbing him in the back or something.”

Adrian huffs and puts the sweater back in his bag. “If it’s just a damn sweater then why are you wearing Weasley’s? Didn’t know you stopped making decisions for yourself when he started shagging you.”

Y/N whips her roll at Adrian’s head. “You’re lucky there’s a table in between us Adrian or I’d break your fucking arm. Why are you being such a dick? George is my boyfriend and he asked me to wear his jumper. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but it does to him, and I love him so I’m going to wear it.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes. “It just annoys me that things are changing. It used to be just us four. Now it’s always us four and George.”

Y/N sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. They’ve operated as a foursome ever since the first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all just scared 11-year olds. Throwing George into the mix has changed their dynamic and she’s sure it’s been hard on all of them to adjust. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I planned on getting a boyfriend, it just kinda happened. I’ll wear your jumper to every other Slytherin game, okay?”

“Guess it’ll do,” Adrian settles, taking a bite out of the roll Y/N threw.

-

“Woo! Let’s go George! That’s my boy!” Y/N shouts, causing the Slytherins around her to all glare. Harry has just caught the snitch meaning of course, Gryffindor has won. Y/N turns to Daphne who’s pouting next to her and shapes her fingers in the form of an L. “Sorry, Slyther-losers. Good luck winning the Quidditch cup now!”

Daphne rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You’re a Slytherin too, you realize that, right?”

“Not today!” Y/N pulls her Slytherin knit cap off her head and shoves it into her jacket pocket as she unzips it to show off the red and gold jumper she’s wearing. “I’m a Gryffindor today, baby! Now come on let’s go, you can go make sure Marcus doesn’t drown himself in the showers and I can give George the congratulatory blow job I promised.”

“Ew! Way too much information, Y/N,” Daphne grimaces.

Y/N laughs as they start to head down to the pitch, unable to keep the smile off of her face. George looks hot just sitting there doing nothing, so seeing him whiz around the field hitting bludgers has left Y/N feeling dizzy with a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. He was gripping his bat so hard his knuckles were turning white, and the veins on his hand were visible from her seat in the stands. He looked so powerful up there on his broom, and it’s a sight Y/N never wants to forget.

When Y/N and Daphne finally reach the ground she’s about to breakaway to sneak into the Gryffindor changing room, when Daphne grabs her arm. “What?”

“Look!” Daphne insists, directing Y/N’s attention towards the outskirts of the pitch.

Y/N swallows the lump that has appeared in the back of her throat. Angelina, Katie and Alicia are holding onto Fred, who’s desperately fighting against them, a dark look on his face. George has an identical look on his face, and he’s trying to throw Harry off of him. Draco is standing in front of them, and while Y/N can’t hear what he’s saying, she knows it’s nothing nice. “That can’t be good.” Her and Daphne rush over, just as Marcus and Adrian start to approach.

“Get back up to the castle,” Marcus directs not even bothering to look at them.

Daphne hesitates, but Y/N grabs Adrian’s arm. “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re gonna back up Malfoy, obviously. You heard Marcus, get out of here.” Adrian tries to shake Y/N off, but she tightens her grip on him. “I’m serious, Y/N. Go back to the castle. Whatever is about to happen is not going to be pretty.”

Y/N looks over at George. Harry now looks just as angry and is struggling to hold onto George’s Quidditch robes. They’re close enough now that Y/N can hear the tone of Draco’s voice, and it’s dripping with cockiness. George’s fists are clenched at his sides, like he’s preparing to knock Draco’s lights out. She’s never seen George like this, and while it turns her on to no end, it also scares the shit out of her. She lets go of Adrian’s arm and starts heading towards George to try and stop whatever this is that’s about to go down.

It’s Adrian’s turn to stop Y/N, and he wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re about to put yourself in the middle of a blood bath.”

“Let me go, Adrian! As much as I would love to watch George beat the shit out of Draco this is not the time or the place.” She tries to break free from Adrian’s grip just as George finally looks away from Draco. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, but Y/N doesn’t miss the pure rage in them. George’s eyes drop to where Adrian is gripping her and before anyone can do anything George is lunging at Draco, punching him straight in the jaw.

“What did I tell you?” Adrian growls as he starts to pull Y/N back towards the castle.

Y/N lets Adrian drag her away as watches in horror at the scene unfolding in front of her. Harry has joined in the fight as well, and he and George are on the ground on top of Draco. Fists are flying everywhere and every time one connects with a body Y/N’s stomach lurches. After what seems like an eternity Madam Hooch and several professors are descending on the scene and their view is completely cut off.

-

Y/N takes the stairs up to Gryffindor tower two at a time, desperately in need of seeing George. It’s been a few hours since the debacle that went down on the Quidditch pitch and Draco has just finished bragging about the event after getting back from the Hospital Wing. What Y/N had wanted to do was grab Draco and hang him in the dungeons from his ankle, but instead she stormed out of the common room in search of George. His punishment is severe, and all she wants to do his hug him close.

“Oh thank god,” Y/N greets Ginny as she reaches the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She really hadn’t thought about how she was going to get in until she was already halfway up the staircase. Y/N had planned on just standing around until a Gryffindor showed up, so she’s truly thankful that Ginny is already there.

Ginny smiles at Y/N and pushes the Fat Lady Portrait open. “When George got back I figured it would only be a matter of time before you came to find him. He’s up in his dorm”

When Y/N steps into the common room it’s dead quiet. Gryffindor’s parties are notorious around school, and Y/N knows that if the match had ended differently there would be a rager going on right now. Fred is starting daggers at Y/N, and she can feel her face heating up as she heads up towards George’s dorm. Fred is still not the biggest fan of her relationship with George, but he’s usually less obvious about his feelings towards Y/N.

Y/N takes a deep breath as she reaches the seventh-year dorm and she knocks quietly. “George? Georgie? It’s me. Can I come in? ”When George doesn’t say anything, she frowns and pushes the door open anyway. “Georgie,” she coos as she enters, shutting the door behind her tightly. George is sitting on the edge of his bed shirtless, facing away from her. His shoulders are tense, and it makes Y/N’s chest ache.  

“How did you get in here?” he asks firmly, not bothering to look at her.

Y/N bites her lip and starts to tentatively walk towards him. “Ginny let me in, she was waiting for me, actually.” She stops when she’s a few steps away from him. “Are you okay?” she asks softly.

George huffs. “What do you think?” His tone is sharp, and Y/N can feel tears welling up in her eyes. She figured he would be upset, but she has no idea why he’s upset with her.

“I can’t believe that toad banned you guys from Quidditch. Actually I can believe it, she’s fucking awful.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N starts to play with her fingers. “Will you talk to me George, please?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Y/N. Just go hug Adrian or whatever it is you do when I’m not around.”

Y/N frowns and goes to kneel behind George on the bed. She reaches out slowly and places her hand on his shoulder. “Georgie what are you talking about? You’re the only one I wanna be with. Every second of every day. You know that.”

“Do I?” George asks as he stands up and turns to face her. “Because you two looked pretty cozy today down on the pitch.”

Y/N lets her eyes drag over George’s face. His eyes are dark and narrow, reminiscent of the way he was looking at Draco earlier. His lip is busted open and he’s got a pretty daunting black eye, but he still looks like George. “We weren’t hugging down there, George. Is that what you thought that was?”

“That’s what it looked like, Y/N. His arms around your waist like that. Only I’m allowed to touch you like that,” George growls, his fists clenching. “If you hadn’t been standing in front of him I would have broken his jaw, not Malfoy’s.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot, George,” Y/N spits, suddenly feeling angry. Although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t turned on a little as well. Seeing George so angry and possessive has ignited a pit of arousal in her stomach. “He wasn’t hugging me. He was keeping me from throwing myself at you to keep you from hitting Draco. You know if it wasn’t for Adrian you could have hurt me, George.”

“I’ll be sure to go thank him then,” George sneers. “God, Y/N how can you be so daft. He’s clearly in love with you. I’m sure he was just looking for some excuse to touch you.”

“You can’t be serious George. We’ve talked about this. Adrian and I have never and will never have feelings for each other.” Y/N gets off the bed and comes around so she’s standing in front of George. “And you know what even if Adrian does have feelings for me I don’t return them. I’m in love with you, you big fat fucking moron. So quit it with this jealousy crap, George.”

George suddenly grabs Y/N’s hips and pulls her into his chest harshly before leaning down and kissing her hard. “I’m not jealous,” he insists as he pushes her back onto his bed. “But you’re mine, Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure every person in this school knows that. Especially that prick Adrian.”

“God, George. You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” Y/N sits up and wraps her hand around George’s necking, pulling him in to a desperate kiss. She lays back against the bed as George forces his tongue into her mouth, pulling him on top of her.

George starts to bite and suck on Y/N’s neck, feeling the need to mark her up as much as possible. He wants there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind who Y/N belongs to when he’s done with her. He nibbles along the underside of her jaw, leaving small purple bruises in his wake. “You look so fucking hot in my jumper, Y/N. Such a shame I’m gonna have to take it off.”

George’s hands have started to run up under the jumper, his cold hands shocking her warm skin. “Then don’t,” she gasps as George bites the crook of her neck harshly. “Leave it on while you fuck me, please. It smells like you, Georgie.” Y/N moans and tangles her hands in his hair as George starts to cup her bare breasts, his calloused thumbs rubbing harshly at her nipples.

“That desperate for me already, darling? So needy for me that you wanna be able to smell me while I ruin your pretty pussy with my cock?” George pinches Y/N’s nipples hard, smirking as her back arches up off of the bed.

“Please, George,” Y/N moans, tugging on his hair. “Just wanna be your good girl.”

Y/N’s words send a shiver down George’s spine and he kisses her briefly. “You sure you wanna be my good girl? ‘Cause the way you’ve been talking makes it seem like you wanna be a bad girl.”

“Yes, George. Always wanna be your good girl, wanna be so good for you.”

George pulls away from Y/N completely and sits up, starting to fumble with the button of his trousers. “If you wanna be my good girl so bad, then you’re gonna use that pretty little mouth to show me just how good you can be.”

Y/N sits up and bats George’s hands away, undoing his trousers and shoving them down to his thighs along with his boxers. She practically drools as his hard cock pops out, and Y/N immediately wraps one of her hands around it and starts to stroke him lightly, while her other hand pulls George down into a searing kiss.

George grabs Y/N’s face in his hands as he lays back onto the bed to keep their lips connected as she settles in between his thighs. He groans as Y/N’s thumb starts to swipe over the tip of his cock and he pulls away from her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as he does. He watches it snap back into place, a little redder and plumper before and he starts to shove her head downwards. “Go on then, Y/N. Wrap those pretty lips around me so I can fuck your throat.”

Y/N immediately settles on her knees between George’s thighs, gripping the base of his cock tightly as she takes him into her mouth. She loves it when George is rough with her and tells her what to do. Seeing him jealous and angry turns her on to no end, and she can already feel her wetness coating her thighs. Y/N takes him down as far as she can, moaning when he gathers her hair in a ponytail and gives it a sharp tug. His hips jut up, shoving his cock farther down into her throat, and Y/N braces one of her hands on George’s hip while the other fists his bed sheets.

“Oh fucking hell,” George moans as Y/N looks up at him from under her eyelashes. “Look so fucking pretty like that, darling, with your mouth wrapped around my cock. You love sucking my cock, don’t you Y/N?” She hums around him, and George’s hips surge upwards, burying the rest of his cock between her lips. Y/N gags as he hits the back of her throat and George uses his grip on her hair to keep her there for a moment before he pulls her off slightly.

Y/N lets her tongue run up against the underside of George’s cock as he starts to thrust into her mouth and as his hand guides her head. George shoves the tip of his cock into the back of her throat with each thrust, and Y/N can feel tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes with each gag. She makes sure to pay attention to the tip of his cock every time he pulls her back, letting her tongue flick at it and collect the precum that’s started to bubble up at the top.

George picks up the speed of his hips, groaning as drool starts to dribble down Y/N’s chin. “Always suck me so well, Y/N. Such a good girl for me.” George let’s his cock hit the back of Y/N’s throat one more time, before he pulls her off completely. He wipes some of the drool off of her chin with his thumb and cleans it off on his pant leg. “Thank you, baby for getting my cock nice and wet, perfect for me to fuck you with. Go on then, get on your hands and knees.”

Y/N gets into position as George gets off of the bed to take his bottoms fully off. She feels George push the bottom of his jumper up, so it bunches around her hips and she moans as his large hands grab her ass. The bed shifts as he settles in behind her, his hands tugging at the fabric of her leggings.

“George!” she gasps as his hands tear a whole in her bottoms, suddenly exposing her bare core to the cold air of the room.

“No panties?” George asks as he shoves two fingers into her wet heat. Y/N moans as her walls clench around his digits and George starts to slowly fuck her with them. “Such a dirty fucking whore you are, Y/N. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to use you like a little fuck toy, like you’re just a warm wet hole for me to bury my cock in. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” Y/N begs as George’s fingers curl and finally brush up against her g-spot. George has never been this lewd with her, and she can still hear the anger in his voice. “Please, Georgie,” she whines, pushing back against his hand.

George smacks Y/N’s ass hard with his free hand, revealing in the moan that leaves her lips. “Answer me, Y/N. If you wanna cum tonight you’ll be a good girl and use your words. You’re just a warm wet hole for me to fuck and ruin, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, George, yes,” Y/N pants as his thumb starts to rub her clit.

George bites his lip as Y/N’s thighs and arms start to shake, and he smacks her ass again. “And you love being my dirty little fuck toy, don’t you?”

Y/N moans as George curls his fingers again, nodding wildly. “Love it so much Georgie, please. Wanna be your good girl, wanna make you feel good.”

In one fluid motion, George removes his fingers from Y/N’s core, grabs her hips and slams his cock into her, his hips moving until he’s buried completely inside of her. “Always so fucking tight for me darling,” George groans as he starts to move his hips. He sets a relentless pace, fucking into Y/N hard and fast. “I want to hear every little noise that comes out of you as I fuck you, understand? Want this whole fucking school to know just how good I make you feel.”

“So fucking big George, holy fuck,” Y/N moans. “Always fuck me so good, Georgie. No one can ever make me feel as good as you do, love your cock so much.” Unable to hold herself up from the pleasure coursing through her veins, Y/N falls forward onto her forearms, arching her back for George. The new positions allows him to slip even deeper inside of her, and she clenches her walls around George as she whines. “Right there, oh fuck. Harder George please. I need you,” she begs.

George tightens his grip on Y/N’s hips and slams into her harder. Normally George prefers to take things slow, but he still has the image of Adrian’s arms around Y/N’s waist and he wants to fuck her so hard that he forgets it completely. “Such a dirty fucking whore, Y/N. Begging for me to ruin you.”

“George,” Y/N groans as his thumb starts rubbing harsh circles on her clit. The tip of his cock rubs her g-spot with every thrust and her hips start to push back against him as her orgasm starts to build. Her body feels like it’s on fire and she can’t help the noises that come out of her mouth with each of George’s thrusts. “Please, George. Been such a good girl. Can I? Can I come George, please?”

George grunts as Y/N clenches around him even tighter, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay. “I don’t know if you deserve it, darling. Fuck toys don’t get to cum, do they? And that’s all you are, isn’t it? Just a little fuck to for me to use for my pleasure?”

“Please, please, please,” Y/N babbles as tears start to stream down her cheeks. She’s teetering on the edge of her climax and all she needs is for George to allow her to feel it. Pleasure is moving like an electric shock through her body and she desperately wants to let go. “Georgie, please,” she begs, the desperation clear in her voice. “I’m all yours, only yours please. Only want you, George. Please, please, let me cum.”

“Fuck that’s right, Y/N. You’re mine,” George growls. “Forever. Understand that? No one’s ever going to touch you or kiss you or fuck you ever again. Just me, only me. Go on then, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

Y/N cries out George’s name as she cums, her whole body shaking as pleasure courses through her. She collapses against the bed as her chest heaves with heavy pants, her body feeling like it’s floating. George’s hips have started to stutter as his own orgasm approaches, and Y/N clenches around him to help bring him to his climax. “Fill me up George, please. Claim me, make me yours forever.”

“Fucking hell, baby.” George collapses against Y/N’s back as he cums, his orgasm rocketing through his body. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum this hard before, and his hips slowly roll as he twitches inside of Y/N. Once he’s finished releasing inside of her George slowly pulls out and collapses on the bed next to Y/N. Silent tears are still rolling down her cheeks and George immediately pulls her into his chest. “I went too far didn’t I? Fuck I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Y/N sniffles as George starts to stroke her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. “They’re good tears Georgie I promise. It was incredible, honestly, love.”

George wipes away a few of the tears before he pulls Y/N in for a passionate kiss. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to gently rub her back. “I would never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you. I love you, Y/N, so much.”

“I love you too, Georgie. Forever, yeah?”

George pulls Y/N closer to his body and kisses the top of her forehead, praying that the anger he still feels in his chest goes away. “Forever.”

-

Despite the fact that George had promised her forever that night, Y/N can’t help but feel that they’re starting to drift apart. With their lifetime Quidditch ban in full effect, George and Fred have started to put even more time into their Weasley products and Y/N feels like she barely sees George anymore. He still walks her to class holding her hand tightly and he’s always sure to remind her that he loves her, but they no longer eat meals together and Y/N can’t remember the last time George begged her to skive off her homework to fool around in the room of requirement. But she’s happy that he’s found something to put his extra time into, so she doesn’t think too much is wrong until George misses their next Saturday morning meeting.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks as Y/N slumps over to the Slytherin table. Most Saturdays Y/N’s friends don’t see her until lunch time, so they’re all surprised as she falls into her seat next to Adrian.

Y/N sighs and starts to put random food onto her plate, not really feeling like eating. “George never showed this morning. We were supposed to meet in the room of requirement and I just sat there for thirty minutes feeling like an idiot.”  

“You mean your prince charming stood you up? Guess things aren’t as happy in the kingdom as they seem,” Marcus teases. Daphne smacks him upside the head, prompting him to frown. “I was just trying to make her smile Daph no need to try and take my head off.”

“You’re an idiot, Marcus,” Daphne scolds before turning her attention back to Y/N. “I thought something was up with you guys, but I didn’t want to say anything. I feel like I’ve barely seen you two together this past week. George is usually always hovering around you, I mean he practically worships the ground you walk on. You guys get into a fight or something?”

Y/N shrugs, picking at her muffin. “He was pretty pissed after what happened last weekend at the Quidditch match. When Adrian was trying to hold me back from going over there he thought we were hugging or something. I don’t know, he was really angry though. But I thought we uh, worked it out if you get what I mean. But clearly not.”

“What a git. He managed to score the hottest girl in school and yet he still managed to fuck it up,” Adrian murmurs, putting his arm around Y/N’s middle. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

Y/N rests her head against Adrian’s shoulder and sighs. “He’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Don’t look now,” Daphne whispers, leaning over the table. “He just walked in with Fred, act natural.”

Y/N ruffles Adrian’s hair as she sits up, trying to pretend that she can’t feel George’s eyes starting at the back of her head.

-

George slams his quill down on the table, running his hand through his hair. “Fucking bullshit. No matter how many times I calculate it the numbers just don’t match up.”

“Will you chill out? It’s not that big of a deal we can work on that shit later,” Fred urges, watching George carefully. “What’s got your panties in a twist lately? I’ve never seen you this worked up.”

It’s Saturday afternoon, and Fred and George are tucked away in a corner of the common room, working on stuff for their joke shop. George has been trying to work on an input output expense sheet, but all of the numbers keep blurring together and he can’t seem to figure out how to make them balance. It probably has something to do with the fact that things between him and Y/N aren’t quite right, but he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” George says flatly, looking back over the sheet in front of him.

Fred sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re a shit liar, you know that? And I do have eyes, you know. Something’s going on with you and Y/N and you’re clearly upset about it. And I’m not going to stop asking about it until you tell me so just spill it so we can get back to work.”

“I’ve just been so angry with her lately, like constantly. Every time I’m around her it just flares up in my chest and I have this urge to just, I dunno. Yell at her.” George pauses. “I mean did you see the way he was touching her today? I wanted to storm over there and rip him away.”

Fred knits his eyebrows together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Adrian,” George clarifies, his voice dark. “He’s always touching her, and Y/N just lets him. Even though she knows how I feel about him. Did you know I had to beg her to wear my Quidditch jumper to the game last week? And do you know why? Because she always wears Adrian’s,” he mocks. “I’m her bloody boyfriend and I had to beg her not to wear another guys jumper, it’s ridiculous.”

Fred reaches out and puts a comforting hand on George’s shoulder. “You’re my brother and I care about you, please try and remember that as I say the next thing. You’re a fucking idiot, George. I know I’m not Y/N’s biggest fan, but it’s clear that she cares about you. The way that she looks at you George, even when you’re not paying attention it’s like you’re the only thing in the world she cares about. I don’t think she means any harm when she’s like that with Adrian and deep down you know that too. I mean they’ve always been like that. Remember when you guys got detention before you were together? He showed up to walk her back to the common room and he gave her a piggyback ride. It’s not like they’ve just started being close. I don’t think I ever saw her away from Adrian or any of her friends until you guys started dating. Whatever you’re feeling is all in your head.”

“It doesn’t feel all in my head. The way he looks at her, it’s not the way someone looks at a person who’s just a friend,” George insists.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Okay so say Adrian does have feeling for Y/N. He’s clearly very deep in the friend zone. We all heard you guys last weekend, screaming about how she’s yours forever or whatever. Nearly made me throw up in my mouth, mate.”

George punches Fred’s shoulder lightly. “Fuck off. Y/N said the same thing but-“

“See! There you go,” Fred interjects, cutting George off. “Y/N said it herself. She’s in love with you, not Adrian. So, stop being an idiot and go apologize to her before she realizes what a dolt you are and ends it for good.”

George does leave the common room then, fully intending to go and see Y/N. He still feels angry deep in his chest, but his need to be close to her overwhelms all of it. That is until he finds Y/N in the library, her head titled back in a laugh at something Adrian has said. The anger in George’s chest flares as she pushes him playfully, a wide smile on her face that’s usually reserved for George.

-

Y/N can tell something has gone wrong, when there’s no Weasley’s in attendance at breakfast on Monday morning. They had all been a dinner the night before, and one Weasley not being around is perfectly normal. Even two being absent is normal if it’s Fred and George. But all four of them is unheard of, especially when Harry never shows up for breakfast either. She tries to keep herself calm, thinking that maybe they’re just doing something for the DA or planning some revenge on Umbridge. But when lunch comes around and Y/N has yet to see George or Fred in class and there hasn’t been a single streak of red hair floating around the halls, Y/N makes a beeline for the Gryffindor table where Hermione is sitting alone.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s George and everyone else. I haven’t seen them since dinner last night,” Y/N asks as she takes a seat next to Hermione. When Hermione finally looks at Y/N there’s a worried expression on her features and it makes Y/N’s stomach drop.

“George didn’t owl you?” When Y/N shakes her head, Hermione leans forward to whisper in her ear. “I can’t say too much, Dumbledore’s orders. But something happened and Mr. Weasley was badly injured, he’s in St. Mungo’s. George and the rest of the Weasley’s along with Harry took a portkey home last night, Dumbledore gave them all permission to start winter break a few days early.”

Y/N frowns, a mixture of emotions flowing through her body. On one hand she’s worried about George’s dad and how he’s coping with everything. And on the other she’s hurt that George didn’t feel comfortable enough to reach out to her and tell her what’s going on. Y/N had hoped they could make things right before being a part for two weeks, but it seems that the wedge between them is only being pushed farther and farther apart.

“Is he going to be okay? Mr. Weasley? God George must be freaking out.”

Hermione shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything yet, Harry sent an owl when they got to their destination last night. They hadn’t heard much yet, but I’m sure he’s in good hands at St. Mungos. And I’m sure George will reach out soon, Y/N. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Y/N gives Hermione a small smile before she goes to join her friends, a pit of despair growing in her stomach.

-

“It’s Christmas eve, Y/N. You’ve been held up in your room sending letters all break, can’t you give it a rest for a few days? I’m sure Daphne or Adrian will understand if they don’t get any letters from you for a bit,” Y/N’s mother says, reaching over to grab the quill from her hand.

It’s been a week since George’s father was attacked, and Y/N has been sending him letters nearly nonstop without hearing anything in return. Her owl always comes back with an empty beak, so she knows he’s been getting the letters, and her heart hurts every time he doesn’t respond. She just wants to know if he’s okay, if there’s anything she can do for him. Y/N knows she’s been ignoring her parents a little too much, but she can’t think about anything except for George.

“I’m not writing to Daphne or Adrian,” Y/N huffs, finally looking up at her parents. They’re sitting at the table having lunch together, or at least her parents are. Y/N’s owl had turned up without a response from George just before food was ready, and Y/N wants to send another to him as soon as possible.

“Well then who have you been writing too?” her father asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you write this much in your entire life.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a pink blush appearing on her cheeks. “George Weasley,” she mumbles, looking away.

“George Weasley? Y/N whatever prank that boy pulled on you can be dealt with when you get back to school. There’s no need to be going on and on with him over break,” her mother tuts with a shake of her head.

Y/N’s parents have spent much of their time over the past few years listening to Y/N complain endlessly about both Weasley Twins, so it doesn’t surprise her that her mother thinks her letters to George are out of anger instead of love. Especially since she’s yet to tell them about their relationship.

“Actually, George is my, um. He’s my boyfriend,” Y/N mutters, sheepishly looking back at her parents. They both look shocked and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look so surprised, I’m a great catch, of course I have a boyfriend.”

Y/N’s father laughs. “Sweetie we’re not shocked that you have a boyfriend, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world of course. But I’m going to be honest, George Weasley is the last person I thought you’d end up with. Last we heard you hated the very sight of him.”

“Well not anymore. I love him, so much. He’s been going through some stuff recently and I just want to make sure he’s okay,” Y/N explains. She makes sure to leave out the part that she thinks he’s going to break up with her when they get back to school, since she’d much rather ignore that for now. “Can I just finish this one letter, please? And then I won’t send another until boxing day, I promise.”

Her mother sighs and reluctantly hands her back the quill. “Fine, just one more letter. But seriously no more until boxing day. Not only is it the holidays but your poor owl needs a few days to rest.”

-

“You should write her back you know,” Ginny comments as she sits down next to George.

George hums, gripping Y/N’s most recent letter in his hands. His chest aches at how sad she sounds, but he can’t bring himself to pick up a quill and write her back. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “How about I’m a big fat idiot and the second I see you again I’m going to fall to my knees and beg for your forgiveness? That’s probably a good place to start.”

“Dunno why I have to be the one to apologize,” he mutters, wincing when Ginny smacks him upside the head. “What the hell was that for, Gin?”

“For you continuing to be a big fat idiot,” Ginny spits. “You’ve been acting like a huge asshole to her lately George that’s why you need to apologize. It only takes a person with half a brain to see how you’ve been pushing her away. So cut the crap. Either apologize to Y/N and beg for her forgiveness or break it off.”

The thought of breaking up with Y/N makes his stomach lurch. There’s no doubt in his mind that he wants to be with her, but it feels like he doesn’t know how to anymore. It seems that whenever Y/N is around Adrian is right there too, and it makes anger flare up in his chest. He knows it’s not rational, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stop feeling that way. George wants Y/N all to himself, as selfish as that may be.

“She’s probably gonna break up with me, so I don’t see the point.” George tosses the letter in his hands onto the coffee table and leans back against the couch. “Who knew being in a relationship would be so difficult?”

“It wouldn’t be so difficult if you just talked to her, git,” Ginny points out. “She’s written you a letter practically every day of break, obviously she cares about you and is worried about you.” Ginny pauses so George will look over at her. “What’s wrong anyway? Thought you guys were doing okay?”

George shrugs. “I can’t stand Adrian and his smug fucking face. He’s just there. Always. Watching her, trying to get close with her. And Y/N just sits there and lets him. You know I caught them together in the library a few nights before Dad was attacked.”

Ginny’s jaw drops. “You caught them hooking up?”

“What? No. They were doing homework,” George explains.

Ginny punches George in the thigh as hard as she can. “You’re a fucking moron, George. Since when is doing homework in the library someone cheating? Or a reason to get mad?”

“It wasn’t just the fact that they were doing homework. They were sitting next to each other and he was making her laugh,” George huffs, as if Ginny is the one being unreasonable.

“You’re joking, right?” When George doesn’t say anything, Ginny rolls her eyes. “Since when are you this insecure, George? Y/N is crazy about you. And Adrian is her friend, of course he’s gonna be around.” She bites her lip. “I think you’ve been putting too much thought into this George.”

George sits there for a moment, letting Ginny’s words sink in. Perhaps he has been getting a bit ahead of himself. Something about seeing Y/N with Adrian when he was so worked up over what Draco had been saying must have twisted something in his mind. He had felt jealous about Adrian before that, but never in a way that made him question his relationship with Y/N. Usually all it takes is one look from Y/N and all of his ill thoughts flush away. But lately it seems nothing can calm him down. He’s been putting distance between them in the hopes that his anger would finally go away, but as soon as it feels like he’s back to normal the second Y/N is in his vicinity with Adrian it all comes rushing back.

“I think I have been too,” he admits quietly. “It doesn’t feel real, sometimes. That Y/N is actually mine. I thought I only started developing feelings for her this year, but I think I’ve felt things for her for a while, I was just too stubborn to realize it. And now that I have her I want her all to myself. Like if I share her with other people she might just disappear from my life completely.”

Ginny reaches out to pat George on the shoulder. “Then tell her all of that, George. Because it’s actually kind of sweet in a weird way. Y/N loves you, George. And I know you love her. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt because you don’t have the balls to just talk to your girlfriend.”

“What a pep talk you give, Gin,” George chuckles. “But you’re right. I’m gonna talk to her, first chance I get. This is too much to put into a letter. I wanna be able to look at her while I talk to her.”

“Great. Now will you stop being so miserable? It’s really killing the Christmas spirit,” Ginny teases, ruffling his hair.

-

“Are things with George getting any better?” Daphne asks from her spot on Y/N’s bed. Her parents had decided to do some traveling in the new year, and Y/N’s parents allowed Daphne to finish up the last few days of break at their house.

Y/N shakes her head, flopping down next to her. “Nope. I haven’t heard a thing all break. Every time Aries comes back his beak is empty. So, he’s clearly reading my letters and he can’t be bothered to write back.”  

Daphne puts her arm around Y/N and tosses the copy of Witch Weekly she’d been reading off of the bed. “What a fucking prick. I haven’t said much about it because I love you and you’re my best friend and I know he means a lot to you, but Adrian was right. You do deserve better, Y/N. Your boyfriend should be worshiping you, not ignoring you.”

Y/N hadn’t told anyone about George’s dad, and she’s sure he’d get a bit more sympathy from Daphne if she knew, but if Hermione couldn’t even tell her how his Dad got hurt Y/N is sure she shouldn’t tell anyone about it at all. And besides, Hermione had owled the day after Christmas to let her know that Mr. Weasley was home and recovering well. George’s lack of communication cut Y/N deeper after hearing that.

“I think he’s going to break up with me,” Y/N admits out loud for the first time, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I love him so much and I thought he loved me too, but I don’t know. It’s like overnight things changed between us and I’m the only one trying to fix it.”

Daphne pulls Y/N in tight and hugs her. “This is the second time you’ve cried over George being an asshat and my offer still stands. I will have Adrian and Marcus beat him up.”

“The last time I cried over George he was only being an asshat in my head. But now, I’m sure he’s being an asshat in real life too,” Y/N sniffles. “God I wish break lasted just a little bit longer. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see him on that stupid train tomorrow.”

Daphne starts to stroke Y/N’s hair and wipes away a few of her tears. “Well just say the word and I’ll have Adrian and Marcus on him before he can even say Quidditch.”

-

When Y/N and Daphne get on platform 9 ¾  the next morning George’s shock of red hair is the first thing she sees. She forces herself to stay focused on her parents as they say goodbye, no matter how badly she wants to look over at him. Her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest, and all she really wants to do is sneak onto the train and to her friends without running into any Weasley. But of course, the second she’s on the train she walks smack into a hard, familiar chest.

“Trying to mow me down?” George teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

It reminds Y/N of when they were still dancing around each other, too scared to admit their feelings, and it punches a hole in her chest. “Hi, George.” Y/N pushes away from him and starts to walk away, but George’s hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back towards him. “What?” she asks flatly, looking up at him. Her eyes catch something shiny stuck to the scarf he’s wearing, and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling. “You got your Christmas present I see.”

She had wanted to get him something big and flashy for their first Christmas together. But everything she considered just didn’t seem special or sentimental enough. She had found it in some muggle store in London while shopping with her Mum, and even though it was tiny and simple, it was the perfect thing. It’s a little enamel pin in the shape of a teapot. The hours she spent with George scrubbing teapots is the foundation of their relationship, it was after that night that she first started falling in love with him.

George bites his lip and reaches out to cup her cheek. “I was an asshole to you. And you have every right to be super mad at me. But can we go talk somewhere, please?”

Y/N nods and lets George grab her hand and take her over to an empty compartment. It’s clear to her that she and George have some issues they need to work out, but she’s happy to just enjoy some time with him for now. They haven’t been alone together in nearly three weeks, and she’s been dying for his attention. She takes a seat as George closes the door behind them and pulls him down next to her once he’s close enough.

“I have a lot of things to say and I don’t know if they’re going to come out right so please just stick with me while I try and say them, okay?” George takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Y/N’s hands in his. “I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks, even before break. I think Draco knocked something loose in my head when he punched me, I’ve just been so angry since that day, and I don’t really know why. Just seeing you and Adrian together fills me with rage. And I know it shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you. I just kept getting in my head about everything and it made me not treat you the best. I’m sorry, Y/N.”  

“Then why push me away, George? Why not answer one of my stupid letters? I’ve been losing my mind here, trying to figure out what’s going on in that head of yours. I meant what I said that night, I’m yours forever, Weasley.”

George sighs and leans down to press a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I started over analyzing everything and I couldn’t tell what was real and what was going on in my head. You mean so much to me, and the thought of losing you made me go even crazier.” George pauses so he can tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I should have written to you and at least let you know I was okay, I’m sorry for that. But this is a conversation I didn’t want to have in a letter. I wanted to be able to see you and hold you.”

“It’s okay, George. I guess when we started dating there was some stuff we should have talked about that we kind of just ignored and that’s partially my fault. I just tried to integrate you into my life that already existed, when in reality we should have started something new together,” Y/N explains, squeezing his hands. “Adrian and I are closer than normal friends, and I can see why that would concern you. Same thing with the sweater. Of course, you’d want me to wear yours, I shouldn’t have even questioned it. I’m sorry, George. I’ll try and do better too, okay? Because I love you and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I love you so, so much.  And I’ve been really shit at showing it. I meant what I said that night too, Y/N. Forever.” George leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, melting when she returns it. “I don’t deserve you.” George kisses her again, winding his arms around her. “Alright, I think now is the perfect time to give you your Christmas present.”

Y/N holds her hands out, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Come on then, let’s see what you got me!”

George rolls his eyes playfully and takes a long black box out of his jacket pocket. “I do want to preface this by saying that I bought this ages ago before I got your present in the mail, and they do say great minds think alike.”

“You got me a tea pot pin too?” she teases, taking the box from George. A quiet gasp leaves her lips as she opens the box, and she gives George a small smile. “George it’s perfect.” Inside the box is a delicate silver chain with two charms attached. One is in the shape of the letter G and the other is a teapot. “Although I find it quite funny that we both got each other teapot related items.”

“Well that’s the night it all began, isn’t it?” George ask as he takes the box from Y/N. He grabs the necklace and motions for her to turn around so he can put it on her. “After that detention I knew I couldn’t live without you, Y/N. Listening to you talk about wanting to be a healer, and how you wanted to change the world, it made me see you differently. Made me start to fall in love with you. Besides I don’t think I could find a charm of a secret passageway.”

Y/N giggles, and as soon as the necklace is on Y/N turns around and pulls George into a kiss, her hand coming up to grip the charms tightly. When George starts to pull away Y/N surges forward to keep their lips pressed together for a few extra moments. “I love you, George. Thank you.”

“Course, darling. Anything for you.” George pulls Y/N into his chest and presses a kiss to the top of her head, the anger he’s felt for so long finally quieting down.

[travistheaussie]

Netflix and Chill

Chris Jamal EvansxBlack!Reader

Warnings: slight degredation, breeding kink, dirty talk, m receiving, fingering, creampie, Chris being a little freak 

A/N: I have been absolute trash at getting fics out and to the people that bother reading, I apologize! Being an adult sucks absolute ass. Anyways, I’ve decided to write about Chris Jamal Evans because why not? Hope you enjoy!

==============================================================

You’d been swiping left and right on Tinder for what seemed like hours as you sat on your couch on an uneventful Saturday evening. You’d matched with quite a few men, but somehow you got the ones that were trying for a relationship. How does that even happen? Tinder was supposed to be for hookups. You weren’t about that life right now. What you were looking for was a good, decent fuck. Maybe a wine and dine beforehand, but that wasn’t really all that important. You need dick and you were going to get it tonight one way or the other to save you from a boring night of staring at the TV.

Just then, you stumbled upon the profile of a guy named Chris. You swiped through his pictures and instantly became soaked by the sight of him. They were typical fuckboy pictures, but you could care less because this man was fine. Especially with the buzzed hair and slight stubble he had going on. His eyes were to die for too. They were the most beautiful shade of blue you had ever seen. You couldn’t even get started on his body. It was perfect. The tattoos that covered his torso made you want to lick all all over him. Fuck, you had to have him and you prayed that you guys would match.

After a few more minutes of gawking, you finally swiped right, and thank the Lord, you two matched. You went over to the message section on the app and saw bubbles pop up on screen. The two of you went over the basic introductions before Chris started getting a little bold. He asked for your phone number and when you gave it to him, he instantly called.

“What’s up, girl?” He greeted.

“Chillin’ at home, bored as fuck. What you getting into?” You asked. 

“About to kick back and watch a movie. Be nice if I had some company.”

“Oh really?” You smirked. “Are you implying that you want to Netflix and Chill?”

He let out a husky laugh. “I guess I am. You game?”

Did he even have to ask? Of course you were. You wanted to get in his pants bad. You told him to text you his address before hanging up to get ready. You went to your bedroom and put on a pair of Nike joggers and a cropped hoodie then toed on a pair of slides. Then you went to the bathroom to make sure you hair was done up right. You skipped on makeup since you were just going over to “watch a movie”. You didn’t wear much anyhow since you didn’t really feel the need for it most days. You were comfortable in your own skin. 

Once he sent his address, you hopped in the car and made the twenty minute drive to his place. You pulled up to his house and parked your car in the driveway then made your way up to the door. You knocked and the door swung open. Somehow, you got even more aroused at seeing this man in person. He wore nothing but a pair of loose sweats and a tight wifebeater. His arms were bulging as he held onto the doorway and you swear you were salivating at the view.

Chris gave you a once over, biting his lip as he did so, before looking into your eyes, a smile on his face. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hey, yourself.” You replied. “You gonna let me in or what?”

“My apologies, darlin’.” He stepped aside. “Come right in.”

You entered his home and looked around when you went through the foyer. It was your basic bachelor pad, but it was thankfully clean. The living room had a big couch and a giant flat screen mounted on the wall. There were a couple empty beer cans on the coffee table along with some chew toys littered across the floor.

You heard claws scraping against the wood floor and all of a sudden, a dog was jumping all over you. You giggled and began petting him behind the ears.

“I see you met Dodger.” Chris said. 

“He’s adorable.” You smiled, watching as Dodger made his way over to Chris.

Chris leaned down patted him on his side. “Too bad he can’t stick around to watch the movie with us. It’s his bedtime and I think we’ll be a little too busy to pay attention to him. Dodger, bedtime!”

Dodger obediently made his way upstairs, but not without grabbing a stuffed lion to take with him.You turned to Chris, a sly smile on your face. “Oh, we’ll be too busy, will we?”

“Yeah, I think we will.” Chris said huskily. “Go ahead and pick a movie. I’m gonna grab some beers.”

You settled in on the couch and started surfing through Netflix while Chris disappeared into the kitchen. Once he returned, you had a movie picked out and waited for him to get situated. He took a seat right next to you and handed you a beer, which you gladly took. 

“You ready?” You asked, looking up the bigger man.

Chris sunk down in his seat and widened his legs, pretty much manspreading beside you. He took a swig of his drink before responding. “Fire it up, girl.”

After pressing play, you put the remote to the side and relaxed into the couch, nursing your beer. The two of you sat in comfortable silence watching the film for the next thirty minutes. Then you noticed Chris glancing over at you every now and again. And you knew exactly what that meant so you decided to call him out on it.

“Why you keep looking over at me?” You smirked. 

“What you mean?” He questioned, looking you up and down seductively, licking his lips.

“You keep turning your head over here and the way you looking at me right now makes me think you’re about to do something.”

Chris chuckled, turning back to the TV for a second before looking back at you. “Oh yeah? What do you think I’m gonna do, huh?”

“I don’t know, Chris. You tell me.” You replied.

“I wanna see what’s under that hoodie.” He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, and pulled your hoodie off. You wore nothing but a bra underneath. Chris groaned and scooted even closer to you before wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss. His tongue swiped across your lower lip and you moaned, grabbing his shoulders. You opened your mouth, inviting him in, and he intertwined his tongue with yours. The kiss was rough, sloppy, and oh so hot, and now your panties were completely drenched. God, this man could kiss like no other. 

Chris grabbed your hand and placed it over his crotch. You internally gasped at the feeling of his thick cock. It felt like a monster and you were dying to see it. You stroked him through his sweats and Chris moaned into the kiss, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it. You broke the kiss and whimpered quietly at the feeling of his hand on you. He sat back with a hiss, moving his hand from your breast to your clothed center as he watched you stroke him. 

“Goddamn, baby.” He breathed, rubbing his thick fingers over your pussy. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

“What about you?” You asked.

He sat up and pulled off the wifebeater he wore then pulled his sweats down to his thighs, letting his cock spring out, already leaking precum. Taking himself in hand, he stroked himself slowly, watching you as you began to rid yourself of the rest of your clothes. Once you were completely naked, Chris cursed under his breath and reached out with his free hand to touch you. His hand stroked up your tummy before reaching your breasts, tweaking your nipples. You moaned out and took his balls in your hand, kneading them softly. Chris groaned, widening his legs more, then leaned over and kissed you again.

“You gonna suck Daddy’s dick?” He said on your lips between kisses.

Oh shit. How did he know you had a daddy kink? That was your biggest weakness and him just saying the word had you creating a puddle underneath you. You whimpered and nodded your head then sank to your knees between his thick legs. You grabbed his cock and licked the tip then went to the other side, soaking him in your spit. Chris moaned, placing his hand on the back of your neck. 

“Don’t tease, baby. I’ve been hard since you walked in the door.” He said huskily, eyes heavily lidded. “Take me in your mouth like a good girl.”

You obeyed and started sucking him in earnest and what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, you stroked in a twisting motion, causing Chris to twitch slightly. You pulled off of him and went lower, sucking his big balls into your mouth while you continued jerking him.

“Just like that, babygirl. Fuck, you feel so good.” He moaned out. “Keep sucking my balls.”

You felt his hand fall away from your neck and you looked up at him to see his head leaned back and eyes shut. You could tell he was getting close. He was breathing heavy and his legs were starting to shake a bit. When you started sucking on his tip again, he grunted and his hips jerked up. Soon, he was pushing you off him.

“Don’t wanna cum yet.” He panted, standing on slightly shaky legs. “Lay down on the couch.”

You did as you were told and lied back against the couch, your head resting against the arm. You watched Chris’s cock swing between his legs as pried yours open and kneeled between them. He looked down at your soaked pussy and hummed lowly biting his lower lip.

“Such a pretty little pussy.” He said before licking his fingers and rubbing your clit. “Can’t wait to get my cock in there.”

You moaned loudly, both at his fingers and his words. “I want you in me, Daddy.”

“Yeah? You want me in there?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded then threw your head back when he inserted two of his fingers.

“Gotta stretch you out first, baby. You’re so fuckin’ tight.” His other hand went down to lazily stroke himself while he fingered you. “Wanna wreck this little pussy so bad though. Make your toes curl.”

His dirty talk got you so close to the edge, but before you could cum, Chris pulled his fingers out of you. He placed his free hand on your knee and just stared down at you while he continued stroking himself. Your pussy clenched around nothing and he groaned at the sight. You brought your hands up to your tits, squeezing them and rolling your nipples with your fingers.

He looked up at your chest and you could swear his blue eyes got darker. “Fuck, baby. You ready for Daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You whimpered. “Want your fat cock in me.”

Chris grabbed the backs of your knees and pushed them up to your chest before tapping his cock against your folds then sliding in to the hilt. You gasped and your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of being so full. He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move. He moved slowly at a first, dragging his cock out then slamming in deep, making you cry out. 

“Harder, Daddy.” You gasped, getting close again.

“Oh yeah. Daddy’s about to tear you up.” That was all he needed to hear before he started fucking into you harder.

His balls slapped against your ass as he roughly pounded in you and you were close to your climax. When he started hitting your spot, you stiffened and let go, soaking his cock in your juices. Chris let out a wanton groan at the sight of you cumming all over his dick, twitching inside of you. 

“Fuck, you’re so nasty.” He panted. “I fuckin’ love it. Want you to cum again.”

You had never cum that hard so quick before. He was touching places inside you that nobody has ever reached. Chris was stroking into you so deep and hard and with the way he was rolling his hips around as he did so was getting you close again. He let go of your legs and leaned over you, wrapping a hand around your neck and the grabbed your hair, pulling slightly. He bent down and sealed his lips over yours, groaning into your mouth as he kept the same pace. You ran your hands through his buzzed hair, scratching at his scalp. Then your hands went to his chest, rubbing over his nipples and down his hairy torso, feeling his abs contract when you went lower.

“You like that dick?” He pulled away from the kiss, looking into your eyes. “Tell me you like it, bitch.”

This man was going to fucking ruin you. “I love it, Daddy. Love that big dick pounding me!”

“You’re gonna cum on this fuckin’ dick again, yeah? Soak Daddy with your pussy juice?” He said lowly, biting your lip.

You eagerly nodded, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he started grinding his hips into you. “I’m so close, Daddy!”

“Cum for Daddy, bitch. Cum all over me.” He demanded, reaching down to rub your throbbing clit.

Your entire body stiffened, hitting your peak once again. Chris watched as you shook beneath him and his rhythm began to falter. He started grinding into sloppily, chasing his own release.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum.” He moaned, looking into your eyes. “You on birth control?”

You nodded lazily as you scratched at his scalp. “Put it in me.”

Chris let out a shuddering pant. “Oh, I’m gonna fill this pussy up. Tell me you want it, baby. Tell me.”

“Give me that load, Daddy. Want you to fill me up with that hot cum.” You urged, bringing his head down to lick at his neck.

He moaned loudly in your ear and laid down on top of you, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you against him. With every thrust, he was letting out these hot little grunts that had your pussy squeezing him tight. That sent him over the edge and with a few more deep thrusts, he stilled inside you. You could feel his cock twitching intensely inside you as he filled you with his hot load. Chris pulled you tighter against him, holding you tight. 

After a few moments of him catching his breath, he slowly pulled away from you and sat up, looking down at where you two were joined. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

You looked down and laughed softly at the mess you both made. Chris carefully pulled out of you and groaned when he saw his cum leaking out of you. He leaned over and grabbed his wifebeater and began to wipe you off before tossing it to the side and laying back on the other side of the couch, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“That was amazing.” He commented, looking over at you. “You got really good pussy.”

“Well, thank you.” You replied while redressing.

Chris grabbed his sweats and put them back on before grabbing his beer and taking a sip. He watched you get dressed and pull on your shoes. “Hopefully this isn’t the only time we hook up.”

“Isn’t that what Tinder is for? One time hookups?” You questioned.

“I mean, yeah. Ninety-nine percent of the time.” He responded. “But I’d like this to happen again.”

You laughed. “Oh, god. Please tell me you haven’t caught feelings already, Christopher.”

“I don’t catch feelings, alright?” He smirked. “I do, however, refuse to fuck someone like you just once.”

You giggled, shaking your head, before making your way toward the door with Chris in tow. He opened it for you and you stepped out onto the porch. You turned back to him, catching the man checking you out once again.

“Seriously, let me know if you need some dick again. I’m always down.” He smirked.

“I might. Don’t be blowing up my phone though. Shit’s annoying.” You said.

“I won’t.” He stepped forward and gave you peck on the lips. “Be careful gettin’ home, alright?”

“I will.”

With that, you made your way to your car and got into the driver’s seat. You sat back and thought about what just transpired. Chris was very dangerous, and while you haven’t caught feelings, you were definitely sprung. 

A/N: This is probably shit, but please let me know if you liked it! Reblog, make a note, whatever!

[nincompoopydoo]

DEBRIS AND MISERY

SAME OLD LOKI ; PART 6 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.3k (oops) SUMMARY: You find yourself venturing deeper into finding the Loki variant on the loose with the help of Mobius and Loki while maintaining your temper around the God of mischief and fighting with your own demons. A/N: Downtime apparently lasted for more than a week. I had absolutely no motivation to write but I eventually came around. There’s alot going on in this. Please tell me what you think, what you love, hate and look forward to. Thank you so much for showing so much love to d&m. gif from this gifset by @sersi WARNINGS: Swearing. Imagery relating to death (i think?). You and Loki’s relationship fluctuating like the goddamn economy. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

Blue. Your flight suit is blue.

Your eyes sting with worry, ticking to a pair of hands buckling the straps that lay across your chest. A man secures it tightly, forcing your back against the cockpit chair. Your gaze drifts to the concentric steel rings of yellow, red, and white that stretch overhead and around you—being suspended within a 3-axis gimbal sends another churning sensation within your abdomen.

You hear a voice. It courses through the room and vibrates within your ears like fluttering echoes in a tunnel. It’s a man. He calls out your name from below.

“You ready?”

In your periphery, you see him, tall with slicked-back hair, standing with other men that adorn similar flight suits of blue. You nod, inhaling deeply as your hands reach for the controls. Suddenly, a metallic clang echoes through the room and the machine whirrs to life. The rings begin spinning in tandem, tossing your body in all directions. Your grip tightens around the controls, clicking with every push and pull as you struggle to analyze the spin. But, the machine spins faster.

Faster and faster and faster.

The machine continues to whirr. Your hands are still shifting the controls.

Faster and faster and faster.

Your eyes begin to droop, nausea taking hold of your body.

Faster and faster and faster.

You only hear your breaths; every inhale and exhale—they're loud.

Faster and faster and faster.

Too fast.

Stop.

...

Click. Click. Click.

Footsteps. Not the clicks of the controls. You hear them clicking against tile floors from afar. From darkness, your eyes meet the color brown, shiny and polished—it’s wooden. The sound of the vast building’s acoustics hum in tune with the occasional chatter and echoing thump. You recognize the ambiance and it comforts your hasty thoughts as your brain tries to wreck itself in comprehending your current surroundings.

It’s one of those dreams again. The ones that kept you awake at night since the Sakaar incident, as if reliving the memories of another life. It isn’t yours but the realism to it makes it so complex that your brain cannot even comprehend the experiences during these dreams that occur.

To see, touch, hear, smell, and taste. Do dreams exceed the limit of disconnection and logic? Are dreams to be so immersive that it feels more like a memory, an echo of the past?

Through the turmoil of parsing between what’s real and what’s not, a tap on your shoulder hauls you back to reality. You turn to see Mobius, looking ridiculously exhilarated. Behind him lingers an amused Loki, hands tugging into the pockets of his jacket. The analyst says your name with a tone of equal exuberance to his manner.

“I thought I’d find you here. Do you always sleep at the archives?”

You snort, seizing yourself up as you wipe your face with your palm in hopes of feeling slightly more awake and alive than you were before. “No. Sometimes, I sleep at my desk too.”

Exhausted and sarcastic. Typical you.

Mobius rounds the table to sit beside you, gesturing Loki to his previous spot before he got up and ran away from you without any explanation. He shoots you a smile, lips pressed together, almost hesitant to sit across from you. You watch him through narrowed eyes as you address him with folded arms. “And here you are, back here again.”

Loki cannot fight the growing grin upon his lips, knowing all too well that you're referring to how he led you into an unnecessary chase down the corridors of the TVA for the sake of his entertainment. Well, it was not unnecessary. Things were turning out to be a bore and with the sudden thought of a proposition to help with his case, it doesn’t mean he has to drag out the fun of irritating the hell out of everyone else.

And you are not a bore.

-

“Loki! Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

You’re outright screaming at him but his long legs only stride faster than yours could handle, slumber still clinging to your face like a thick, waxen mask. He’s so quick, weaving through tangerine hallways, skidding across the tiled floors.

He saunters down the hall with quick feet but doesn’t sprint, clever enough not to draw any attention.

He ought to answer you. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he flashes you a cheeky smile. He swears he saw flames burning in your eyes for a moment.

As you wind another corner, you already see him making one last quick dart through the elevator doors that slide open as it dings unceremoniously. Through your wide-eyed gaze, you signal him with eyes that carry a warning.

“Don’t you dare close that fucking door.” you snarl, voice booming from down the hallway and so does the clicking of the heels of your Oxford shoes as you march towards him like you’re on the hunt for prey.

Loki jams his finger onto the button to close the doors, unable to wipe off his grin. “Don’t you trust me?” is all he says to you, sending you a wink through the closing gap of the elevator doors as he raises his palm to wave you farewell.

-

You decided Loki wasn’t worth the time he has already taken from your assigned paperwork. So, you returned to your desk with a trace of bitterness in your tongue while attempting to suppress the regret for actually feeling sorry for Loki. Only because you know how it is like to be alone.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. He makes you think he is capable of change, capable of compassion. He makes you think he cares from the way he looks at you with those eyes that flicker the spark of hope in you. This Loki is the same old Loki.

Well, maybe the one in Sakaar had a good chance of earning your trust. But that’s gone now.

You shift in your seat, elbows now leaning against the edge of the table. “And to answer your question, no. I do not trust you. And I never will.”

Famous last words of the variant turned analyst.

Nobody trusts you either.

Except for the grey-haired analyst with the obsession for jet skis and you never understood why. Maybe, it’s because you’re the only one who is willing to put up with his ramblings.

Mobius eyes you and Loki’s interaction as the two of you seem to fall into the rhythm of making things even more complex than it appears. It's all part of his grand plan. Mobius knows you well enough to know you are possibly enjoying Loki's company no matter how much he irritates you. And Loki, it's clear how he admires you and how you constantly surprise him every time he crosses paths with you.

“What would I ever do without your trust?” the God sneers, each articulation of every word wrapped in mockery paired with dramatically placing his hand to his heart. Your eye twitches, the spitfire of your personality ready to fire back with a probable nasty insult. Yet, Mobius places his hand on your shoulder, while the other outstretched towards Loki as if trying to keep the two of you apart.

“Okay, okay. No need to get all riled up now. We only just had a breakthrough in the case, and I’m not letting you kill each other just yet.”

Your anger seems to immediately wash away, replaced by curiosity. You blink at your colleague. “Breakthrough?”

“Yes, and it was surprisingly Loki’s theory. Now—”

“Why do I smell...sulfur?”

You cut his sentence short as a strong whiff of a reeked scent began to descend upon you, billowing in the air. You inhale deeply, brows furrowing in concentration and confusion. An overpowering scent of a decaying body, faint but strong enough to seem out of the ordinary. The archives never smell rotten, always floor polish. Mobius and Loki share a look. Mobius is the one to speak up, attempting to distract you from your sudden strong sense of smell. “Sulfur? What, like when there’s a demonic manifestation? I mean, we are in the presence of Loki—”

“You went to Pompeii, didn’t you?”

In all of the time he has spent with Mobius who had a constant laid-back and confident nature to him, he has never seen him so red in the face. As the situation unfolds, he wonders why Mobius has made it a point to hide that information with so much eagerness which now has proved to be useless. You’re not only intelligent but also quick—only in terms of the mind rather than your physical capabilities.

You can hardly run, but your brain outshines everyone else he has met in the TVA.

Mobius is now waiting for the imminent chaos and mayhem you’re about to bring. You’re going to call him insane like every other time he has suggested an out-of-the-ordinary idea. Causing a scene is one of your talents. He has his hand on your shoulder again.

“You hate Pompeii, Mobius. Why the hell would bring him—Wait.” Your eyes are wide and blinking. “You went to Pompeii. Alone. I know that from the look on your faces. Which means no reset charge...No Nexus event.” You pause, pursing your lips. Then, you avert your gaze to Loki who watches you curiously. “Are you suggesting the variant is hiding in apocalypses?”

Mobius’ laugh comes off like a puff of air. He pats you on the back like a proud uncle. “Back on the game, Agent!”

Loki is slightly impressed. Only slightly.

“Okay, you two stay here. I’ll go get the files. Great work, you two.” Mobius gestures to the both of you with an outstretched index finger, grin so wide as he scurries off. Mobius loves a good case, especially when there’s a breakthrough. And with you finally familiarizing yourself with working together with Loki, everything is finally starting to look up.

The two of you end up finding each other’s gaze and for the first time, you smile at him. It’s small but genuine.

“You know you could have told me.”

“I would have, but you don’t trust me, remember?”

You hum, raising a brow. “And running away was supposed to gain my trust?”

Loki chuckles, eyes flicking to the table. “I never said anything about gaining your trust.”

Your smile grows wider, and Loki decides how he prefers you like this—relaxed and amused.

He oddly sees his mother in you. It’s the way you look at him. Like you know him.

Right, you have met him. Once.

“What was I like? The one you met at Sakaar.”

You blink, slightly taken aback by his sudden question that hasn’t got to do with insinuating you.

“The same as you—barely tolerable,” you say tightly, heaving a sharp exhale. ”Just…a lot sadder.”

You hadn’t mentioned how he willingly helped escape your execution because a part of you still believes it all to be a lie. The TVA has your complete fidelity but ever since the Sakaar incident, your trust in the way the system works has been swayed. After years of being trapped in your mind, the question of whether your capabilities in logic have been damaged due to loneliness still begs. Judge Renslayer believes in your incompetence but you believe she hides a secret about the Time Keepers.

The three beings, creator of the TVA, personally convicted you as innocent, allowing you to maintain your job. Nothing of this makes sense.

Maybe Judge Renslayer lost all her faith in you, her second-best analyst because your Nexus event relates to Loki. The one variant that has been causing havoc to the Sacred Timeline. And this Loki, the one that seems to be very curious about your place in the TVA and the Time Keepers, is no different than the others.

You find yourself feeling an uncalled sense of sadness that dwells in your chest at the thought of leaving the only friendship you secretly wished to have maintained back at Sakaar. Before you let yourself fall into the abyss of melancholic wishful thinking, you swiftly direct the conversation elsewhere.

"I’m sorry Mobius referred to you as the devil,” you say coyly. “You really aren’t.”

Loki, who seems to catch on with the sarcastic tone of your voice, leans farther into his seat. “Really?”

A smirk returns to your face. “You're worse than the devil." He snorts, noticing the vague hint of crimson growing upon your cheeks and how your eyes seem to crinkle a little more than usual.

He finds himself swallowing under your stare, fiddling his fingers in an attempt to calm his sudden erratic heartbeat. A stutter under your now kind gaze—no one ever stares at him with a smile. "You are not the first to say that."

There’s another pause; Loki’s face is set with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You feel a pang of guilt in your chest in remembrance of how you’re not the first to have treated him the way you did. He’s dangerous but, there’s no reason for animosity. Yet, it all boils down to the lives he has willingly taken. It doesn’t differentiate him from the rest of the TVA.

Mysterious variant.

The devil is always in the details.

Strangely, the work of the devil may prove to be useful in times of cul-de-sacs as an idea comes to mind. “I think...I think I know where you’re at right now.” Your voice is light, distracted by your now running thoughts. You’re on your feet, chair squeaking as you push it back. Your pen is in your grasp and you wave it in the air, reflecting the gears that turn at high speed within your brain.

Frankly, you’re not making any sense. Loki furrows his brows, slowly standing. “What do you mean? I’m right here—"

“No. The other one. The variant. And it has to do with gum.”

You’re still not making sense and it’s clear that in your eyes, he is invisible. You’re the only one in that frenzied mind of yours.

“What?”

You don’t answer him, feet quickly bringing you down the passageway along the vast rows of shelves that stretch along with the floor’s pristine balcony of white and the two of you are back to playing chase and run. Only this time, the roles are reversed.

-

Mission Haven Hills: not successful.

Really not successful. Far from successful.

You witnessed the doom of bombing the Sacred Timeline, firsthand. Employees scramble at the controls as you watch the screen that looms over the control room. What was once a single line, running along with time has now grown like a tree with fruits of chaos, caused by Nexus events scattered across time and places.

You wished the dust would settle and this was all simply a dream but you realize this was his plan all along.

Bomb the timeline. Distract the TVA.

There is one thing you know about Loki. He is moved by revenge and resentment.

As if you possess some sort of telepsychic powers, a part of you feels that danger itself is within the vicinity of the TVA. The variant is here, you just know it.

You hope Mobius is okay.

Scurrying down the winding hallways, past the hurried time hunters, and past the time theaters, you find yourself heading towards the golden doors of the Time Keepers’ chambers. In a time of uncertainty, your gut is your only source of guidance.

At the end of the hallway, you see bodies on the ground, nearly lifeless—time hunters, either unarmed or batons missing. You plucked one of the sizzling batons from the ground as you cautiously stepped around the laying bodies. You clutch it tightly to calm the blood rushing to your head, pounding along with your heartbeat as you take on the venture into the foyer of the grand chambers with secrets not wanting to be unveiled.

You round the corner, following the wooden panels for walls laid along the entrance. The glowing end of the baton within your grasp reflects off the black porcelain tiles beneath your careful feet. You hear voices, grunts, and shouting as if in combat.

Then, you see them. Loki in his variant jacket and a woman with locks of blonde and streaks of black. She adorns a headpiece of golden horns—one broken off.

Isn't Loki supposed to be at Haven Hills?

Recognizing the presence of another, the two turn to you, daggers still held to each other's throats. Loki eyes you with wide eyes, a silent plea whether to help or stand down, you’re unsure. Your gaze shifts to the woman once more who watches you with an equal resemblance to the other.

Then, it hits you. You recognize the dark emerald cloak she wears. You know exactly who she is. You just never thought it would be a she.

“You!” Your exclamation is bitter, and it’s directed towards the woman who seems to be strangely expectant of your remark as if she already knows who you are. She is L1190, a Loki variant. The one who slashed you with the TVA’s baton, scaring your left cheek. The one who hauled you through the time door and left you stranded in Sakaar for thousands of years.

You know exactly what she has done. She knows what she has done.

“You did this to me!” you gesture to the scar on your left cheek, eyes fixated solely on her, nearing the two with caution. You’re angry. Very angry. All pent-up rage begging to be set free.

Before Loki could even perceive the current situation he landed in between two women who very much want him dead, you’re already swinging the baton to her face with full force but she blocks it with her sword but slightly staggers in her step. You glare at her. She seems a little surprised. In an instant, you take a step back and go for another strike to her rib, but she blocks you again, sliding away and dodging your hit by a mere second. You growl out of frustration, seething through your teeth, and without hesitation, you strike again. The fight goes on—strike, block, strike, dodge. And with every blow, your intensity escalates, each a little harder than the one before. Loki stands there, watching, speechless and frozen.

You strike again, the baton crackling less than an inch away from her face but she dodges just in time, swinging her sword across your face. It grazes your cheek, now a gash of crimson on top of your scar, and with the sudden blow of searing pain, you lose your balance.

The variant spins into a kick that sweeps your legs out from under, knocking you hard onto the ground. The baton rolls out from your grip. Your hand flies to the gash, trickling with blood.

“Hey!”

The brawl comes to a halt. You seize yourself up from the ground, back and head aching, turning to see Judge Renslayer accompanied by two hunters, batons held up in defense position. You were about to reach for your own that was a stretch away when suddenly, you felt a hand grip you by the collar, hauling you to your knees. Her sword held to your neck.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her.”

“Go for it.”

Your eyes are wide in shock, all anger towards the variant now turning into this churning feeling of betrayal that resides within your abdomen. Judge Renslayer doesn’t look at you, focus fixated on the two variants—it’s like you’re not even there.

The three start to charge towards you and you involuntarily shut your eyes. Then, as quick as a rattlesnake, Loki grabs the tempad hung at her waist and sends the three of you falling through the ground.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. Now, with your back landing hard on top of him, all you could think about is wanting to strangle him to death.

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

@mystoragehatesme

@the-maroon-panda

@kashasenpai

[sunnypogue]

rafe plays college hockey (headcanon)

for all y’all who requested college hockey rafe. i’m just tryna manifest something over here.

warning: cursing, drinking. the sunnypogue special.

y’all met because of hockey.

okay actually y’all technically met because of your 8 am american lit seminar, but the only reason y’all spoke to each other was because of hockey

it was 7:57 am on a Thursday, you had a hangover from your weekly wine wednesday event (which always devolved into walking two streets over to your favorite bar, ordering a round of shots, and getting absolutely shitcanned), and your big ass mouth got you in trouble when you sat down.

“we have a hockey team?” you whisper-yelled, nudging your equally hungover friend as you pointed towards the sweatshirt in front of you

your friend laughed as the guy in said sweatshirt turned around (and his friend next to him, also wearing a UAH HOCKEY hoodie). “your reading comprehension is off the charts.”

you gaped, half embarrassed, half enraged - “okay, well don’t blame me for being surprised - it’s alabama for christ sake.”

“we’re like the token school in the south with a hockey team - how did you not know that?”

you, refusing to back down, argued with him until your professor came in - he got the last word, “alright, well we have a game tomorrow night. might be time for you to branch out and try new things outside of whiskey row.”

(you waited until he turned around before flushing and quietly asking your friend if you still smelled like booze - her answer was an unequivocal yes.)

anyways, that’s how you found yourself at a hockey game, alone, in huntsville, alabama, on a warm october night.

you were NOT dressed for the occasion (fully planning on leaving at whenever it was they took a break to meet your friends at whiskey row) rocking a little flowy halter and high waisted flares - instantly freezing your ass off as you sat on a bleacher towards the back.

he caught your eye immediately, one of the taller ones on the ice, “cameron 19” sitting on his broad shoulders, bucket loosely clasped as he skated around the ice

the game started quickly, and despite your shivering, you rather enjoyed yourself, picking up the cues on when to cheer (this crowd LOVED it when the players checked each other) & when to boo (literally whenever the refs breathed) - it was fast, and fun, and that asshole from your lit class? he was GOOD.

you didn’t even realize you had stayed the whole game until the buzzer sounded, signaling a UAH win. the boys on the ice were hanging around, chatting with local fans - you pocketed your phone (which was blowing up with texts from your friends, wondering where you were) and mustered up the courage to go say hi to the guy from your class

he skated up towards the glass as he saw you descend down the bleachers - grinning and gesturing to shift over to the empty bench, where you wouldn’t be obstructed.

you hugged yourself. “good game, I guess.”

his tongue slid over his teeth before he smiled one hand holding his helmet, the other pushing his sweaty hair back. “you guess?”

you huffed. “I mean, I don’t know, it was my first hockey game and it was really fast and really cold and I didn’t know what the fuck was going on but...yeah. it was good.” you paused, before looking up at him through your lashes. “you were good.”

you rolled your eyes as you watched his chest puff up - men - before you continued, “well, I gotta go...I’m freezing my tits off in here. but thanks for the kinda-invite, I guess.”

you started to turn, when his voice called out “hey! you know, we have a game next week. same time - consider this a formal invitation.”

and that’s how you found yourself at your second-ever hockey game, dressed slightly more appropriate (although the girls were still perky - had to show a lil something), cheering rafe on (you finally got his name after he asked you for your number after class) as he sped down the ice like a wrecking ball, slamming opposing players into the boards, cross-checking when the refs weren’t looking his way.

you were dying - how had no one told you how hot this sport was? you actively had to stop yourself from biting your lip every time he hit someone.

and then he scored - and you were a goner.

after the game, you went to meet him (per his instructions) outside the locker room, friends in tow

“must have been your lucky day, ladies, this guy never goes bar down!” a guy you knew as “top” yelled, arm hooked around rafe, who was a little red in the face.

“gotta show off for your fan club, huh cameron?” a voice crowed from just inside the locker room.

���shut up, kelce.” he yelled, pushing the door shut, before turning your way. 

you gulped, looking up as he towered over you in his skates. “hey, uh, thanks for coming girls.”

your friends giggled, offering their congrats, before gracefully bowing out - “come meet us at whiskey, babes!”

you blushed. “you had a great game. and, uh, a great goal. y’all call them goals, right?”

he laughed, tugging on his gear. “yeah, we call them that. thanks again for coming. who knew you had two hockey games in you?”

you smacked him on the arm, before giving him a coy smile. “hey, after that performance, I think I have a couple more in me.”

he couldn’t ask you fast enough to come grab a bite to eat with him. - “I’ll be out in like, 10...like 8 minutes.” he said, already heading towards the door to the locker room. “just wait - wait here.”

(he was showered and changed in 7 minutes - you were impressed.)

he took you to a local mexican place, known for their beeritas and carne asada tacos - y’all sat there for three hours, getting to know each other.

(you learned he was from the outer banks, fell in love with hockey because of his mom’s dad - a huge rangers fan - and ended up at UAH because it was the only school that recruited in north carolina. he had two sisters - one he tolerated, one he adored - and had a pipe dream of making it to the show one day)

he offered you his sweatshirt (the same one that you had made fun of, that one morning) and drove you home (his huge hand spanning the width of your upper thigh, a light, possessive grip the whole ride)

you kissed him twice (once in the car, soft and sweet, and once on your front porch, where he pinned you to the wall and slipped his tongue into your mouth, long and slow, biting your lip when you finally went to pull away) and spent the rest of the night curled up in your bed, still wrapped up in his warm hoodie, thinking about him.

you kept thinking about him the whole weekend, exchanging texts (some naughty, some nice) & FaceTiming once (you were hammered in the whiskey bathrooms, whining about missing him - he laughed, before reminding you to be a good girl)

it wasn’t until your tuesday 8 am when you saw him again, chest going all warm at the sight of him (rocking a patagonia instead of his usual hockey hoodie, which was laying at the foot of your bed)

he offered you a wink as he walked in, making his way over to his seat, before turning and sliding something on your desk

it was a magnet, with the UAH hockey 2020-21 schedule on it, his face one of the centerpieces. you giggled.

“hey, didn’t know if you had heard, but UAH has a hockey team - wanna come to a game?”

[lemonpeter]

Tony and Peter being in a relationship, Skip shows up and blackmails Peter (he has pics/footage from when he took advantage of him). Even if it's not his fault, Peter doesn't want it to get out or Tony to know AT ALL and he's still very ashamed of it, so he does anything Skip tells him to, from paying him, to sending him pics to sexual favours. Maybe Tony finds out because Peter starts acting weird or something, maybe they argue cause he thinks he's cheating on him, peter continues going out 1/2

Secrets Kept pt 1

I’m not strictly following canon here, I’m going with that Skip messed with Peter all while he was growing up and Peter never told anyone. That being said, this is a dark fic and if that’s not your thing, scroll on. If it is, I hope everyone enjoys 💕

Extra note: this is going to be pt 1 because there’s still more plot I want to get out but my brain isn’t working to get it all out. So here’s pt 1 and pt 2 will be here. At some point. Because I absolutely loved writing this. Everything is just hard right now so plot is difficult. I’m really trying

Warnings: Skip Wescott, manipulation, blackmail, noncon (not explicit but mentioned more than once), just quite a bit of dark stuff, read at your own risk

————

Peter hadn’t really thought through going alone after he got a message about meeting someone at the lobby.

But he instantly wished he had brought Tony with him.

He could have sworn that his heart nearly stopped as he caught the sight of white blond hair tucked under a cap.

No. No no no.

The man turned around, grinning when he saw Peter. “Hey, Einstein. It’s been a while.”

“Skip,” Peter whispered. “Please, leave me alone.”

He knew that wouldn’t happen. The other man had clearly come on a mission. He wouldn’t have randomly showed back up in his life otherwise. Everything he did was calculated. In his own sick way.

Skip laughed, pulling an envelope out. “I think you’ll want to see what I have to offer first. Have anywhere more...secure that we could go?”

The younger man stared at the envelope, stomach turning. “Y-yeah. Just...follow me....”

He walked to the elevator, heart racing in his chest. He was in trouble. And he couldn’t even get Tony for help. There was no way that Tony could know anything about Skip. And what he’d done.

“Glad to know you know what’s good for you,” Skip murmured. “Smart boy. You always were the smartest person I’d ever met. Well- except for how naive you were.” He grinned.

“Shut up.” But there was no venom to it. Peter just sounded sad.

“Uh huh.”

The elevator dinged as the doors slid open, opening to Peter’s personal lab. The younger man walked out, hands shaking slightly as he moved to sit down. “What do you want, Skip?”

The man chuckled, opening the envelope and spreading photos across the table.

Peter’s stomach dropped.

The pictures all had Peter at various ages, doing various sexual acts with the older man. A few even had his face. No denying they were him.

“Now,” Skip started. “It would be a shame if daddy Stark saw these, huh?” He affectionately picked up one picture, showing it to the younger man. “Remember this?”

Peter looked at the picture, cheeks burning. “Yeah,” he whispered. It was one of the few pictures that showed his face. His cheeks and mouth were splattered with cum and he had clearly been crying. He had probably been sixteen at the time.

Skip chuckled. “I’ve missed that. I’ve missed my pretty Einstein. And you look just like you did in that picture,” he mused.

A nervous feeling began knotting up in Peter’s stomach. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like what Skip said next. Not that he liked any of it in the first place.

“So here’s my proposition,” he told him, setting the photo down. “You’re mine. I get what I want from you. Just like old times. And in exchange, no one will see these. Especially not Stark.”

Peter’s eyes squeezed shut and a tear slid down his cheek. He didn’t want to agree. He didn’t want to even entertain the thought of agreeing to such a sick thing. But he knew that he didn’t have a choice. “Okay,” he whispered. “Deal. Just please, he can’t see those.”

Skip smirked, tucking every photo back into the envelope before tucking it back into his jacket.

Well, almost every one. He snuck one into Peter’s pocket.

“Now that we have our deal, what better time than now to start?”

The younger man whined in protest, but the glint in Skip’s eyes made him know that there wasn’t a choice. There wasn’t ever a choice for him. So he slowly got down onto his knees, staring up at the blond as he unzipped his jeans.

Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long.

———

Peter had never been so glad that Tony had a meeting. That just meant that he didn’t have to come up with a story about why he had been crying or why his kisses definitely tasted like someone else’s dick.

He immediately went to the bathroom and threw up. Then he brushed his teeth to try and get the foul taste of Skip out of his mouth. But no matter how much scrubbing he did, he still felt dirty. Used.

He hadn’t missed the feeling.

By the time Tony got home he was all cleaned up and fixing dinner in order to distract himself.

“Hey, honey,” his boyfriend murmured, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “What’s for dinner?”

Peter tensed but quickly relaxed. It wasn’t Skip. It was Tony. He was safe and okay. “Making chi-chicken Parmesan. Wanted to try something different.”

“It smells amazing. You’re perfect.”

“Thank you, Tony.”

Peter felt so awful about what he did. He couldn’t believe that he had agreed to any of it. But he didn’t really have a choice.

So he just had to act like nothing was wrong. Tony couldn’t know about Skip.

They went to bed that night and Peter was pretty sure he had never felt so guilty.

———

Skip was relentless. He pulled Peter from spending time with Tony to make him send explicit pictures or videos, made him lie to Tony about buying things when really the money was going to Skip, made him meet up places whenever he wanted for sex.

Peter was being worn down so fast.

He couldn’t even keep up his normal and relaxed front with Tony. He couldn’t.

And his boyfriend definitely started noticing. He saw how tired Peter was all the time. And how often he disappeared with nothing but a weak lie to explain it.

That wasn’t how a relationship was supposed to work. And something was obviously up.

So he knew that he had to confront him about it.

He waited until Peter got home from his latest...well, wherever he went. The younger man came back a mess, a bruise on his cheek, eyes red, lips swollen, walking with a slight limp. The last two bits were honestly the most concerning.

“Peter?” He called gently. “What’s up? Where were you?”

He didn’t really want to know the answer. But he knew that he wouldn’t get the truth. So it didn’t matter to ask.

“Oh- I just had to do a quick. Patrol thing,” Peter lied, gingerly touching the bruising on his cheek. “You know how rough those bad guys can get.”

“Who was it this time?” He knew that Peter wouldn’t have a full story. Questions were key.

Peter bit the inside of his cheek. “No one important. Just some asshole burglar.”

“That managed to bruise you? And do...I don’t know, you look rough.”

The younger man winced. Great, that was exactly what he wanted to hear. He was hoping that he didn’t look too bad. Apparently that was too much to want. “Yeah, I was just off my game. It’s okay, though. I’ll heal.”

“Right....” Tony sighed. He had no idea how to bring it up. How to confront. This was his Peter, after all. He wanted to believe that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. “Peter, you wouldn’t lie to me, right?”

Peter froze in his tracks, tensed up instantly.

Great.

“No. Tony, why would I lie to you? I love you.”

The older man raked a hand through his hair, sighing softly. “I just- you’ve been so distant lately. Obviously something is going on. I just need you to tell me what.”

Peter slowly took off his coat, not noticing the photo that fell out of the pocket.

He had never realized that Skip put the picture there. The one with his face. The one where he commented how Peter still looked the same.

Peter didn’t notice that the picture was there until Tony started reaching for it. And he immediately knew what it was.

“And-“ Tony’s eyes followed to where the picture had fallen to the ground. He picked it up, ignoring Peter’s cries of protest.

It was definitely Peter. Face covered in cum. And it seemed to be recent.

Tony felt his heart being crushed as he stared at the picture. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Peter would never cheat on him. Peter loved him.

But there was the proof that said otherwise.

He finally looked to his boyfriend again, expression unable to hide his pure disbelief.

Peter had his arms wrapped tightly around himself and he was trembling furiously. He hadn’t known the picture was in his pocket. But he couldn’t tell Tony anything about it. He was stuck.

“Is this where you’ve been?” Tony asked, voice quiet. “Been fucking around? Peter-“ he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Peter, what the fuck has gotten into you? I can’t believe you.”

“Tony-“

“No. No, don’t do that. Did you cheat on me? It’s a yes or no question. I only want one word from you. Yes. Or. No?”

Peter broke down, crying harder. There was only one way that he could answer. Because it was the truth and he couldn’t lie to Tony. Even though all he had been doing for weeks had been lying. “Yes,” he choked out, covering his face.

Tony tried to ignore the broken glass he felt that replaced his heart. All his fears came true. Peter had really cheated on him. “Get out.”

“Tony- I can’t-“

“I said get out. You can get your shit in the morning while I’m at work. For tonight you need to leave.”

The younger man sobbed, grabbing his coat and looking around. Was there anything else he needed for the night? He didn’t know. All he could think about was Tony. And that everything was over.

All because of Skip.

He showed up to May’s an hour later, still unable to stop his crying. He was a wreck and he knew it.

She wasn’t sure what happened but knew better than to try to ask. But she did call Tony and leave a particularly nasty message about how she knew she never liked him and he had better watch his back.

Peter got settled in his own room, all curled up and finally calming down. When his phone vibrated with a text.

‘I need a couple pictures. A little inspiration please.’

Then a second message less than a minute later. ‘Actually make it a video.’

Peter stared at the screen for a moment, trying to fight off the tears that threatened to spill again. He couldn’t send Skip anything. He was with May. He couldn’t just hole himself up in the room suddenly. And there was the fact that the walls were so thin.

‘I can’t,’ Peter sent back, holding his breath. Skip didn’t respond well to rejection.

The three dots that signaled he was typing appeared and disappeared a couple of times before anything finally came through. ‘I have digitals of the pictures. I can easily send them with just a couple clicks.’

Even if they were broken up, Peter couldn’t have Tony know what all had happened to him. What was still going on. ‘Fine.’

He sat up to make sure that his door was locked, hands trembling as he started to undress himself after setting his phone up to record.

He so badly just wanted to be free.

———

Peter didn’t see Tony for a month after they broke up.

When he went to get his things Tony had been at work, as he said he would be. And he hadn’t been back to the tower since then. And he did his best to avoid any news about the billionaire.

So he stayed in the dark about it all. He barely even left the house. Except when Skip needed him for something.

Skip wasn’t happy when he found out. He was worried that the lack of contact with Stark would make Peter cave and refuse to do anything else. Plus he wouldn’t be able to get money any more from th arrangement.

But it became apparent quickly that Peter still loved Tony. And would continue to do whatever Skip asked to keep the pictures from making light.

Good.

[phantaloon-books]

Alright I got a couple comments asking for a continuation so here's part 2 of neil finding out the feds were onto smth when they recommended witness protection program

part 1

(Also thank you so much, I genuinely didn't expect such a good reception, everything I write is purely self indulgent)

Andrew is gonna fucking lose it. It's been over three weeks and not a single word from Neil fucking Josten. He's never hated him more, and this time he means it when he says hate. Actually he's not sure he hates himself or Neil more, but he feels hatred and rage and that's what matters. But of course the rabbit just left. Once a rabbit, always a rabbit.

He wanted so desperately to believe that, that Neil chose to run, that he chose to leave him them and keep running because that's what he knows best. Even if believing Neil chose to leave hurts him more than he'll ever admit, it's the best thing to believe. It's best to believe that Neil left than to believe something happened. It's best to believe Neil grew tired and bored of him them than to listen to the worry and dread Andrew's been feeling for months. It's best to believe Neil didn't want him than to let himself think of worst case scenarios.

But he can't make himself think that Neil left willingly and because he wanted to (and not it's not because he wants to believe that Neil wouldn't leave him). Neil would never run without his things, not without his stupid binder and money and contacts, not without clothes or any resources. If he ran away he would do it properly. He wouldn't leave with running clothes and his stupid flip phone. And most importantly Andrew knows that Neil has been restless lately. He's seen the way Neil checks every corner or every place, observes the people, looks for threats. He'd left those habits behind, so something has to have happened. Neil didn't just leave him.

The best thing is the other foxes aren't convinced Neil would run either. He had no one to run from, and he had a family now. And even if he was feeling overwhelmed or anxious, he would have come back. He wouldn't have taken three weeks. So they know, they know, Neil didn't leave because he wanted or needed to. And they're all anxious as hell about that bc if he didn't leave where is he?

They narrow it down eventually, and conclude that he got in a fight and is dead in a ditch somewhere, he had an accident in a coma in a hospital somewhere, he somehow got lost and/or lost his memory, someone killed him accidentally or not and his body is buried somewhere far away, or he's been taken. And Andrew cannot take the stress that he doesn't know where the fuck Neil is any longer.

He almost killed Kevin and several federal agents when Neil went missing for a few hours. This time, he hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but that hasn't stopped him from tearing every dorm apart and the stadium and the police station and the hospital and getting in fights with the FBI. He's desperate enough that he called Browning, hell, he's desperate enough that he contacted the Moriyamas, which wasn't a pleasant experience, but Ichirou had promised Neil protection and this definitely called for mafia intervention. So far neither the FBI or the Moriyamas had helped - yes they had, they informed him regularly that they were looking for Neil, but they had nothing, no clues no trails, and Andrew couldn't believe their incompetence, like for fucks sake the Moriyamas were yakuza, they ought to know what could have happened to one of their most valuable assets. And anyway if he ran, and wasn't taken, they for sure would be behind him, looking to kill him of course, but they still couldn't find him.

Andrew hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but he will soon if he doesn't find Neil, and he's sure he will start with himself. He can't remember the last time he slept or ate well, or went to exy practice, but he doesn't care. He can't care until he knows something. The lack of knowledge is driving him crazy. At this point knowing that Neil is dead and has been rotting in the countryside of Poland would be better than not knowing anything.

He hates this so much. He hates Neil for disappearing. He hates whoever went and got him. He hates the Moriyamas for not being able to find him and not keeping him safe in the first place. He hates himself for becoming so attached. He should have known better. He knew better. He knew it was a bad idea to feel all the things he feels for Neil, especially because it's Neil, the unpredictable rabbit. But he fell for the fake hope that they would make it, that he wouldn't be hurt again, that Neil would stay. He knew letting someone in again could kill him. He knows that if they don't find him, it will. He can't keep going like this. He was stupid enough to feel hopeful, but he won't be able to live once the hope dies.

He's laying in Neil's bed. He knows it's pathetic, but frankly he doesn't care. Everyday is worse than the last one. He's slipping and when he falls it's game over, he's going to make sure of that. If Neil genuinely cared, he'd be pissed at Andrew for even thinking about this. No he'd be upset, but not pissed, about the fact that he's considering taking his life over this. But he opened the door to feelings, and he won't be able to cope with them and he won't be able to close that door again. He's giving up.

Faint buzzing interrumps his thoughts. Someone's calling him. He couldn't stomach the runaway song that matched with Neil's but he couldn't stomach changing it either, so he leaves in on vibrate now. He looks at his screen. It's an unknown number. Most likely the FBI or the Moriyamas or a random police station ready to take him out of his misery and just tell him they found Neil's body. The code says it's from Minnesota. He considers not answering, but he might as well get over it.

He flips the phone open, "I only care about this if you are from the FBI or the literal mafia, so if you aren't from either, feel free to hang up." The other line stays silent for a few seconds, but when he looks at his phone, it's still going. The person didn't hang up. He doesn't have the patience for this. "I'm just gonna hang up then-"

"Andrew, wait." It's barely a hesitant whisper. The voice is absolutely shattered, rough and hoarse and very painful-sounding. There's wheezing too and labored breaths. But god. No matter how wrecked he sounds, he'd recognize that voice anywhere. In half a second he's up and falling from the bed in his haste, alert at last. He can't believe it. He wants to but he doesn't want to believe the call is real.

"Neil? Neil is that you?" He hates how vulnerable he sounds, but the thought dies quickly. There's no way, no way this is real. A sob breaks through the line, and oh it sounds so full of pain and fear.

"Andrew, I-I need you to stay safe. I don't know if they're coming for you, for the foxes. I need you to find a place where you're safe. Call Browning or Ich- the little Lord and make sure they can protect you guys for a while."

Okay that's definitely Neil even if he didn't answer the question. And Andrew's heart is going a thousand miles an hour, he doesn't feel his body anymore.

"Neil where are you? I'm coming to get you, I'll call Browning but where are you?"

"'Drew," another sob, and this one manages to break Andrew's walls more than than the whispered 'Drew', "promise me you'll stay safe, don't come looking for me, you can't take them down, please don't come looking for me."

The exhaustion and terror in his voice doesn't sit well with Andrew. The Neil he knows is not this. "For fucks sake Neil just tell me where in Minnesota you are, I'm coming to get you."

"No- no you're not, I'm not calling you because I want you to come. I just need you to promise you'll be safe."

"Neil who took you? Where are you? I can send the FBI or the japanese shits over, I swear to god I can send them to come get you if you just tell me where you are and who took you. I'll - I'll try my best to keep the others safe, but who took you?"

"I'm sorry, Andrew, I- I didn't mean to, please believe I didn't mean to leave, they- some of the Butcher's pals found me, I'm so sorry- I put all of you in danger again."

"Okay, that's something we can work with, now where are you Neil?"

"Andrew-" his breath hitches, he gasps and whimpers, "I'm so sorry, I have to go, I need to leave Andrew. Please stay safe. Look I- I love you okay? I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier."

"Neil wait don't hang up-"

And the line goes dead.

The world is falling apart, collapsing all around Andrew. He's numb but he feels encompassing terror. He can't feel a thing, he can't think. He was so close. It feels like Neil just slipped past his fingers, like he just let go of Neil and let him fall to the darkness. He thinks he may be falling too. He needs to call Browning. He does it instinctively, he doesn't register he has his phone to his ear until the FBI agents voice is calling to him. He also goes with what he's gonna say with the same instinct he pulled in Baltimore, knowing he can't mention certain mafia.

"Neil just called me, I have no idea from where, I have no idea how he got a hold of me, he didn't say a thing, he refused to say a thing other than we're in danger, the foxes, and that whoever took him will come for us- oh and apparently it's someone involved with the Butcher."

How he managed to be as apathetic and unattached to everything he said is beyond him. But whatever he says and whatever Browning says, FBI agents are now guarding them in the locker room of the Foxhole Court, with mattresses and mats laid down on the floor. and he doesn't know how they got here and he's cuffed all over again, but this time to Renee even if he doesn't remember being violent. Even the stupid rookies are here, looking extremely panicked and terrified despite most of them not giving a fuck that Neil was gone just hours ago. The other foxes - Neil's family - are pressing Andrew for answers, but he can't deal with anything at the moment.

He needs to call Ichirou too. That's the call that matters, because that's the call that can bring Neil home because he can't do that himself while cuffed to Renee and being guarded by the fucking FBI. He somehow convinces the agent to let him make a call, to his therapist he says, to grant him privacy even if that's utter bullshit. He's dragging Renee into the eye of the storm but oh well, why did they cuff him to her in the first place, it's not his fault. He calls the Moriyama representative he's been dealing with and thank Renee's god the woman answers.

"I need to talk to- to Lord Ichirou, it's about Neil Josten's whereabouts, I got important information about him." He can feel both the condescension from the other end of the line and poorly veiled shock from Renee. "I know where he is, I know about who's got him, I need to talk to Lord Moriyama."

He isn't sure how he managed it. He doesn't know how he convinced them to let them talk to their mafia boss, or how he's able to keep his cool for long enough to actually talk to the man himself. He thinks having Renee there, who asks no questions and keeps her hand on top of Andrew's with no hesitation, is part of the solution but he's not admitting that. Either or, he talks to Ichirou (he can't deny he's not terrified of messing up with the man who keeps Neil alive, but he's not admitting that either), reminds him of how Neil is important to the Moriyamas, both as an exy player and as a Wesninski, and how Neil, Kevin and Jean are loyal to the Moriyamas, hints at how Ichirou promised protection. He has perfect memory, but he will never remember how he convinced Ichirou Moriyama to send people to Minnesota and look for him all over the state and surrounding states, all he knows is that Ichirou stuck to his promise, all is good, he didn't fuck up.

Weeks pass again, nothing happens. There's no news from the Moriyamas, the FBI keeps telling him they're doing what they can. Andrew is done. No one came looking for them at least, which is nice bc they didn't die but it doesn't feel worth it when Neil wasn't back. He feels stupid for hoping he would come back safe and alive. The Moriyamas might as well have killed him for being such an inconvenience. Things are going to hell. Andrew was an idiot for falling so hard for Neil Josten. It was a mistake. He should have known better.

His anger is gone, and numbness has settled. It was becoming a habit for him to remain lying down most of the day. It was also becoming a habit for the foxes to take care of him when he did this. He can't even bother to shower if someone doesn't remind him every day, or eat, or drink water for that matter. He's a mess and he would be incredibly embarrassed if he cared a little, but he's slipping and he doesn't mind falling. Nothing is fine. Until it is.

It comes in the form of a text one morning, while he's lying on the couch in the living room. An unknown number again, New York code, and it only reads, "Threat has been dealt with - I". And what the fuck does that mean. It tells him absolutely nothing. If Ichirou bothered to text him he could at least be clear as to what the fuck that meant. Was Neil even alive? There is a soft knock at the door. Of course, someone bothers him when no other fox is at the dorm. They couldn't ditch every class to make sure Andrew didn't combust spontaneously.

He truly doesn't want to get up. He doesn't want to go answer the door. It's too much a bother. If it's someone important they'll either knock again aor shout for him to open up. He curls up in bed. He honestly wants to disappear. There's another knock, a little harder than the first. But there's no voice, no demand, no nothing. Maybe it's a Moriyama. Maybe he'll feel so disrespected or whatever he's gonna barge in and end his misery. Whatever. "Fuck off", he shouts from the couch, hoping for the best. There's another knock, for fuck's sake, can they just walk in already? Another, and he's up. Pissed and going for the door.

"Fucking hell, what do you want?" His anger is back with a passion, and he's practically stomping to the door, throwing it wide open, "Just barge through the fucking door, and get it over with-"

He has to stop exploding when people don't answer to him right away. Maybe he should work on his patience. Because frankly it has been working against him at the worst times. No it's not his fault. It's the idiot's fault for appearing at out nowhere and stealing his breath away. Everything is Neil Josten's fault.

"Hey Drew," said idiot's voice is impossibly more hoarse than when he called him before. Andrew can't tell if his heart is beating too fast or not at all. He thought he was a mess, but Neil looks like he's been through hell and back. Well, he's been through hell and back too many times before, but he's never looked this bad, and he was a mess after Evermore. His face is beaten so badly, so swollen, if he didn't know him and those stupidly blue eyes so well. Even his eyes are different, there's no spark, they're dull and hazy. He's wearing a large hoodie and sweatpants, so Andrew can't see the damage beyon his face, but at least his hands remain okay, there's no new damage. "Looks like I still have it in me to leave you speechless, huh."

Andrew takes a deep breath and he sighs. And his heart breaks. Neil. Neil. Neil is here. Andrew wants to craddle him and hold him and never let him go again. He doesn't care if it's soft, Neil is here. He raises his hands, frames Neil's face like he has before. He presses a hand to Neil's neck, looking for a pulse, and he finds it. He's alive.

"Neil," he breathes, and he feels. He feels. "You're alive, I thought, you-"

They're both silent. Andrew doesn't notice when Neil raises his hands, framing his own face. They've been here before.

"I'm not leaving you, I promised right? You're not getting rid of me that easily. "

He hates feeling this much, "You've got some explaining to do, but- it can wait."

"That's good yeah, because I'm not sure how much longer I can remain conscious and the Moriyamas weren't the best at patching everything up, so I'd really appreciate it if you call Abby."

He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth, so he guides Neil inside, holding on to his hand like a tether. Neil deflates, he grimaces as Andrew helps him to the couch. He's obviously hiding something below the clothes. Andrew stands to call Abby, but Neil grips his hand tightly. When Andrew looks up, he sees the fear and exhaustion he heard on the call weeks ago. Neil isn't able to keep up the act of being okay for long.

"Stay, pl- just," he looks away, and Andrew doesn't know how to feel about the pause, he didn't say the word, "can you stay?"

And he does. Things aren't fine. Neil is a mess. So is Andrew. They have to work through stuff. Andrew clearly has to work on the apparent dependancy issues. But they'll have time now. Neil is safe. He's alive and safe. He lost consciousness not long after he sat down, but Abby, Wymack and the foxes are on their way. They're not fine. But Neil is lying next to him, and he isn't gonna let him go again. They'll be fine.

[angelic-guardienne]

ardyn dumbification

this happened for no reason at all. not inspired by a dream or anything. just poof! woke up at 3 am and wrote it all in one sitting. i think it says something that the first thing i’ve written in months is ardyn smut, lol. 

Ardyn/F!Reader (2,185 words)

Warnings: super duper smut. edging, a little degradation, dumbification (fucks you so good you can’t think), overstimulation, orgasm denial, spanking, cockwarming, oral sex (male and female receiving), creampie/unprotected sex

Taglist: @mp938368 @valkyrieofardyn @zer0pm @sevansheart @bestchocobois @jaysfandomcorner @glacian-apocalypse @blindedstarlight @tales-of-a-fallen-star god. where the hell is everyone

--

ardyn makes the decision on a whim. you haven’t done anything to deserve the punishment he’s about to give you; he just wants to make you cry and beg for his cock

he moves forward with his plans that very night. you’re lying next to him, asleep. it all starts with his hand under your shirt. gently, so as to not wake you. 

he wants to make you moan in your sleep, just for him. 

and you do exactly that as he fondles your breasts -- you’re like putty in his fingers and he simply cannot get enough of you

when his touch gets rougher, you wake up. as soon as he notices that you’re more responsive to him, he sits up and pulls you into his lap. he tsks at your sleepy face, dazed and horny as he’s made you

he likes you like this -- malleable, still not awake enough to become bratty, where the first and only thing you direct your attention to is how much you need him. idly, he thinks he should wake you like this more often.

you don’t know what’s going on, but you lean into his touch like you would in any other circumstance

“you’ve been a very good girl for me,” ardyn mutters into your ear, “and good girls get rewards.”

it’s a simple enough premise that you nod along, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and mindlessly starting to grind against him. 

ardyn stills your hips, grinning down at you. “and you’ll get it, in time, after I have my fun.” he relishes in the way you just stare at him, completely unaware of the storm heading your way

he tells you to undress, so you do. he lays you over his lap and caresses your ass, squeezing and groping what belongs to him

it makes you moan. you know what’s coming, and you can’t help the way you squirm when he asks you to count for him in that gravelly voice of his

one, two, three, all the way to thirty. you’re fully awake now, voice hoarse, ass raw, and cunt absolutely sopping wet. 

ardyn just laughs at you, running his fingers through your wetness and admiring the way you shiver and hiss

he makes you lay on your back and you whimper at the feeling of the sheets against your tender skin. even though they’re cool, it provides little relief. 

he knows that what you need right now is him. he knows that you’re always incredibly sensitive after he spanks you. he knows that you could probably cum on his cock without him even moving.

ardyn knows all of this. so when he lays down at your side and presses light kisses to your neck, you know he’s just teasing you

it makes you whine and grab his hand to shove his fingers up inside of you, but he curls them so they just bunch up outside. you whine pitifully again, body shaking.

“it’s not fair,” you whimper, trying again to get him to at least use his fingers. “riling me up like this to not even fuck me…”

“in due time, my dear.” 

and then he rolls the fuck over and stops touching you completely. your mouth gapes as you just stare at him, offended by the sheer audacity

you know you could easily take care of yourself, but you also know that would upset him greatly. besides, you’re intrigued. you decide to play along with his little game, excited to see what the payoff will be.

ardyn teases you relentlessly and leaves you hanging every. single. time. 

he cycles through a lot of the same methods, doing all the things he knows will work you up beyond belief. you can’t find a rhythm with it because you never know what to expect, and it’s driving you crazy.

sometimes he’s got you on your knees in front of him, his hand digging into your hair as he holds your head down on his cock

he fucks your face fast and hard and deep and all you can think about, gagging and choking and whimpering, is how badly you want him to turn you around and fuck you just like this

he doesn’t cum down your throat or even in your mouth -- he knows better than to do that. the feeling alone has made you cum before, untouched, and as riled as you are now, it would defeat the purpose of all the teasing. 

so he spends himself on your chest, then leaves you there to clean yourself up.

sometimes he spanks you, hit after hit after hit

he goes until you’re shaking and moaning and barely able to contain yourself, mindlessly begging him even though you don’t know if you want him to stop or keep going

he decides for you, every time. and he knows from the quiver in your leg that you’re one more hit away from cumming, your body trained so nicely for him. so again, he leaves you there, body burning for him.

sometimes he’s got you on your back, face buried between your thighs, eating you out like a man starved. the first time he did it, you were relieved, foolishly thinking that finally, this torture was over and you were going to get your reward

you were wrong, of course

he stops when you get that same quiver in your leg, the one that lets him know you’re about to fall over the edge. he kisses the insides of your thighs until you calm down, and then goes right back to eating you out again. 

he starts and stops and starts and stops, over and over again, until you’re crying and begging him to let you go, the stimulation becoming painful. you don’t even care about cumming at that point, you just need him to stop. so he does, leaving you aching.

sometimes he’s got you in his lap, your back pressed against his chest, letting his hands roam your body freely. he whispers absolutely filthy things in your ear, enjoying how you squirm and whimper for him

he slides his fingers inside you and you already know that at this point, they alone would never be enough. but it doesn’t help that he seems to be deliberately missing your g-spot and is very careful not to brush against your clit. 

but the whole thing still leaves you completely wrecked, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look up at him and beg him for mercy. 

ardyn delights in the way you can’t seem to stop moving, your body desperately chasing any kind of proper friction completely on its own. he strokes your cheek and coos at you, watching you sob and hiccup and beg

and he leaves you hanging. again.

you don’t know how long he decides to continue this little game for -- you lost track of the time shortly after it started. it feels like it’s been weeks, and knowing ardyn, it may well have been. by the end, the only thing you can form a complete thought about is how badly you need him to fuck you unconscious

it seems like instinct, ardyn knowing that you were finally ready for your reward. he doesn’t say it outright, leaving it to you to figure it out.

when he puts you on your knees and tells you to beg for it, you grovel and whine and beg and plead like your life depends on it, and you’re so desperate for him that you might actually die if he denies you again.

luckily for you, he has no such plans

he sets you on his lap and tells you to finish yourself on his thigh. it’s not enough and you both know it, but you’re so beyond relieved at finally being allowed to cum that you follow his direction without hesitation. 

you cum so fast that it honestly takes him by surprise; in no time at all, your leg starts to shake, and then your whole body follows as you ride out your first orgasm of the night, clinging to him for dear life.

the sight of you like this is the most beautiful thing he’s ever had the joy of experiencing, and he commits it to memory as he finally, finally slides himself into you

you’re impossibly wet and he loves it, able to fill you completely in just one stroke

he lets you sit there and cockwarm him for now, admiring the way your body twitches at the euphoria of finally having the one thing you’ve needed this whole time: him.

you’re already seeing stars by the time he decides to move, and when he lays you on your back to fuck you properly, you shoot into subspace

you cum again after one particularly hard thrust, and ardyn chuckles low and deep right in your ear, grabbing your hips and pulling your body tighter against his

he fucks you just like that until you cum again, screaming his name as the tears start to roll down your cheeks at the sheer intensity of it

it’s overwhelming. his cock is hitting so deep inside you, it feels like he’s in your fucking stomach, it should hurt but all you want, all you can think about is more, more, more, and ardyn is all too happy to provide

he pulls out and flips you over so you’re on your knees. as soon as you notice the emptiness you’re pleading for him to fill you up again, wiggling and squirming and unknowingly making it more difficult for him to get you where he wants you

he smacks your ass to make you sit still but it only riles you more. with a dark grin, he keeps going until you cum once more

you feel too weak to even move, all you can do is take whatever he gives you

and when he finally gets you just where he wants you -- ass high in the air, back arched, face deep in the mattress -- and he slides into you again, you swear you’re seeing divine light.

he goes deep, deeper than before, deeper still when he leans down to press his chest against your back, and you can barely fucking breathe, much less think

he starts fucking you hard and slow, periodically grinding his hips in a circle just because he knows it drives you crazy, just to see how wrecked you become.

suffice to say he’s delighted with your trembling form, the sheen of sweat covering your body, and that the only things escaping you are moans, sobs, and his name. 

he’s asking you a question and you know he is, but you can’t even grasp a coherent string of thought to begin to answer him. you start crying again, whimpering out some completely garbled nonsense

ardyn outright laughs at you -- you’re so fucked out you can’t even speak correctly

“seems i’ve fucked every single thought out of that pretty little head of yours. you just need your dumb cunt stuffed full, don’t you, dear? have i fucked you stupid?”

he shifts and you feel like if he goes any deeper he’ll come out of your mouth, and the pure euphoria is too much to handle

he reaches around and starts to rub your clit, but just the first touch is enough to make you cum again. if you were in a better state of mind, you might have felt ashamed for being so easy, but right now all you can think about is the dick filling you beyond the brim, giving you more than you can take

he doesn’t slow down or give you any room to think or breathe, just starts pressing kisses and little bites into your neck 

“one more,” he says, breath ragged as his own orgasm quickly approaches, “one more and i’ll let you rest.”

somewhere deep in your mind, you think that you couldn’t possibly recover from this -- from the intensity of the buildup, from so many orgasms in one go, from ardyn rearranging your pussy to form to him and only him -- it’s all too much

but when he yanks on your hair and practically abuses your poor clit and demands that you cum on him so he can breed you like the whore you are… who are you to deny him?

so you cum, screaming, crying, jerking, shaking, and you can already feel your consciousness fading as he twitches inside you and fills you with his cum. the heat is unbearable

by the time ardyn pulls out, you’re long gone, having already passed out from exhaustion. he smiles at you fondly as he cleans the both of you up

he thinks back on the experience as a whole, and he knows this will not be the last time. seeing you that desperate for him was something he will never be able to pass up again. 

he caresses your cheek, thinking that you still look absolutely peaceful even with the dried tears and the drool beneath your chin. you’re radiant just like this, and he can’t wait to do it all over again.