#poly imagine

[black-dhalias]

The Bear, the Rose, and the Song

Rosalie Hale X Emmett Cullen X Poly!Reader

Includes SMUT towards the end

Nothing quite like an evening at the mountain peak, especially with such a wonderful woman at your side. You glance over, noting the perfection that is your wife—nothing quite like it at all.

The way she tucked her legs up under her as she leaned into your side, her left hand twisting circles in your hair. Her right hand intertwined with yours. In the sunrise, you both shimmered, but she seemed to shine—her eyes shut as the sunlight brushes her cheeks. Is this heaven?

Your hum, seemed to call to her as she glances in your direction. Nothing short of perfection. "Are you ready to head back?" You shook your head, adamant that you want to stay—your cheek against her hair, enjoying the dance of sun off the blonde curls.

"I could stay like this forever..." She smiles, you hum again and return the gesture—your fingers tightening their grasp as she slides closer.

A scream cuts through the silence, splitting the mountains in two as a breeze shifts the air. The thick scent of blood that sings like a song you once sang.

"Y/N?" You look back, realizing you had stood and were now at the cliffs edge—you swallow, there is concern in those amber eyes. An emotion that often clings to her, she worries too much, but now—in this moment, you can't explain the song. You tug her hand, eyes shifting in the direction of the scent—begging her listen, pleading her to hear your pleas.

Rosalie always understood, but now, she hesitates. You were older and more compassionate, you had more control—more experience. You were simply a better person.

In this moment, you felt different.

She notes the purse of your lips, the way your eyes shifted ever so slightly. She notes the way you tugged her hand again, this time more forcefully. Ready to take the leap, with or without her, and she'd never let you jump alone.

That was the day you found Emmett, you can recall the bloodlust with a perfect clarity, until you saw the way Rosalie looked at him. Even in that moment, even knowing the song his blood sang—you were content in waiting back.

Watching as her gentle fingers brushed his curls and whispered comforts as she carried him. Now as you watch them, you smile fondly at the pair—embracing the chaos of their many personalities left you whole in ways you did not understand.

Ways you felt you did not deserve.

"Y/N!" Emmett makes grabby hands in your direction, the way Rose was tucked in his chest already as he lounged across the bed.

You smile, notating the way he seemed to brighten with the gesture. The way his blood once sang, now it was simply him. Rosalie, she was your lover, a mate, and Emmett was your singer. A connection that could hardly be matched, except by a mate. It seemed perfect when you all connected, falling into rhythm like a symphony.

.

.

.

"So Y/N can't talk?" Bella asked Edward, as he explained his family dynamic—one of the elder Cullens, you didn't go to school like the rest despite being similar in age.

"More like doesn't. Y/N wasn't changed by Carlisle and only joined him a few months after he left the Volturi—a lot of their human memories are fuzzy, but they were maimed in an experimental procedure." Bella's eyebrows furrowed, trying to imagine why you wouldn't speak—you seemed so sweet, but never spoke a word.

"Ho-?" The word didn't even finish before Edward interrupted her.

"Someone crudely removed their vocal cords among other things, so when they turned. They healed, but—" Edward inhales, glancing over at Bella in the passenger seat.

"But they never quite recovered. Y/N is roughly 200, but only found Rosalie in 1933 and Emmett 2 years later. She spent her first 100 years alone and unheard, Rose helped her find a voice again." Bella notes his smile at his adopted siblings.

"They still don't talk?" He shakes his head.

"But they sing."

Rosalie could hear the velvety sound of your voice, it seemed to carry warmth and comfort. Every word echoes off the walls of the cottage as the rain patters on top of the porch roof—you spoke next to nothing, but your voice seemed to bury itself in song.

There were no reservations, the piano seemed to harmonize with the rain. Rosalie leaned her head onto the doorframe, just listening as everything poured out of your soul.

You never let Rosalie walk alone, every strain and stress was your burden to share. Your love was never questionable to her, held no strings or stipulations—she never had to earn it.

She felt Emmett’s presence, close, but too close. His eyes shimmering a brilliant red, you were quick to bring him here. The little getaway cabin where you spent many years with Rosalie, enjoying her without the shame. “Have they always talked?”

He couldn’t remember ever hearing you say a word, but he remembered your face with perfect detail. The way you smiled. How Rosalie gravitated to you.

“It’s complicated.” She smiles softly, never looking away. “They’ll sing everything you’ll ever need to hear.” You use ASL mostly, Rosalie had taken it upon herself to learn years ago, but you kept to yourself.

Emmett had found this new life complicated, it felt intricate and challenging, but these two women. You and Rose. It didn’t seem impossible.

“It’s about you isn’t it?” She hmmms, you smile through the lyrics—playing out the notes. Emmett gestures, “The song. It’s about you.” Rosalie’s expression is soft as she looks at you.

“Maybe it’s about you too.”

Looking back, you’re almost certain that was the moment Emmett realized he would never be alone again. That he would always have someone on his side, no matter what.

Introspectively, you knew from the first minute, he was simply meant to be in your life. The same with Rosalie, she had been changed with the intent of being for Edward (a perverted thought that bothered you even now), but once you saw her. Heard those screams—not even Carlisle could deny it.

You didn’t move for three days as she begged you for death, and the silence that followed her change. “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” she recalls the whisper as she met your eye, “I never would have wanted this for you.”

It was the first and only time you ever spoke to her, your voice was soft and tender—it felt broken, she could feel the broken in your tone. Now she understands you more, loves you deeper than then.

“Rose?” Emmett looks up at her, before glancing at you across the room. There’s something so curious about quiet need held within his eyes. “Y/N?” You look back, practically coming to them instantly—you bent to their needs at all hours.

Emmett folded your hand in his and then hers, the dynamic felt natural as he summoned some courage. “I want to go with the others to school, with you Rose.” You smile, not feeling at all bothered that he felt ready to explore himself more. To venture away from the home the three of you built—in these four walls, it was just the three of you.

You nod, folding your other hand over his with eagerness—you place it over your heart, knowing you wouldn’t join them.

“I don’t want you to feel left—” You don’t even let him finish as you shake your head, moving your joined hands over his own heart. “But—” You lean up to give him a quick kiss, “Thank you. For always loving me.”

You feel Rosalie snake her arm around you, enjoying the way she leans down to kiss the top of your head. Was Emmett always this sentimental, no, but he always meant it.

••SMUT BELOW••

Rosalie laid out beneath you, lips hovering above her clit as your tongue rolled across the sensitive point. Your thumbs rolled circles in her thighs as your face buried itself in between, the soft pull of her fingers in your hair encouraged you. Her back arches as her body shivers beneath your mouth, she tasted like perfection.

The soft moans you elicited from her etch into your brain, as you pull away—her legs draped across shoulders and grin as you lick your lips. Even without needing breath, her chest heaves—the soft mounds of flesh grabbing your attention as they rise and fall in perfect harmony.

"Do you like what you see?" It felt like a dare, and she swears your eyes seem to come alight as you drop her legs and drag yourself upwards between them. Your bare stomach pressed against hers as you hover above: "Cmon love, I'm not going to break." You lower yourself, keeping your eyes locked on her—memorizing the face she makes as your lips lock over her nipple, tongue flicking as you grasp the other. Her eyes close, lips parting to let out another moan.

Letting go of her breast, you let your fingers drag across her soft skin—not an imperfection in sight. Without a second to breathe, you palm her mound with your hand—resting your middle finger just above the clit. Giving it just enough of a touch, to remind her exactly what it means to be yours. "Please..." You comply with the plea, sliding your finger downwards to touch her entrance before sliding inside.

Rosalie didn't shy away from moaning your name as you work her entrance, pacing yourself as you begin to kiss the other breast before bringing your lips up to kiss. Hoping she can taste herself on you.

You start slow with only a single finger, only entering half an inch before removing. After a minute, you place a second finger—driving it deeper as her lips part. Sweet noises bringing your closer as you increase your pace, working your thumb along her clit as you drive three fingers into her.

Large hands reach around your chest as the mattress shifts under Emmett's added weight. He palms your breasts in his hands, thumb and forefingers rolling your nipples. "I go out hunting, and almost miss all the fun." His tone is light as you smile at him, retracting your fingers and bringing them to his lips. He wraps his mouth around them, before smiling—looking down at Rosalie who was still breathless. "Oh Rose, you taste wonderful." He leans down to place a kiss between her thighs, never breaking eye contact as she bends to them both.

They were safe. They were warm and good, and everything icy about her melted beneath their fingertips.

Emmett wraps his hand around yours as he brings it back to her pussy, "I love when you do that.”

Your legs on either side of her thighs, one hand bracing while the other works Rosalie. You feel Emmett lay down on the end of the bed before his lips kiss your entrance. You shiver in anticipation, feeling him grasp your hips and pull you lower as his tongue moves through your folds and onto your clit with precision.

Rosalie came quickly again, her insides quivering as kisses you deeply enjoying the way your moans feel against her lips. She could feel your pleasure in every hesitation when his tongue hit the right spot. You felt warm like the world was on fire, as you remove your fingers from Rosalie and bury them in her hair.

Skin to skin, and you still attempted to bring her closer. Her breasts against yours, you felt high as you came. Breathing heavily as Emmett enjoyed every drop of your climax, loving your taste as he slid out from under you.

The mattress shifts as he lays beside you both, spooning your forms as Rosalie moves to lay inbetween. Her facing Emmett as you spoon her from behind—you can think of no better place than behind Rosalie Hale.

“Remember our first?” The memory lights up your mind as you recall your first time with the pair. You’d been with Rosalie before, but with them both, everything felt like it clicked into place.

Emmett was gentle with his touch, hesitant to get close to either of you knowing your past. But he wasn’t them, and as you guided his hands to grip onto Rosalie’s hips—you felt his confidence growing.

You smile up at him, sitting up with your head resting against your fist. Giving a soft nod, Emmett cannot explain how it feels to love you both.

It felt like a warm spring after a cold winter. A soft autumn breeze to cool the summer sun. It was the lull of water against the sand, or the roar of the falls against the rocks.

Emmett didn’t have many words and was never one for poetry, but that seemed to be a good start.

[leafsbabe]

Andrei Svechnikov & Sebastian Aho & Teuvo Teräväinen - gentle love

cw: poly relationship (3 players dating gn!reader, relationships between players not specified but can be read as platonic or romantic), mentions of therapy, crying/“breaking down”, general mental health struggles (not further specified), some dissociation around time, food and eating (unrelated to mental health struggles), two mentions of a character accidentally burning himself while cooking … 1.7k words

Sometimes you could get so good at bottling up your feelings and suppressing emotions that everything felt fine. At least until you were sat in a therapy session —with the same therapist you’d been seeing for years— and they hit you, broke you, caused you to completely fall apart on an uncomfortable leather armchair.

Fuck, how you hated when that happened.

You were lucky, in a way, to break in a controlled environment. Your therapist let you cry it out and didn’t try to push the issue more or force you to talk about it. Not that you would have been able to, even if you had wanted to talk. They handed you tissues —single ones at first before just giving you the entire box— and let you go over your time for almost fifteen whole minutes with a simple “don’t worry about it” in a tone that told you she felt sorry for you. Hopefully sorry enough to let the overtime slide. That way your insurance wouldn’t complain over extra billed hours.

That didn’t mean you felt okay afterwards but at least that red hot ball of overwhelming emotion had shriveled into a heavy feeling in your stomach, leaving you numb but sick. You hated it, yet you couldn’t escape. Even though you were sitting in your car you couldn’t drive home. Not like this, with your hands body shaking and your vision going blurry from a combination of leftover tears and a post-cry headache.

While you could have sat there longer trying to calm down, there was nothing you wanted more than to go home. Calling your partners felt like admitting you were weak but fuck, nobody could be strong all the time and you were allowed to be vulnerable. Still, you were too shaken to call, fearing that they would hear the emotions in your voice. Instead you sent a message in your group chat asking if one of them could pick you up.

You were still in your car, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard your fingers hurt, when a familiar car pulled into the parking lot of your therapist’s office. It was hard to say who came for you. They had taken Andrei’s car but the Russian wouldn’t have taken the corner so carefully. Truthfully you only realized more than one of your boyfriends had come when Teuvo tapped on your window and you looked out to see him and Sebastian standing there. They were careful to look at you no differently than usual but you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t see the worry in their eyes. 

“Rough talk?” Teuvo asked as you got out, taking in your state. You could only nod in response. There was no point in pretending you were okay, not with them being able to see through you so clearly it made you feel like your entire being was made out of crystal. Fragile like it too, ironically.

“Come.” Teuvo put an arm around your shoulder, gently steering you towards the other car. “Sepe will drive your car home.”

The drive back to your place wasn’t too long without rush hour traffic but it still seemed to stretch into hours. Teuvo hadn’t turned on the radio and you didn’t know whether you were grateful for the lack of stimulation or annoyed at the lack of distraction. Then suddenly within the blink of an eye those hours turned into seconds and he pulled into the parking area of your building, your car somehow already parked in its usual spot but Sebastian nowhere to be seen.

Teuvo got out of the car and walked around it to open your door for you, a sweet gesture you suppose. Walking into the building you turned towards the stairs, your boys always complained about them but they tended to use them simply because they were quicker than the old elevator your landlord refused to upgrade. Today though, Teuvo steered you toward the elevator before pressing the button to your floor. The ride up was as silent as the car ride.

The entryway to your place was surprisingly empty as you toed off your shoes but you realized why once you walked in further. Your whole apartment smelled amazing, hearty and warm in the way only a good soup could. Muffled Russian cursing came from the direction of the kitchen so you didn’t have to guess who decided to play chef during your absence.

“He definitely touched the hot pot again.” Teuvo joked quietly while helping you out of your jacket. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely audible as you responded but he didn’t complain. Instead he steered you towards the living room where Sebastian already stood, holding up a soft blanket you liked to use.

The sight of him waiting for you made your heart ache in the best way. Your boys truly were so thoughtful. Walking to Sebastian you let yourself be wrapped into the blanket. The first touch of that dryer warm fabric against your skin almost brought tears to your eyes. Before you knew it you were sat on the couch, all wrapped up, while your boyfriends flitted around the apartment. There was a cup placed on the couch table, a coaster below it to catch any drips running down the ceramic and prevent them from leaving a print on the wood. Oh. 

Sebastian and Teuvo just awkwardly lingered around the room as Andrei walked in carrying a bowl of soup and placed it next to the cup. You could see the rosy spot on the back of his hand where he had burned himself while cooking but he pulled his hands away before you could react. He didn’t completely retreat like your other partners though. Instead he sat down next to you before pulling the table closer towards the couch. “Recipe from mama.” He said. “Makes bad days better.”

The realization of what was going on just made you tear up again. There was no way Andrei would have had enough time to cook after you had texted your boyfriends to pick you up. But if he didn’t make it from scratch following his mother’s recipe that could only mean one thing. He must have heated up some of the soup his mother had made for him the last time she visited. The soup that had been stashed away deep in the freezer for those days he felt especially homesick.

“Oh no. No. No. Don’t cry.” Andrei wrapped his arms around you gently, pulling you against his broad body. He continued to talk, something low and Russian you couldn’t understand, but you could suspect that it was something calming in his mother tongue. At least he didn't seem to mind you clutching at his hoodie and maybe crying into it a little.

The tears eventually stopped but you were still holding onto your boyfriend when your other boyfriends stopped hovering and instead came closer to the couch.

“Can we sit?” Sebastian asked, gesturing to the free space on either side of you and Andrei.

“Or would it be too much right now?” Teuvo added.

It was an age old conflict within you, wanting those you loved close for comfort while also needing as much space between you and others as possible. Today though, you needed them by your side more than anything. Making grabby hands at them felt slightly juvenile but you honestly didn’t care at the moment.

Theoretically all four of you should fit on the couch comfortably. It was big enough for your polycule as well as visitors in case your boys wanted to invite teammates over to play video games or hang out. But somehow you still ended up squished between the three of them.

You just let yourself enjoy their presence for a moment. Somebody began stroking your back through the blanket, soothing words in a foreign language filling the room.

“Can we…” You began, before stopping. They wouldn’t force you to talk but you still hated asking. Communication was important but you just couldn’t. “Can we not talk about it?”

A kiss was pressed against your hairline while somebody spoke, too soft to make out who. “Okay.”

By the time you gathered yourself enough to sit up and reach for the soup the hearty meal had cooled down, clinging onto the last remnants of warmth. It hadn’t lost any of the flavor though. You were well aware of the three pairs of eyes watching you eat but you just focused on the food in front of you.

Andrei didn’t fill the bowl up completely so it didn’t take you long to finish your soup. What Andrei had said was true —good soup, especially his mother’s soup, made bad days better— but your boys also helped immensely. 

When you were done you couldn’t even put the bowl down before they jumped up. 

“More?” Andrei asked at the same time that Teuvo asked “Done?”

Only Sebastian remained on the couch with you and you took the opportunity to snuggle closer.

“No thank you Andrei, that was more than enough. Thank you for sharing your soup with me.”

He smiled at you before Teuvo reached over and plucked the bowl from your hands, “Sit.” He told Andrei before walking away towards the kitchen. Behind you Sepe opened his arms and before you knew it you were sandwiched between the two men again.

By the time Teuvo came back the two guys had joined you under the blanket. Your oldest boyfriend just looked at you three before sighing and attempting to wrestle a corner from Sebastian so that he could join you as well. It was all in good fun but the chaos of it all —the tug of war about a blanket and the muffled Finnish curses—was enough to bring a smile to your face. 

The four of you were an odd relationship but you fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Even if your boys were incapable of sharing a blanket they shared love and that was far more important. There was an understanding between you that you had never experienced in a relationship before and that you never wanted to lose. 

Andrei noticed you smiling and wrapped his arms around you, using his body to shield yours from the play fight happening around you two. You just sighed —content— and leaned back against his broad chest, the smile not leaving your face. Some days were hard but with them by your side, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

[messinwdabest]

please help i’m looking for a story i read on here a long time ago 😭 it was a poly jikook fic but jimin was only in love with jungkook and the reader was only in love with jimin. jungkook made them be in this poly relationship bc he was in love with reader. it’s a whole bunch of other things but that’s the gist of it. i’ve been searching on and off for almost 2 years 😭 somebody please remember this story. it was really good and i forgot to save it

[dpimagines]

The Sharpest Lives; Wade Wilson (feat. Nathan Summers) – Part 5 of 5

I expected this to be smuttier. Maybe I can get around to writing a bonus chapter with smut if any of you would be into that? Let me know!

Same trigger warnings, actually, this is much milder since the action/conflict has pretty much passed. Yay for happy endings!

tag list: @peculiar-persephone @fuckyouandtheboatyoucamein @yomama-umbridge @dee-vn @ghostlyvenus-selfships

Waking up is less dramatic than yesterday. Simply put, you got too hot. Wade’s healing factor makes him the equivalent of a heated blanket that’s just a little too warm. 

He’s already awake, though, gazing at you in a silence that to most would seem uncharacteristic.

But you know him. 

“Can- Can I call you ‘baby,’ now?” he asks. It lacks his false bravado, in fact, he sounds like the scared little boy he once was, before the killing and the new girl every night and the grand love story and the cruel experimentation. Before he was him. 

You nod solemnly.

“They’ll be here in a couple hours. After that, we’ll get Eddie and then lay low for a little while, blow away some of our savings. Get to know each other again, and get to know him.”

You nod again. 

“I love you, you know that, right?”

And again. 

“Say something?” he meekly requests. 

“Water, please?” you croak, throat dry.

He leaps to action, accidentally shaking the rollaway a little bit and waking Russell with a start.

“Sorry, little man. Just grabbing some water for the wifey.”

Wade toddles over to the kitchenette, and you turn, wrenching yourself from Nathan’s grip to observe him as Wade observed you. Some people look more at peace when asleep. Not him. His jaw is clenched shut; his eyebrows are furrowed. You brush a tuft of his gray hair from his face, and he snatches your wrist. 

You flinch back, and recognition washes over his face, remorse following shortly after. 

“No touching while you’re asleep, gotcha,” you awkwardly chuckle. 

“Can’t imagine why you’d wanna touch this mug,” he grumbles. 

“Get used to asking yourself that question every day!” Wade chirps. “Well, on second thought, you are super fucking se-”

“Wade,” you hiss, reminding him once again that there’s a kid present.

Nathan takes a moment to examine the arm he grabbed. 

“Sorry,” he nearly whispers, but you shake your head. 

“I scared you,” you dismiss it. “Don’t you start with the whole delicate treatment, too.”

“It’s not that you are delicate. You just deserve to be treated like it. Y’know, gentle.”

Wade laughs heartily, nearly spilling the glass he’s returned with. 

You give him a pointed look as he hands it to you. You take a nice, long drink before placing it on the nightstand.

“I didn’t say anything,” he defends himself. 

“Oh, is that how it is?” Nathan looks up at you with a glint in his eye best described as devious. Blood rushes to your face, but you force it back nearly as fast. “That’s a nice little trick you’ve got there.”

“What trick?” Wade asks, oblivious. 

“He doesn’t know.” Nathan looks a little too proud of himself. 

“I don’t know how you do.”

“I… Have some telepathic abilities. They’re almost exclusively used to keep the virus from taking over, but I can still sense some things. She uses her abilities to push the blood away from her face so she won’t blush. I wasn’t sure what you were doing the other night when I felt it, but you’re a little slower in the mornings, aren’t you?” 

Wade is gobsmacked. 

“Yes, she knew,” you know the question he’s too scared to ask. “That night was her idea, actually.”

“That night?!” he squeaks. 

“That night?” Nathan asks. 

“Well, I kind of…challenged Wade. To make me blush,” you explain as vaguely as you can, but Russell still chortles. 

“You were so mean,” Wade teasingly whines. “You’re just not trying hard enough,” he imitates you shockingly well. 

“You liked it,” you remind him. 

“Evil little- Hmph!” Wade grumbles, and you can’t help but giggle.

“If I was as goofy as the two of you, I’d be playing dead right now,” Nathan cuts in. 

“Huh?” you and Wade respond. 

“Y’know, how I said I’d drop dead… Ugh, nevermind,” he groans. “See? Not goofy.”

“Wait, no, I get it now!” you reassure him. “Very funny.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh, it’s just something he said the night before last, about how much prettier I’d be if I was well-rested and… Really smiling.” You smile again, gazing at your newly-found soulmate. “Guess it happened sooner than I thought.” You know there will be days where the grief is crushing, but you’ll feed on this little slice of happiness, on any that you can find. Something tells you that you won’t be running out of them anytime soon, even with the hard times to come. 

“Can I kiss you?” Nathan asks. 

You look to Wade for approval. 

“He’s your soulmate, too,” he tells you with a shrug. 

And so, you two have a kiss that’s a little more than chaste, but still simple. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you once again have to prevent yourself from blushing like it’s the first kiss you’ve ever received.

He’s smirking like you did, though, and that’s when you know you’re in for it. 

“Cute,” he says softly. 

“Isn’t she?” Wade rejoins you in bed. “Let’s just cuddle until the X-Losers get here.”

“Dude,” you remind him, and he turns to Russell. 

“Oh, they’re, uh, they’re not losers, I- Uh-” 

“Anyways, I’d like to remedy my morning breath and do my best to no longer reek of blood and sweat.”

“Wouldn’t we all?” Wade agrees. He and Russell are still in their yucky jumpsuits from the prison. “How about this? Russell gets picked up by them, and we go back to the apartment for a group shower?”

Nathan clears his throat. 

“You don’t have to join, but I will say, Y/N really gets into your back with this super yummy-smelling scrub, I mean, why make it with sugar and make it smell like fruit if you don’t want people to eat it? It’s downright cruel, truly, I-”

“Can you shower?” you wonder, cutting Wade off. “Do you need, like, a special sleeve for…” You’re not sure what to call the metal creeping up Nathan’s neck and covering his arm. 

“It’s hard to explain, but it’s organic.”

“So’s malachite,” you reply, wanting a real answer. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t give off toxic fumes when it gets wet.”

“Oh, a geologist, are we?” he half-snarks back. 

“Best friends with one.”

And with that, you get a call from Ellie. 

“Speak of the devil. Hi.”

“We’re almost there. You okay?”

“Okay-er than I was yesterday, and the day before,” you tell her. 

“Good,” she replies. “See you soon.” 

“Yes, ma’am! Be safe, love you.” You hang up. 

“It’s fine. The metal, I mean. Doesn’t rust or anything, at least not yet,” Nathan mumbles. “And it’s been around for a long time.” 

You nod in understanding. 

Wade ruffles your hair and you sigh, still a little drowsy. 

“Are you excited?” you ask Russell. 

“Yeah, kinda…”

“It’s a great place. I grew up there.”

This seems to relieve him a bit. 

“I get my own bed?”

“You’ll probably have a roommate or two, but, yeah. And there’s plenty of food to go around, and movie nights where the movie doesn’t get turned off, and… It can be a lot sometimes, but it really is like one big family.”

You feel a pang in your heart and look at Wade, who’s looking at Nathan.

“I’ll explain later, maybe,” Nathan mumbles. 

“Okay,” you reply.

There’s a knock at the door, a special pattern that you know by heart. 

You go for the door, opening it up for Ellie, Yukio, and Piotr. 

“Russell!” you call. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Yukio asks.”You know you can always come back, there’s plenty of room and everyone would be so happy to see you, and-”

“Yukio. She knows,” Ellie mumbles. 

“You’d be the happiest to see your pseudo-big sis, don’t pretend it’s any other way!” Yukio insists, and you giggle a little. Russell joins you at the doorway.

“Hey, buddy!” Yukio chirps. 

“Russell, this is Yukio, president of the Welcome Committee. This is her girlfriend, Ellie, and that’s Mr. Rasputin. He teaches some of the art classes. Do you like to paint?”

“I think so… It’s been so long,” Russell admits. 

“I guess you’ll find out,” you tell him. He grins. 

“Do you have any questions before we go? Anything you wanna say?” Ellie asks curtly, but, hey, she’s trying. 

Russell simply gives you a big hug. 

“Okay, that’s all,” he says before finally crossing the threshold and joining the trio outside. 

“See you soon,” you say to the now-quartet, and they all say (or in Ellie’s case, wave) their goodbyes. You shut the door and lock it. 

“Alrighty. Let’s go home!” Wade cheers. Both he and Nathan have gotten up at this point. “I, uh, cleaned up the laptop shards. And basically the whole apartment. Cocaine and anxiety, well, they make for a very clean house.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, but Wade shakes his head. 

“You had a human reaction to a fucked-up situation. One I put you in. And you already apologized, and I already forgave you. We’re as okay as we could possibly be right now, alright?” 

“Alright,” you reply.

“I’m gettin’ kinda curious about this place,” Nathan chimes in. “Especially that whole shower thing.” 

“You just wanna see Y/N nekkid,” Wade giggles.

The shade of red Nathan turns is so adorable you feel yourself start to giggle, too, but you try to force it down for his sake.

Nathan clears his throat. 

“You don’t?” he retorts, but it took a little too long for him to come up with that to take him seriously.

“Why, of course I do! If I had my way, it would be federal- No, international law for Y/N to never wear clothes. Not for sexual reasons, no, no, sir, but because she is art that should not be hidden from the world. Especially me.” 

“Don’t get his hopes up,” you laugh. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nathan’s tone suddenly darkens when he says this, and he turns your head so you face him directly. “You’re gorgeous, doll. Guess he’s not getting his nose broken. Don’t think I could stand to see tears in those pretty eyes again.”

“You were gonna break my nose?!” Wade whines. “No, wait, that’d be kinda hot. You do aftercare, right?” 

Nathan just scoffs, shaking his head. 

“Let’s just get checked out and go.”

You and Wade follow his lead, cleaning up after yourselves and letting Nathan do the talking in the lobby while you two wait in the truck. He swiftly returns, and the trip that follows is like the day before yesterday in reverse; the sun gets higher as you return to familiarity. You’re squeezed between Wade’s nervous rambling of directions and Nathan’s stoic silence.

Eventually, you’re home. 

Nathan parks behind the duplex to avoid the stolen truck being spotted by those passing by, and the three of you make your way upstairs. 

“Shit,” you realize you left your keys inside when you left, and it’s not like Wade was able to retrieve his when you did your little prison break.

“Lock’s still busted, hon,” Wade murmurs. 

“Right,” you say, but you don’t open the door, steeling yourself. 

“Do you want me to do it?” Nathan asks you both. The two of you nod, and he opens the door. 

You sigh as you enter. It’s the same as when you left. Cleaner, like Wade said, but the same. It’s like nothing even happened. 

“Nice place,” Nathan comments. 

“Thanks,” you and Wade say in unison. 

The cleanliness of the apartment makes you even more aware of the grime you feel you’re covered in. You scratch at your cheek.

“Go ahead and hop in the shower,” Wade says. “I’ll lay out some comfy clothes for you and get your phone on the charger.” 

“You’re not gonna shower with me?”

“I was… Sorta kidding,” Wade admits. “Figured you might want some time to yourself.” 

“‘Cause that totally sounds like me,” you laugh. 

“I meant you might not wanna be, y’know, around me.”

There’s a thorn in your heart. Or maybe his. 

You shake your head. He embraces you, and it’s gone. 

“We’re gonna be okay, you know that, right?” you remind him. 

You look up at him, and that grieving ache in his heart intensifies.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I deserve you even less,” you reply. 

“You two. I feel like I’m watching one of Aaliyah’s vampire shows. Go take a fucking shower,” Nathan grumbles, but his cheeks are a little pink. You’d be worried if you felt any jealousy, but you don’t… 

Wait, does he think you two are cute? 

You nearly giggle. 

“Okay,” you respond, giving Nathan a peck on the cheek before heading to the bathroom. You turn the water on and strip down while you wait for it to warm up. 

The door opens, and you turn to see Wade. 

“Wow,” he blurts. 

“You act like it’s the first time every time.”

“Sure does feel like it, hot stuff.” He unzips his jumpsuit and takes off his boxers. “Wait, uh…” 

You finally notice the collar, and reach for it.

“No!” The fear jolts you more than his shout does. His fear. “It’ll shock you if you try and take it off. Do, the, uh… The pressure thing.”

“That shit hurts,” you remind him. 

“Dying of cancer hurts worse. It neutralizes any mutant ability.” 

“Fuck… Okay.” 

You take a deep breath, focusing on the beating of his heart; the blood rushing in his veins. You make it burst out of his neck in a tiny, powerful stream, slicing the collar off. It leaves a pretty nasty gash in his neck, but that heals up quickly. You rub at the same spot on your own neck, still feeling the sting a little. 

Nathan pounds on the door, scaring you both. 

“We’re fine!” Wade shouts. “Had to get my fancy prison necklace off without touching it.” 

“Just checking.” 

And with that, you check the water again, pulling back. 

“Ow!” Wade squeals dramatically. 

“I know,” you reply, turning the temperature down. You two share a look, feeling a certain third party’s anxiety simmer in your stomachs. 

Nathan knocks on the door again, this time lighter. 

“Just come in already,” Wade complains. 

The door cracks open. 

His eyes widen, flicking between you and Wade. 

“Did you not expect us to shower naked, or…?” Wade asks rhetorically. 

“Well, I just- Hm. Yeah. Okay.” 

He leaves as quickly as he arrived. You and Wade laugh like idiots— mostly at the aching in your groins that isn’t yours —before finally getting in the shower. 

Wade squirts a good amount of shampoo in his hands as you wet your hair. 

He lathers you up and you damn near melt at the sensation of his fingers against your scalp. 

You rinse your hair as he gets the conditioner. He works it into the ends of your hair before the two of you finally kiss. He sighs. 

“That’s it. Now, I’m home.” 

“You’re so cheesy,” you tell him.

“But you like it,” he sing-songs. “Mm, beautiful.” 

“You’re just buttering me up. C’mon, let’s switch spots and I’ll get the scrub.” 

He nods, and the two of you do as you said. You unscrew the lid of the scrub and get to work on his back, not bothering to save the best for last. 

The scrub stings against his aching skin, but he seems to like whatever other sensations he gets from it, the ones you can’t feel.

“You know, I could just give you a back rub,” you remind him. 

“Yeah, but exfoliating gets all the dead skin off so it doesn’t try to heal back and get all gross and flaky. Remember the first time you did this?”

You do. His back looked like a lizard struggling to shed its skin. Wade’s skin doesn’t disgust you, but you have to admit, it did give you the creeps that time. 

You finish up quickly, and he turns to rinse the remaining soap and sugar off. 

“Want me to get yours?” 

You nod and turn around. You only woke up a few hours ago, but the warmth of the shower and the comfort of Wade’s presence is sapping your energy away. 

He massages the scrub into your back and you’re once again melting under his touch. 

“All done,” he chirps. The two of you continue to wash your bodies, and afterwards you rinse out your conditioner. He turns the water off for you and grabs towels from the hooks just outside. You pat yourselves dry and realize you forgot to grab clean clothes. 

The two of you giggle as you skitter out of the bathroom in just your towels, dropping them once you make it to your wardrobe and his dresser. 

“Can I wear one of your shirts?” you ask as you pull on your underwear and a pair of sweatpants.

Wade tosses you one and you put it on. He hums with delight at the sight of you. 

“Eddie can wait ‘til tomorrow. Now, it’s time for a cuddle sesh,” he suggests. “What do you think, Nate?”

“It’s her money,” he responds from the couch. He’s sitting in her spot. You look at Wade, who’s already looking at you. Your eyes burn a little, but you smile. He has no idea how he’s healing you both, filling that void. Not replacing her, he never could, but he’s like a rectangular block that fits through a square hole; something different taking up the same space.

“I think it can wait until tomorrow,” you agree, heading over to the couch. You take your spot, draping your legs over Nathan’s lap, while Wade takes his and you prop yourself against him. “This is nice.” 

“Mhm,” he hums in agreement. You’re all hurting, sure, but… But it’s peaceful. A new normal falling into place.

[beloveds-embrace]

Imagine 141 moving into a quaint little town post retirement and you’re the only baker in town. You love making sweets, breads, and desserts and own a cute bakery to show for it, know everyone in your town so these four new men who come early morning to try your breakfast deal immediately excite you because- new perspectives and tastes and opinions! It’s become a habit of yours to share bites of whatever new item you plan on adding to the menu, so the more diverse opinions the merrier in your opinion.

And you are glad you didn’t let their demeanor- big gruff men, especially the one with the black surgical mask- scare you away because they are sooo nice, calling you sweetheart, doll, birdie, and bonnie. So many nicknames, it has you blushing the sweetest pink shade. And they are all too happy to help taste-test for you, giving you lots of praise.

(Though you never quite notice their immense disappointment at seeing the little ring on your finger.)

Still, at the very least one of them comes over to your bakery once a day. Sometimes they come together, sometimes only two of them- but they come anyways and tip you every time despite you insisting otherwise. It’s a lovely friendship you build with them. But they do note you never mention your partner much.

Until Simon drops by one day, intent on buying one of your apple pies and maybe fluster you enough to turn the same shade as an apple, and he sees the bruises that peek out just so from your sleeves and the collar of your outfit. Puffy eyes, more makeup than usual, your smile not quite there…

And he understands. He knows this all-too-well. And the fact that it’s happening to an embodiment of sunshine like you? Unfair. Unbelievable. Unacceptable.

Simon gently takes your hands, squeezing them so lightly. “Everything’ll be well, luvie. Promise.” And that’s all he says.

And maybe it’s cruel of you to be happy when you receive a call a few days later, the sherrif of the town telling you your husband was found mauled to death by one of the bears that roam around the woods occasionally, but you just… don’t care.

A week later, when it seems appropriate enough, you open up the bakery again and your smile is blinding as you greet the 141 men and tell them for today, everything’s for free.

part 2

Other works + help me choose a title for this 😩

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Wild West Gang - Noncon

Your life is all planned out for you. Marriage. Children. Settling down in your little town and growing old. But a gang of outlaws and their wicked desires change everything.

Tags: (6) yandere males x fem reader, noncon, loss of virginity, choking, spitroast (hell yeah), oral fixation, 12.3k words

I blame the ridiculously talented @fangdokja and The Red Ledger for inspiring this btw.

They came for you in the middle of the day.

Shameless. Better men would at least wait for nightfall, would at least try and hide their intentions behind the cloak of darkness. Not them though.

They kicked the door in when your family was just about ready to eat lunch, the food still steaming and your ma still in her apron.

You didn't even have time to scream.

One outlaw smashed his rifle butt into your pa's temple and the old man was out like a light, still clutching the knife he'd grabbed to defend you. Two others grabbed your mother and shoved her into the pantry, blocked the door with a tipped over cupboard.

You ran. Or tried to at least. They were crowded into your kitchen, laughing as you turned from one to the other.

"No way out, beauty."

"Too late to run now, darlin'. Shoulda started before we even got here if you wanted to get away."

"Look at her all scared. Ain't it just adorable?"

With near identical duster coats and bandanas tied across their faces, you couldn't tell them apart.

They were closing in on you, a little at a time. You tried to fight, to pull away when one of them grabbed you. But they were dust bitten outlaws and you were just a rancher's daughter. It wasn't even a struggle.

The tallest one slammed you down on the kitchen table, his fingers digging into your shoulders and his belt buckle grinding against your ass.

Your mama's good milk jug tumbled off and shattered on the floor. That was what you focused on as they tied your hands behind your back and gagged you. The shards of blue and white ceramic in the puddle of milk.

Not their hands running over your hips, not their laughter. Just the milk and your ma's favourite jug all in pieces.

You could still hear your mother screaming for you when they pulled you outside. That was what hurt the most about that entire awful day. Your mama, pleading and begging and panicking and unable to save you.

Their horses were waiting, another outlaw standing guard with his rifle out.

"Boss, let her ride with me."

"With you? Ain't no way in hell my girl is riding with you."

"Your girl? She ain't yours. Boss, tell 'em she ain't his."

"Runnin' to the boss again? Yellow belly."

It was the tall one who settled the argument. His voice wasn't as rough as the others, but that didn't put you at ease in the slightest.

"She's riding with me."

He still had one hand curled around your upper arm and he pulled you towards his mustang. You dug your heels in as hard as you could, pulled back with all your weight. It just made him sigh.

"Ain't even started yet, and she's already being difficult?"

The outlaw that spoke was already on his stallion. All you could see of his face above the bandana was a pair of blue eyes, lined at the corners. The boss maybe?

"Just some...growing pains. She'll settle down soon enough."

The tall one leaned down and hoisted you over his shoulder. You squirmed and tried to kick your way free, but he kept one arm tight around your knees.

You thought all your panicking would frighten the horses, but no such luck. He tossed you across his saddle and climbed up behind you. The saddle horn dug into your belly until he pulled you into a proper seat, one arm curling around your waist. You could feel his chest against your back, every inch of it firm, hard earned muscle.

He dropped his head and spoke directly into your ear.

"No trying to jump off the horse. No trying to run away. I'm in charge of you until we get back and I won't have you hurt on my watch."

Your only response was to try and smash your head back into his nose. He straightened up just in time and all you managed to do was hurt your own neck.

He sighed again, and spurred his horse forward.

"Well, I suppose it this was easy, it wouldn't be nearly as fun."

The outlaws formed a loose ring around you as you rode. You tried to twist and look back, but your captor was holding you too tight. You didn't even get to see your home shrink into the horizon. Didn't even get that one small goodbye.

They rode for at least two hours, the sun climbing down from its zenith as they took you across rivers and down secret little paths. You knew your ranch and the area around it like the back of your hand, but even you were well and truly lost when you finally arrived.

It was a ranch, but there weren't any cows in the fields or corn growing in neat rows. The house was a big, whitewashed thing. Pretty once, but fallen into disrepair. Just a hideout. Not a place they stayed at for more than a few months.

The blue eyed one pulled you off the horse without breaking a sweat.

You could feel their eyes on you again. God, how many were there? Five? Six?

"You goin' first boss?"

The man looked down at you. He had a hand around your upper arm, but his grip was more firm than rough.

"I reckon I should. Can't trust you lot to be gentle or slow enough."

That made some of them jeer and complain.

"I'll be real sweet, boss. I promise!"

"We can be nice too. Really."

The man snorted. "Nice? I ain't never seen you dogs be nice 'bout nothing. I'll break our filly in. You lot just be patient and don't bother us none."

What were they talking about? You didn't have time to puzzle it out before the boss started pulling you toward the house. Seeing that building looming closer made you start fighting all over again, biting down on your gag and pulling back as much as you could. Like a mustang digging it's feet in.

It didn't last long. The boss leveled a look at you, met your eyes straight on.

"You really gonna be difficult with me, girl?"

Oh, what frightening eyes he had. Bright and clever, a blue so striking you could feel it right through your soul. A mountain lion would have eyes softer than his.

You stopped resisting him. Let him pull you along besides him. What else could you do? He had a gun on his back and a knife in his boot and years of experience wrangling stubborn animals. And you were just a girl out of her depth and far from home.

You didn't see it, but the outlaws looked at each other, impressed. Only the boss could tame a filly with a single look.

The house was much cooler than outside, but the boss didn't give you any time to examine it. Just guided you up the stairs and into a large bedroom. White curtains stirred in the breeze, the bedding neat and clean.

He locked the door behind you. A quiet click that made your heart race.

You jumped when his hands came to rest on your shoulders. You could hear the other outlaws outside, the clink of harnesses and buckles as they let the horses out to pasture.

His hands moved from your shoulders to your upper arms, squeezed.

"Do you know why we took you?"

You shook your head. Ransom, maybe? But your pa was just a run of the mill rancher. Surely there were better targets for quick cash than you.

The outlaw laughed quietly, just a soft breath of amusement.

"Not the faintest clue, huh?"

He let go of you and you heard the soft rustle of material as he shrugged out of his duster.

He turned you around and you finally got to see his face. He'd taken off his Stetson and bandana too, and the man looking back at you was a hardened outlaw in every way. He was a lot older than you, with thick blonde hair going to grey at the edges. Handsome, with a strong jaw covered in light stubble. Grizzled, but muscular and lean for his age.

There was a small, amused smile on his lips.

He kept his hands on your arms and guided you backwards, until your back hit the wall.

"You wanna take a guess? Why'd we ride all the way out to town to steal you?"

Whatever you said was muffled by your gag. He clicked his tongue.

"You're gonna have to use your worlds, darlin'."

He ran his thumb across your cheek, across the gag. "Or maybe not. I like you just like this too."

He was close. Closer than any man had ever been. It was terrifying. Tears spilled down your cheeks, running across your gag and soaking in.

He sighed, caught one on his thumb.

"None of that now girl. I ain't gonna be rough with you. And in time, I reckon you'll come to like it."

Your dress was buttoned at the front, all the way to your neck. He grabbed both sides of your collar and ripped.

You tried to jerk away from him, but he was too close and the only way out was blocked by the wall. Buttons scattered across the room with little plinks.

The only thing keeping your dress on was the fact that your hands were tied behind your back. But the outlaw didn't let that stop him for long.

He leaned down and pulled a knife from his boot.

"Don't squirm 'round and I won't cut you, alright?"

Sound advice, but not something you were about to listen to. You thrashed in his grip, twisting as much as you could. You didn't want that thing anywhere near you.

He grabbed your hair, and yanked your head backwards. You screamed into your gag, your whole scalp aching.

You might have continued fighting, but that's when you felt the cool metal of his knife at your throat. Not the sharp edge, but still enough of a reminder to keep you still.

"Good. Not so hard, is it?"

The knife moved away from your neck and to your sleeve. He slipped the blade between your skin and the fabric and yanked upwards.

Your sleeve tore with an ugly ripping sound, all the way down to the wrist. You whined into your gag, but he ignored you and repeated it on the other side.

He was breathing heavier now, even though the work of keeping you still couldn't have been much of a challenge for a man as strong as him. He put the handle of his knife in his mouth and used both hands to pull your dress off you. It pooled at your ankles, ruined.

You still had your chemise, but the thin white fabric was almost as bad as being naked. Your nipples poked through and he narrowed in on them, one hand coming up to cup your breast. His teeth were biting into the handle of his knife, hard enough to leave indents in the wood. Like a man struggling to control himself. He breathed out slowly, just feeling the weight of your tits in his palms.

You were crying so hard you almost couldn't see his face. A mixture of pity and want.

He kneeled down to put his knife away and stayed on his knees, hands coming to your hips. He looked up at you, blue eyes bright with something you didn't yet know how to recognise. Lust. Want.

His thumbs stroked circles into your skin, your chemise the only barrier between you and him.

"If I was a better man, I'd almost be sorry about this."

He grabbed your leg and hooked your thigh over his shoulder. You almost stumbled, forced to keep your back against the wall if you didn't want to loose your balance.

His fingers gathered your chemise from the hem up, pinning it at your waist with his palms. You were wearing stockings, simple white ones that reached your mid thigh, and plain lace garters.

All in all, it was a damn nice framing for your bare cunt.

God, he could practically feel his mouth watering.

He didn't give you any warning. Just slipped his tongue between your lips. Hot, wet, like nothing you'd ever felt. You tried to squirm away, practically tried to climb up the wall to get away from him. But he had you trapped, one massive palm on your hip and the other on your thigh.

He found your hole real easy. Slipped his tongue all the way in, the bridge of his nose grinding into your clit. You whined at him to stop it, to please just let you go, but with the gag, all he heard was a pretty little sound that made him keep going.

He sucked on your clit, his jawline standing out in sharp relief. His stubble scraped your thighs. So masculine, so unbearably, overwhelmingly manly.

With the way he held you still, you couldn't do anything except take it. Feel even inch of his tongue, feel his hot breath on your skin, feel his nails scraping your thigh. You wanted to hate it. You wanted to be disgusted by it.

But oh, it felt good.

Sometimes, when the neighbour's handsome son came over, you'd feel a little throbbing ache between your legs. This was exactly like that, cranked up to a thousand.

You whined again, and he must have been the Devil's own son, because he just doubled down. Swirled the flat of his tongue across your whole clit and then ran it down all the way to you ass.

You thighs were shaking, and the pit of your stomach felt tight with something your couldn't explain.

"That's my girl." He sounded pleased, smug. Practically cooing at you in his rough baritone. "Feels real good, don't it?"

If he didn't break soon, you felt like your whole body would. Something inside you was building, getting closer to the edge. And you were terrified of it. You breath was coming hard and fast.

Mercifully, he pulled away. Kissed the triangle of your pussy and then your inner thigh. You could feel his teeth against your skin when he smiled.

"Not yet. I ain't nearly close to done with you."

He stood and you weren't sure whether to be thankful or upset. You felt woozy, hot. Like heat stroke, or like getting drunk.

His mouth and chin glistened. He rubbed it dry on his palm, smirking all the while.

"I bet you feel real empty inside, huh sweetheart?"

You nodded your head, not sure where he was going with this. You did feel empty. There was a hot, throbbing itch in your stomach that you had no idea how to scratch.

"Aww, poor thing. I can take care of that for you."

His hands moved to his belt, blue eyes pinning you to the wall. When he smiled, there were lines around his eyes. They should have been comforting, a mark of someone who laughed often and laughed easy. They weren't.

You shook your head, pleading with your eyes. The tears were starting to come again, thick and fast. For a second or two, with his tongue deep in your core, you'd forgotten that he'd want something in exchange.

His eyes hardened, his smile not moving an inch.

"I will take care of it, girl. You can cry if you want, but we've come too far to stop now."

He grabbed your thigh and pulled your leg up, forced you back against the wall. Your whole cunt was wet and glistening with his spit.

Something hot and hard rubbed between your pussy lips. You shuddered, tried to move away. His other arm came around your waist and he pulled you against his chest. The smell of him was overwhelming - gunpowder and leather and whiskey. He smelled like a man. He smelled like your ruin.

Your forehead fell against his collarbone, and his chin came to rest on the crown of your head. The same way a father might hold his daughter after a nightmare.

But there was nothing fatherly about the cock nudging at your entrance.

"Shhh, you're okay. It ain't gonna hurt."

Liar. Terrible, heartless liar.

He pushed in and it felt like your whole body was splitting apart. It burned.

You sobbed into his chest, not entirely sure what was happening to you. This was the sort of thing that was only whispered about. The sort of thing that was kept vague for good, obedient girls until their wedding nights. The only thing you knew for a fact was that it hurt and you wanted it to stop.

He groaned, pressed a kiss against your hair.

"Sweet little thing, ain't ya? Gonna be good 'fer me? Gonna take it nice and deep?"

You couldn't answer. There was only the stretch of his cock inside you and the oppressive tightness of his arms.

He set a slow, drawn out pace. Cock pulling all the way out to the tip and then sliding right back in. You could feel every inch.

Not gentle, but not needlessly mean either. You were shivering in his arms, pussy fluttering like a heartbeat around him.

No one but him knew how fucking difficult it was to keep so slow. Tight, tiny little thing bleeding and crying all over him. Any red blooded man would want to rut into you like a stallion. See just how many tears he could wring out of you.

It was only experience and determination that held him back. If he was a younger man...

It was the right decision to have you first. Not even his second in command - that tall bastard with all the self control in the world - could have managed this.

He huffed out a laugh.

"You're little too young for me, doll. Reckon I could be your father."

He slid back inside you, grinding against your clit in a way that made you whimper.

"Shitty fucking father though. To be doing this to my little girl."

He let go of waist and cupped your jaw in his palm. Tilted your head back, his nose and lips skimming up your neck. You smelled so fucking good. Nothing in this world was as sweet as a needy, crying girl.

"You gonna call me daddy, little girl? Gonna beg me to be nice and let you go?"

You whimpered, a pathetic little sound through the gag. It only made him smile against your neck.

"Thaaat's it. Just take it. Let me break you in. Gonna be all stretched out and sweet when I'm done with you, yeah?"

He sucked at your neck, at the delicate spot where your shoulder started to slope away. A little immature maybe, to want to mark you up like an animal, but wasn't he being plenty mature already? Wasn't he being just saintly in his patience?

"Fuck, you're getting close, ain'tcha? Can feel you gettin' all tight."

He pulled back to look into your eyes, overflowing with tears and just so damn scared.

"You ain't got no idea what's 'bout to happen, do ya?"

He pulled almost all the way out, and then slammed back in, hard. Your tits jumped and your eyes fluttered shut.

"Just relax and let it happen. It's gonna feel reeaal good."

You tilted your head back and he followed you, lips right back at your throat.

He picked up the pace, trying not to be too rough and slowly failing. The closer he got to his own end, the less important kindness seemed. It wasn't long 'fore he was slamming into you so hard he could feel your tits bouncing. His breath was coming fast, each exhale almost a growl.

"Take it, just like that. C'mon doll, just let me fuck you. Just let me make you mine."

You bit down on your gag and came. Your whole body shook, your nails digging into your palms. You didn't now what he'd done to you, but you couldn't stop it. Your pussy was a clenching, sensitive mess. You felt light headed enough to faint. And the only sound and thought in your head was his voice, right in your ear and rough with barely held back want.

"That's my girl. My good fucking girl."

A good man might have slowed down then. Might have realised just how sensitive you were. He didn't. He kept pistoning his cock into you, fucked you through your orgasm.

You writhed on his dick, in pain and overwhelmed and more scared than you'd ever been. And all of it just served to make him harder, to bring him closer. Even he had to admit he was a bastard for enjoying it so much. He didn't deserve something so sweet. All he deserved in life was a short dance with a noose. But who gave a fuck about that? He'd taken you, he'd stolen you, and like any good thief, he was going to enjoy you.

You felt it when he came. His cock pulsed and twitched inside you, and something hot dripped down your thigh.

He pressed his forehead against yours, hands so tight on you that you felt bruised.

He came down slowly. Kept you plugged up with his cock while he softened. The only sound in the room was his harsh breathing. You couldn't even cry anymore. All you wanted was to close your eyes and sleep and make the pain disappear.

He pulled back and tilted your chin up.

"Look at me."

You opened your eyes, tears still caught in your lashes.

"There she is. Ain't so bad, is it?"

All you could do was sniffle and hope he was bored of you.

He let you down carefully. You weren't steady on your feet at all.

"I've had a lot of blood on my cock over the years, darlin', but I reckon yours is the finest."

He kissed you. You were still gagged, so it was less a kiss and more so his lips pressing against yours.

When he finally stepped away from you, you almost wanted him back. You sank down to your knees, too dizzy to stand.

"Poor thing. Too much to handle, doll?"

He ran his fingers through your hair.

"You did so good, princess. Now just stay so sweet, and the rest of this day will go a hell of a lot easier for you."

You were too out of it to figure out what he meant. You closed your eyes and heard his spurs jingling as he walked away. The door creaked open and then he was gone.

You might have tried to run for it, but you ached so bad that even the thought of it was painful. Your hands were still tied as tight as they were before.

You didn't notice the footsteps or the voices until they were right outside the door.

"So much for bein' nice. Boss left her a right mess."

"Better than you woulda done. Least she's still in one piece."

They came to stand in front of you, two men with their bandanas pulled down around their throats.

You recognised their voices. These two were the most quarrelsome of the bunch. They still had their gun belts on, both of them carrying revolvers. Gunslingers then. Every gang had them.

"Look at her already on her knees 'fer us."

"Why you cryin' pretty girl? Was the boss too mean with ya?"

You looked up slowly. Boots first - silver spurs, well worn leather. Then their belts. And finally, their faces.

One was dark skinned, a crescent scar on his cheek and his hair cropped short. He rubbed his jaw as he looked at you, a half smile showing pearly white teeth.

"Oh, would ya look at those eyes? A man could drown in 'em."

The other was tanned golden with the sun, his eyes a pale green. He was still wearing his Stetson, and his dark hair was long enough to brush his shoulders.

"Boss must be getting old. He left some of her clothes on."

That made the dark one laugh. "Nah, I reckon it's meant to be a treat just 'fer us. Like unwrapping a present on Christmas mornin'."

The green eyed one squated down in front on you and grabbed your jaw. His hands were rough from labour, and his callouses scraped your skin. Whatever he saw in your eyes made him smile, but it didn't have a lick of kindness in it.

"Look at that...Boss really did break you in, didn't he filly?"

He stood and pulled you up with him, hand still clutching your jaw.

"I reckon she's gonna be real sweet to us. Gonna be all nice and obedient."

The other one came to stand behind you, his fingertips brushing the nape of your neck as he moved your hair out of the way.

"That right, filly? You gonna be all sweet?"

The green eyed one nodded your head for you. His eyes had a certain cruelty to them that made you want to step away. He seemed the type to use spurs and whips both, and to use them often.

He let go of your jaw and focused on the rest of you. And oh, what a lovely sight you were. All tied up and crying, your tits just visible through your chemise. A little virgin about to loose the rest of your innocence to his teeth. A fucking vision, a fucking dream.

He pinched one of your nipples and rolled it between his fingers. Your thin chemise wasn't any protection at all.

"Sensitive, ain'tcha?"

You whined. Not sure whether to pull away or step closer.

The gunslinger behind you wasn't in the mood to be left out. As his partner tugged and played with your nipples, his hands came to rest on your waist. And what huge hands they were. You could feel the heat of him even through your clothes.

He dropped his head to the nape of your neck and inhaled, his nose buried in your hair.

When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble.

"What do you want?"

The green eyed one looked you up and down, weighing his options. Finally, he smiled.

"I'll take her mouth."

Your whole body went cold. He couldn't mean...

"Hmm. That's fine with me." His hands dropped from your waist to your ass, squeezing. "I want to have her from the back anyway."

They must have been in perfect sync with each other. The one in front of you stood aside and the one behind you pushed you towards the bed. You stumbled, landed on the duvet chin first, your teeth slamming together despite the gag.

You didn't have time to push yourself up before they were tearing your chemise off. The thin straps ripped and your last bit of modesty floated to the floor in a tattered white heap. You were left in just your stockings.

The dark one pulled you up by your hips, one hand grabbing the rope around your wrists to keep you steady.

Smack.

Your whole body jerked forward, your ass cheek stinging.

One of them laughed, mocking. "Bet that'll leave a mark."

The dark one ran his palm over the welt, smiling though you couldn't see it.

"We promised the boss we would be nice, remember?"

The green eyed one circled the bed. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in your naked skin, your stockings, the tears soaking your gag.

His hands were on his belt. Not undoing it yet, just watching you.

"Y'know, I give that tall bastard a lot of shit, but even I gotta say he was right this time. She's a real cute thing."

The man behind you was still stroking your ass, squeezing and watching your flesh give under his fingers. So soft, so fucking pliable.

He hummed quietly, more concerned with you than with his partner. He slipped his thumb down between your cheeks, catching on your asshole for a second. That sent a jolt of panic through you. They wouldn't...

He must have felt you moving, because he sighed and let his fingers continue downwards. Smearing cum and blood across your pussy lips.

"Not today," he said, soft enough for just you to hear. "Boss wouldn't like that."

That wasn't reassuring to hear. It meant that he still wanted it. Wanted to fuck your virgin ass without any care for the pain, for the hurt. The thing stopping him wasn't empathy, but obedience.

He rubbed tight, harsh circles into your clit. You were still sensitive and you pleaded into your gag, asking him to be just a bit more gentle. Either he couldn't understand you or didn't bother to even hear you, because he carried on, fingerpads rough as sandpaper.

The green eyed one noticed though. He seemed to notice just about everything.

"Want me to take that gag off sweetheart?"

You nodded your head frantically. The sides of your lips felt raw and you couldn't stand the taste of it.

He kneeled with one leg on the bed and undid the material. When he pulled it away, thin lines of spit followed.

You sucked in a lungful of air, coughing. He gathered your hair out of your face, held it all in a loose fist at the back of your head.

"All better?"

Maybe you were wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"...yes." You swallowed, your voice still hoarse. "Thank you."

He tilted his head, smirking.

"So polite. Boss really did a number on ya, huh? Or are ya just a well bred little lady?"

You didn't get a chance to answer, because the other gunslinger ground his palm against your cunt. You yelped and jerked forward on instinct.

The green eyed one tightened his hold on your hair.

"None of that. You can take it."

"I can't! It hurts."

His free hand tugged at his belt, pulling it free of the belt loops. You blanched. What the hell did he need that for?

"Ain't even been a minute and you're already whining? C'mon pretty, there's better things to do with your mouth than that."

He let go of your hair long enough to loop the belt around your neck, the leather wrapped around his fist. He tugged and it tightened, metal buckle pressing icy cold against your skin.

He pulled upwards, forced you to look at him. His cat eyes were mean, amused at seeing you leashed.

"You even think 'bout usin' your teeth and I'll pull this so tight you won't even be able to think 'bout breathing. Got it?"

What was he talking about? Your teeth?

Your answer came soon enough. With his belt off, it was real easy for him to take his cock out. He sighed, relieved to have it free.

The only thing keeping you in place was the belt around your neck. Even still, you pulled backwards until you couldn't go any further.

It was huge.

Thick, with veins running all the way to the tip. That was supposed to fit inside of you? You'd never seen a man's cock before. Even when the boss fucked you, you'd only felt it. No fucking wonder it hurt so bad, if they were all this size.

It was horrifying, and still you couldn't look away.

"Ain't it a sight?"

He grabbed it with his free hand and yanked your head down with the belt, until the tip brushed your lips.

"Come have a closer look."

Maybe if your hands were free, you'd be able to pull away. But as it was, you were staying balanced only because of his grip on the belt and his partner's grip on your arms.

He rubbed the tip across your lips, leaving behind a sticky coating of precum.

"Don't be shy," he purred, "Give it a little kiss."

The belt tightened until you listened. You pecked the side of it, where it wasn't so gross and sticky.

"Atta girl. Now open wide."

You desperately didn't want to. He tasted of salt, and his cock was so hard that you couldn't even imagine how it would fit.

You didn't want to, but what choice did you have?

You opened your mouth and he pushed himself past your lips with a groan. The tip scraped against your tongue, soft as velvet and tasting like the sea.

He let go of his dick and tangled his hand in your hair, pushing your head lower. Until the tip brushed the back of your throat. You gagged, shivering all around him.

"God, your mouth is fucking heaven sent."

He pulled out slowly, until it was just the tip sitting in your mouth.

"Are you gonna join me or what?"

The other gunslinger snorted.

"Fucking impatient. You gotta treat a lady gentle on her first time."

You heard the rustle of clothing behind you, and the hand that was playing with your cunt came to rest on your hip, fingers digging into the flesh for a good grip.

Your cunt felt cold without his touch, but his fingers were quickly replaced with his cock. The head nudged at your entrance, hot enough that you could practically feel it radiating. The leaking pre mixed with the sticky come already on your lips, thin strands of white pulling and breaking as he settled himself against you.

You wanted to say something, anything, to make them stop, but the gunslinger still had his dick in your mouth.

"Hmmm. Nice and warm and I ain't even pushed inside yet."

"Ain't she? Like she was made for us."

His hand slid from your hair to you jaw, thumb tracing your cheek. He could see the bulge of his cock against your cheek - it made you look a little chipmunk getting all cozy and ready for winter. Your tears were caught on your lashes, silver dew drops like you just took a swim.

"You heard me, baby? You're made for us. Made to fuck us and keep us happy. Our little lady."

They both pushed into you at the same time.

Thick cock bullying into you, trapping you between them with nowhere to go. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't. You couldn't even think. Couldn't even breathe.

The green eyed cowboy pulled on your leash and forced you to tilt your head back, bare your throat to him. He pushed deeper into you, until his dick was down your throat and your nose was brushing the hard muscles of his stomach.

He held you there, cock down your throat and tears collecting in your eyes, while his partner started thrusting.

You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't pull away, couldn't fight him. You could just look up at him, eyes all wide and scared. Your panic was thick in your blood and he drank it in.

Smirking, keeping you at his mercy. He knew you couldn't breathe, and he still held you on his cock.

Your heart was racing and you felt light headed before he finally pulled out. You gasped, thick strings of spit connecting you. He only gave you enough time to catch a few deep breaths before he was back in your mouth, thrusting. Going just as deep but thankfully pulling out.

You gagged and choked and felt like you were drowning on his cock. And all the while, his partner yanked you back and slammed balls deep into you.

It was too much. You couldn't focus on anything. You were limp in their hands, letting them fuck you and just trying to survive it.

You weren't sure how long it took. Your whole world was narrowed down to just them - their hands on you, getting tighter and meaner the closer they got to coming.

The one fucking you from the back let go of your hip and curled his whole arm around your waist, leaning over you until his lips were on your neck. Fucking you hunched over like a dog in heat.

He bit your shoulder, sunk his teeth in with a snarl.

They didn't talk much anymore. There weren't any words left. Just the need to fuck and claim and come.

The sounds were the worst. The slick squelching of a cock in your cunt, the slap of skin on skin, the heavy snarls for you to take it like a good girl. And their raspy breathing, like stallions after a gallop.

The gunslinger pulled harder on your leash, keeping you still while he fucked your face. He's teeth were gritted tight, his eyes narrowed and focused entirely on you.

The dark one must have hit something deep inside you, because you made a whining, moaning sort of noise that vibrated all through his cock.

That was what did it. He forced his cock all the way down your throat, held you in place while he came.

When he pulled out, you were coughing so hard your whole chest ached.

That's when you felt it - hot spunk splattering all over your asshole. Your whole body shuddered at the feeling.

The man behind you kissed your back between your shoulder blades and slowly moved down. When he came to your ass cheeks, he sunk his teeth in with a playful growl.

He flipped you onto your back, and you sunk bonelessly down onto the covers. Your nipples were tender and your neck was a patchwork of marks.

The dark skinned one flopped down next to you and threw a possessive arm around your waist. He hummed, pleased as a bear before winter.

"Best fuck I've had in ages."

His partner was silent, his fingers toying with the belt still around your neck. You tilted your head back to look at him.

He was smiling, not soft exactly but about as close as a cruel bastard like him could get. He was so handsome, when he wasn't trying to choke you.

He sighed and let his fingers drift up your cheeks.

"I wish we could stay, pretty. But the day ain't done just yet."

The other one grumbled. "Can't we just lay here for a bit? I've got my girl all nice and snug. Why should I let her go?"

"Boss's orders, that's why. We gotta play nice and share."

"Why? Those bastards don't deserve her."

"And we do?"

He didn't bother to answer, just pushed himself to his elbows and looked down at you. His eyes were a deep brown. Sweet, almost.

"No," he said quietly, "We don't."

He leaned down and kissed your cheek. Soft, like a husband would. He stood and only looked back at you when he was at the door. Hard man, killer and gunslinger that he was, you thought you saw just a little guilt in his eyes.

When he was gone, the green eyed gunslinger ran his hands through your hair.

"He's right, y'know. We don't deserve a girl like you."

There wasn't any guilt in his voice, just a deep sense of satisfaction.

"But we've got you anyway. If the world gave folk what they deserved, you'd never have been so unlucky to catch our eye in the first place."

He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your other cheek, and then nipped at your jaw. A coyote savouring a bone.

"You'll learn to take it, sweetheart. And when I'm done, you'll learn to like it."

He left his belt around your neck and let the door slam shut behind him.

You could hear when they joined the others out in the yard. Their laughter drifted up to you, sharp as a wild dog's bark.

You closed your eyes. On your back in nothing but your stockings and a leash. It wasn't the sort of thing you'd ever imagined as a possibility. Hell, a lot of today was filled with things you'd never even thought about.

You hurt in just about every place. But parts of you throbbed with a pain that wasn't entirely unwanted.

Traitorous body, traitorous mind.

You couldn't possibly like this. You were being used by criminals, killers. Your virginity was just another prize for them to steal. You were a good girl, raised in a good home with upright, moral parents. You weren't some lady of the night, some harlot, to enjoy their roughness.

Right?

When the door sighed open, you didn't even bother to open your eyes.

"These young ones don't know any gentleness, eh beauty?"

His voice was calm. The sort of soft tone you'd use with a filly still nervous 'bout the bit.

You could hear his footsteps. Heavy boots but no spurs.

You flinched when he touched the belt around your neck, but he didn't do much more than run his fingers across the leather.

"Let's get this off you. Idiots. You don't harness a creature so fine."

He pulled it off your neck carefully and then touched the bruises it left behind.

"Open your eyes for me, beauty. Let me see you."

You almost didn't. What more was there to see? Another man with too tight hands and a hunger that wouldn't end?

It was his voice that did it. So kind. No growl behind the words, no clenched teeth snarl.

The first thing you saw were his eyes. A dark hazel, like an eagle's.

"Ah, just as pretty as I thought. Do you want to sit up for me? Those ropes must be hurting something awful by now."

He was older than you, but not by too much. Older than the gunslingers, but not nearly as old as the boss. His hair was tied in braid that fell almost all the way down his back. Lakota, if you had to guess, or maybe Crow.

There was a pair of workman's gloves shoved in the pocket of his jeans, but he didn't carry a pistol. The wrangler most likely.

You sat up slowly, wary. He didn't seem awfully worked up about a naked woman sprawled on the bed in front of him. Maybe he wasn't so bad...

He untied your hands without letting his own wander.

You flexed your fingers and carefully brought your hands to your lap. Your shoulders ached from being stuck in one position for so long.

"Will you let me go?"

"Oh, beauty." He touched his knuckles to your cheek. "That's what you want, isn't it? To go back home?"

"Yes." Your throat felt tight with tears. "More than anything."

He closed his eyes.

"It hurts to see you cry, beauty. It hurts to see these marks on you. But even if I was the only one holding you back, even if it was entirely up to me... I wouldn't."

"Are you going to do the same thing as the rest of them?"

He held your face in his palms, thumbs tracing your cheekbones. He smiled, but it was awfully sad.

"It's been real long time since I've had a woman, beauty. And never one so fine. I'm still just a man."

You were crying again, though you didn't realise it. Tears washing hot over his fingers.

"Shhh." He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I'll be gentle. I won't hurt you."

He undid his belt slowly, eyes on you the entire time. You were on your knees again, your stockings making you look oh so innocent and oh so filthy all at once.

He grabbed your hand before he took his cock out. You pulled away, but his grip was too strong. Not rough, not hurting you. Just too firm to escape.

He brought you hand to his crotch, pressed your palm against his cock. Even through the thick denim of his jeans, you could feel how hard it was.

"All your doing, beauty. That's all your fault."

He undid the last button and his dick pushed it's way free. Big and no less intimidating for being the second one today. His fingers were knotted between yours and he dragged your hand up his shaft. He sighed, a man finally getting release.

"Here, this will go faster if you use your mouth."

His other hand came to rest on the nape of your neck. Not forcing you down exactly, but heavy, inexorable. Trying to refuse him was like fighting the pull of the moon.

He didn't force himself into you like the gunslinger did. Just kept using your hand - still dry - to stroke himself.

"Come now beauty. Just a little lick and it will all be over. You want that, don't you?"

You did. You wanted this day to end.

You cautiously licked the head of his cock, your tongue almost blistering hot. He groaned and for just a second, the hand on your nape tightened. Like he really did just want to pull you onto him and have his own way.

"There you go. Not so terrible, is it?"

It wasn't. He tasted salty, but not in an unpleasant way. And hearing him groan like that made some part of your gut flutter.

You felt just a little braver. When he pulled you closer, you let him. He rubbed the tip against your lips, smearing pre-cum all over them.

You didn't want his cock down your throat. Didn't want to feel like you were choking. But everything he'd done to you so far had been miles different to the gunslingers. Maybe he'd be different in this too.

Slowly, you opened your mouth. You expected him to shove himself inside you, betray the tiny bit of trust he'd built.

He didn't. Instead, he stood perfectly still. He even stopped using your hand, though he kept it wrapped around the base. Just letting you get comfortable. Letting you explore.

It was what your daddy did when he was working to tame a colt. He'd let them get used to him a little at a time, until they didn't mind his touch at all.

You were too nervous to take him in much deeper than the tip. But he didn't complain at all, just watched you with those golden eyes.

You sucked on him. Just the tip, but you wrapped your lips around him and treated it like it was candy. You flicked your tongue across the underside of his head, eyes locked on his to see if he liked it.

And from the way his breathing was picking up, you reckoned he liked it plenty.

Hadn't the gunslinger wanted you to kiss his? Maybe that's what men wanted. You pulled off his cock with a wet little pop and turned your attention to his shaft. You kissed him - small, shy little pecks all the way down to his hand and then back up again.

He was smiling, head tilted. He almost seemed amused.

"So that's how you like it, huh?"

You hummed, not sure how to respond. Both the gunslingers and the boss kept getting faster the closer they were to finishing. Maybe if you used your hand...

He seemed surprised when you moved your palm, but it didn't last long. When he was sure of what you were doing, he let go of your hand and let you do it all by yourself.

There was a lot of friction and you couldn't go as fast as you wanted without yanking on him. You needed some kind of lube, something to make him all slick...

Oh.

Of course.

You licked him, all the way from balls to tip, trying to drool on his cock as much as possible. He shivered, voice getting just a bit tighter.

"Careful girl. You're playing with fire."

You didn't know what he meant. All you wanted was to finish this. Be able to rest and dream sweet dreams, dreams without men's hands on your body.

His cock was wet with your spit and when you started using your hand, it squelched lewdly.

He groaned, his hand coming to your jaw and his thumb tracing your lips.

"Open your mouth for me, beauty."

You did. You couldn't look away from his eyes. That burnished gold like dead man's treasure.

He pressed his thumb against your tongue, ran it over your teeth. He seemed just as captivated by you as you were by him. The men outside were laughing again, voices raised and vulgar. But he didn't for a second look away from you.

He smiled and said something to you in a language you didn't understand.

Your hand was moving a lot faster now that you'd found your stride, your thumb brushing over his slit on every third stroke. The only sign that he was getting closer was his breathing.

At the last second, he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and rested his tip against your lips.

Hot spunk shot at you, some of it dribbling down your chin and some of it coating your tongue. He groaned, jaw clenched tight. He was panting like a dog on a hot day, still looking at you like you were the finest thing he'd ever seen.

He pulled his cock away and replaced it with his thumb, smearing his load between your lips and across your teeth. He spoke in his language again, words just a little more forceful than before.

You thought he was done with you. Thought he'd be satisfied with leaving.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed you. One hand was still on your nape and you had no room to pull away.

It was your first proper kiss. He was hungry, his tongue scraping across your teeth. One hand came to rest behind you on the bed, and he slowly forced you down, still caught between his lips and his hand.

He ended up between your legs, still not letting you go even though you were both almost out of breath.

"Beauty," he muttered, lips pressing against on yours.

When he finally broke away, he didn't go far. He rested his forehead to yours, breathing hard. You were sharing the same air, in that tight little space. And somehow that felt more intimate than anything else the outlaws had done to you.

He was practically lying on top of you, the hand that held your neck now tangled in your hair, and his other at your waist. He held you like a lover would.

A lover. Would you ever have one, if they let you go? Who would want you after your virgin's blood was spilled?

He kissed your cheek, slow and lingering.

"Oh beauty, how can I be so lucky?"

He didn't let you go. Just held you underneath him and laid his head on the side of your neck.

You were tense, muscles all coiled and ready to be hurt. But in his arms, you relaxed a little at a time without even realising it. This man wouldn't hurt you, whatever his reasons were.

His dark hair had come loose from it's braid and you absentmindedly brushed it off his brow. That made him smile just a little.

It had grown quiet outside and the only sound was of the breeze rustling the curtains and his soft breathing.

"How did such a kind man become an outlaw?"

You didn't really mean to ask that. And kind couldn't be applied to him without qualifiers. But in the face of everything that had happened to you, his softness was saintly.

He hummed against your neck.

"Bad luck. Bad people. Having nowhere to go back to. It changes you."

You swallowed, sad though you weren't sure why.

"I'm sorry."

He pushed himself up and looked into your eyes.

"Don't be. You're my reward, my reparation."

He brushed his knuckles across your cheek again. "I've waited my whole life for you."

You wanted to ask why. What made you so special? Why did he want to keep you?

The door opened with a bang.

"Are ya really still busy? That ain't fuckin' fair."

The gunslingers were standing in the door, both of them looking irritated. Your whole body tensed. They couldn't be back so soon, could they?

The wrangler pushed himself to his knees. The way he was sitting, your hips ended up on his lap with your legs on either side of him. He put a hand on your thigh absent-mindedly.

When he looked back at them, any softness in him drained away. He was just another outlaw with hard eyes.

"Is it the boy? Boss is really letting you go through with it?"

"It's 'bout time he became a man. And you're the one who was goin' on 'bout playing nice."

The wrangler sighed and looked back at you. When he spoke, it was just for you to hear. 

"I don't want to leave you, beauty. But boss's orders."

He leaned down and kissed you, ignoring the gunslingers' cat calls.

When he stood up, you had half a mind to ask him to stay. You almost reached for him. But the gunslingers were watching you and something in you whispered that showing him favour was a terrible idea. You kept your hands knotted in the sheets. For both your sakes.

When he was gone, you sat up and pushed yourself all the way back to the headboard. Hugged your knees to your chest. You hadn't noticed him earlier, but the gunslingers had a boy with them.

They were half dragging him into the room, one with his hand on the boy's nape and the other with a fist in his shirt.

He was young, barely past eighteen. Slightly built, with pale eyes and bronze curls. He wasn't looking at you. Or more accurately, he was doing everything possible to avoid looking at you.

The gunslingers gave him a rough shove and he landed on the bed, bouncing a little before he pushed himself up.

"Gonna get your first taste of a woman boy, and she's a real fine one."

The green eyed gunslinger leaned over and grabbed your ankle. With one brutal yank, he dragged you away from the headboard and all the way to the foot of the bed.

"Missed me, sweetheart? 'Cause I sure missed you."

He caught one of your wrists and tutted.

"Just like him to let you loose. Fuckin' hell, don't he realise how much easier you are when you're all tied up?"

He knelt with one boot on the mattress and pulled you up, twisting your arm behind your back so you ended up with your head tucked under his chin.

"We was feelin' real bad 'bout hurting you, pretty. So we thought we'd make it up to you. Brought you somethin' you'll really enjoy."

You were skeptical of anything he did. He wasn't the charitable kind.

The boy finally looked at you. His eyes were round, nervous.

"Do... do you want this?"

The gunslinger slapped a palm over your mouth before you could answer him, dragging you closer to him at the same time.

" 'Course she wants it. She'd be fighting a whole lot harder if she didn't. Ain't that right?"

"Would be clawing our eyes out if she really didn't want it," the other gunslinger agreed.

The boy looked rightly skeptical. You were crying an awful lot for someone who "wanted it."

"But..."

The dark skinned gunslinger sighed and grabbed the boy's neck.

"Look at her. You're tellin' me you ain't getting just a little hard seeing her like that?"

"Yes but -"

"But what? You want her. And she's right there for the taking. It ain't complicated."

The man holding you was obviously getting impatient.

"You wanna be a man? Wanna come on jobs with us? Than fucking earn it."

That seemed to decide him. He crawled towards you, just as scared to touch you as you were to be touched.

"What do I do?"

"Open her legs and start eating."

He touched your knee. He gulped, focused entirely on the feel of you. He slowly let his hands drift up your thighs.

When he reached your mid thighs, he tried to pull them apart just a little. You kept your legs as tightly closed as you could. Whatever you tried to say was muffled by the gunslinger's hand, but it was enough to make the boy look up at your face.

You could see it in his eyes. The desire to have you and the horror at knowing this was all forced. In the end, guilt won.

"I can't."

He pulled away from you, his fingers shaking.

"She doesn't want this. How can you hold her down and make her take it?"

The dark skinned gunslinger clicked his teeth in annoyance.

"God, could you be any more pathetic? It don't matter what she wants. All that matters is that you're strong enough to take what you want."

The boy was almost off the bed when the gunslinger grabbed his hair and yanked him back.

"It's a lesson you gotta learn boy. Or you ain't gonna live long in this business."

The boy yelped, hands coming up to try and pull himself loose. You could have told him it was useless - you couldn't escape their hold no matter how hard you fought.

He dragged the boy across the bed and back to you.

The gunslinger holding you could see where this was going and he laughed, mean and mocking.

"Gonna be the hard way, eh?"

His hand dropped from your mouth and curled around your throat. He squeezed, just hard enough to remind you of his strength.

"Be a good little pet and open your legs."

You didn't. Hadn't they done enough already? They'd ruined you. Why not just leave the boy alone?

The gunslinger growled. "Ain't listening so well without my belt around your throat, is that it?"

He twisted your arm further up your back, until your whole shoulder was throbbing. You squirmed, arching against him to get the pressure off. 

"Do I gotta teach you a whole new lesson in obedience? I promise I'm a much harder master than the boss."

He let go of you throat and grabbed your thigh, his fingers digging into the meat. His partner was quick to do the same on your other leg. It wasn't any good fighting them. They weren't scared of hurting you and they didn't care if they left bruises.

They wrenched your thighs apart and the gunslinger shoved the boys head between your legs.

"You ain't scared of a lil' blood, are ya? Clean her up nice and good."

The boy looked up at you with tears brimming in his waterline.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't have the boss's skill. His tongue was soft, hesitant. Probing, but totally unsure what to do.

You shivered at the feeling of his lips on your clit, his warm breath tickling your thighs.

The gunslinger growled and pushed him further down, until his nose was grinding into your folds.

"She ain't gonna get away. Use your whole tongue, suck on her, bite. Fuck's sake, do we gotta do everything for you?"

The one at your back laughed and nipped your cheek.

"She wants it though. Just look at those pretty tears."

The boy whimpered but did as he was told, dragging his tongue all the way up. His hands came to rest on your thighs, skin so much softer than the other men's.

His teeth brushed your clit and you gasped. The boy froze.

And then, he did it again.

You shuddered, thighs shaking just a little. He didn't seem to notice it, but his grip on your legs was getting tighter. He focused on the sensitive spot he'd found, raking his tongue across it.

You made another small, involuntary sound.

The man at your back purred. "There. Ain't that sweet to hear?"

The boy started to suck on your clit, tongue hot and wet. He pushed himself deeper, his nose and chin both buried in your cunt. He didn't even notice when the gunslinger let go of his hair.

He curled his arm around your lower back and pulled you closer to him, almost lifting you off the bed. The wet sounds of his sucking filled the room.

The gunslinger let go of you thigh, satisfied that the boy had a good grip on you. He kissed the corner of your lips, his hand coming up to play with your tits.

"Y'know, we never did get to make you come. Can't help wonderin' what you sound like."

You kept your jaw clenched tight. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

He must have read your mind, because he chuckled. Pinched your nipple hard enough that you bucked in his grip.

"Oh, you're going to come for us. Ain't that right boy?"

The boy muttered something and went right back to eating you out. You could feel the same heat in your belly as when the boss had you. Like a band about to snap. Every little move was too much, every flick of his tongue on your clit was somehow more intense.

You squirmed, trying everything you could to get him off. The boy ignored you. Just held on a little tighter and pinned you thigh to the bed.

"Please," you whined. "It's too much."

The gunslingers snickered at that.

"Poor darlin'. Does it hurt real good?"

"Don't fight it. Just let it happen. No one will know except us."

"And we're real good at keeping secrets."

The extra mean gunslinger pressed his cheek against yours and looked down at the boy between your legs.

"Don't tell me you're shy. We're real well acquainted by now, ain't we?"

You hated when he spoke to you like that. All sweetly condescending.

The boy wasn't letting up. Just kept sucking your clit and dipping his flexed tongue into your hole, switching from one to the other like he couldn't get enough. Like you were water in the desert and he'd drop dead without you in his mouth.

You fisted the duvet in your free hand, trying to distract yourself. No good. Your body had wants and needs of its own.

You could feel it building and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it.

You threw your head back and bit your lip, but it still wasn't enough. Small whines and gasps slipped through.

Your cunt was clenching, your whole belly a warm knot finally coming undone. It felt better than good.

It felt fucking incredible.

The boy didn't seem to notice. He just kept at it, even though your clit was swollen and aching and bright with blood.

The gunslinger noticed though. You could feel him smiling against your neck.

He tugged at your earlobe with his teeth and then kissed all the way down to your shoulder.

"Maybe we ought to be nicer, if that's what you sound like."

"Like a fox in a trap. Whinin' so nice 'fer us."

Your whole body felt like you touched lightening. And the boy's tongue was the worst if it.

"Please, enough. I...can't..."

The dark skinned gunslinger leaned closer to you, smiling in a way that wasn't nice at all.

"You're so sweet when you beg, filly. Ask politely and I'll get him off you."

You swallowed your pride. What was left of it after today anyway? They'd seen far too much of you for you to hold onto false modesty.

"Please. It's too much. Just make it stop."

Maybe it was your voice or maybe it was your tears or maybe he was just feeling merciful after emptying his balls inside you. He grabbed the boy's hair and hauled him up.

The kid's lips were red and swollen, his whole jaw slick with spit and spunk. He looked dazed, eyes still on the spot between your thighs.

"I'm not done yet. Can't I just..."

"Ain't complaining now, are ya? You see why we went through all that trouble for her?"

He was still holding onto you and he made a half hearted tug to get you closer to him.

"Five more minutes. Please."

The gunslinger scoffed. "You think just 'cause you had a taste you can make demands?"

He pulled the boy's hair and dragged him off the bed. His jeans were bulging at the crotch and his eyes never left you.

"But you said -"

"We said that you'd get a taste. Nothin' more."

The gunslinger holding you spoke up, his lips still pressed against your shoulder.

"You gotta earn it boy. Our girl ain't gonna be wasted on some greenhorn."

"Gonna have to make do with your fist, like the rest of us had to."

When the boy was off the bed, the gunslinger let go of your arm and shoved you forward. You landed on your forearms, your body sprawled in front of him.

He planted a hard smack on your ass and leaned over you, lips brushing your hair.

"You'd better dream about me sweetheart. Better feel me in your mouth when you close your eyes."

His fingers swiped across your cunt, rough and probing. You winced at the feel of him.

"Or else I'll just have to fuck you so hard the memory is burned into your mind."

You looked over your shoulder, eyes catching his for just a second. Long enough to realise he meant every word of his threat. He smirked, satisfied.

He stood and grabbed the boy by his upper arm. Together with his partner, they bundled him out the door. Business all finished, eh?

You sagged into the bed and watched them leave, your cunt still pulsing when you moved. You were exhausted and you looked it, too tired to push yourself up.

A hand caught the door before it closed.

Another one? How much more were you supposed to take?

The newcomer nudged the door back open and stood there for a minute, watching you. He had a bowl of water in his hand, a wash rag thrown over the side.

You hadn't seen his face before, but you recognised him. The tall, well spoken one who made you ride on his horse.

He was dressed better than most of the others. A black, silk waist coat and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. A silver cross dangled on a chain around his neck.

It made you want to laugh. What God could he worship, when he was a sinner so black?

"Hello dove."

You didn't answer. Just watched him with your cunt fluttering and your lips bruised. 

He was the palest out of them all, skin more like a scholar's than a cowboy's. He had black hair, as long as the gunslinger's, but tied back. He was probably Chinese, but born on this side of the Pacific. His accent was almost the same as yours.

He walked towards you slowly. Not nervous, but more like he was worried about spooking you.

He put the bowl of water down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, half facing you.

"It must hurt."

You stayed quiet. What did he know of hurt? He wasn't the one being held down and fucked.

He nodded at the bowl. You hadn't noticed it, but the water was a milky white.

"That's to clean you up. I reckon they left a few more cuts and scrapes than they intended."

You found your voice. Smaller, meeker than you remembered.

"Why do you care?"

"You think we don't care?"

You blinked. Of course you thought that. What else was there to think? They were outlaws who took you to satisfy themselves for an afternoon or two. What more could there be?

He laughed, but it was a bitter thing.

"Oh, qīn’ài de. If we didn't care, you'd still be a free woman."

You didn't understand what he was getting at. He sighed and reached for your ankle.

You jerked away. You didn't want to be touched ever again. Not by a man, not by anyone.

He sighed again.

"Don't be difficult. I want to help you."

"Why?"

He was quiet. Just watching you with his dark eyes. There was something familiar about him, though you couldn't tell what.

Finally, "You don't remember me."

You were in no frame of mind to care about his feelings.

"No."

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his forehead resting on his knuckles. Like a man at prayer. He turned his head a little to speak to you.

"It's been a long time, but you saved my life once."

You frowned, totally blank.

"You were still just a girl. Thirteen or fourteen maybe. I'd just turned twenty, part of a gang for the first time and too damn cocky."

He rubbed the skin just above his thumb. There was an ugly scar there, the skin still raised and puckered after all these years.

"Our heist went wrong. Sherrif and his deputies were waiting for us. I got shot. Not so bad that it would kill me, but bad enough that I couldn't make it home."

You couldn't see where this was going.

"Ended up in a barn, bleeding everywhere. I heard footsteps and I thought for sure I was done for. That the rancher was going to blow my brains all over the wall. But it wasn't him that found me."

You sat up slowly and ended up on your knees, your back to him. You thought you understood now, but you let him keep speaking.

"Wasn't him, but his daughter. Dropped the milk when she saw me but she didn't scream. Just came over and asked how she could help me. Me. A wanted man who'd just killed six deputies."

You didn't know that part of the story. All you remembered was the hot summer sun slanting through the cracks in the barn, and the young man bleeding out in the hay. You remembered him digging the bullet out and asking you to stitch him up, his face going all pale.

You closed you eyes and it was like you were right back there, hiding him in the hayloft and telling your pa the blood on your dress was from killing a chicken.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"Because you looked scared. And because I was a little in love with you."

That probably wasn't the answer he was expecting. You pulled in a shuddering breath.

"You were older than me, but still so young. The most handsome man I'd ever met. You told me you got shot by mistake, and not to tell anyone because it would get your little brother in trouble."

You could hear a smile in his voice.

"And you believed me?"

"Yes. Why would you lie to me? Outlaws were just a thing from stories. And I suppose I wanted to believe you. You told me I was going to be really pretty someday, that you'd have to come back and marry me. No one had ever said anything like that to me."

He hummed. "You really thought I was handsome?"

"Yes."

He still was, but he had none of the sweet, boyish softness you remembered. He was handsome in a hard, dangerous way. Diamond rough. You could cut your skin on the sharpness of him.

"But what does that have to do with anything? Why...why do this to me, if you owe me your life?"

He sighed and reached for you. He hooked his arm around your waist and dragged you onto his lap.

"I kept checking in on you over the years, do you know that? Every time I was near your ranch I'd ride out and look for you. Always watching."

"Why?"

"I felt like I owed you. I wanted to make sure you were fine. And when you got older...well, I just liked looking at you."

You shivered. There was something in his voice, a longing far deeper than anyone of the other cowboys'.

"Will you let me go when you're done?"

He sighed and tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Maybe that would be the merciful option. But we aren't merciful men."

He pulled your head onto his shoulder when you started crying.

"You're going to stay with us, qīn’ài de. For a very, very long time."

"Why now? Why..."

His hand was soft in your hair, his voice even softer.

"You're young, lovely, a rancher's only child. How much longer 'til your pa started to consider marriage? And who would come knocking on his door? No, I couldn't loose you to them."

"You're the one..." you tried pulling away but he kept you still, head against his shoulder.

"Me," he agreed, "I'm the one to blame for this. And even knowing that, I wouldn't take it back."

"The others..."

"Brutes, aren't they? But they're my brothers. And once they saw you, they wanted you too."

He said he couldn't loose you to another man, but that didn't make any sense.

"If that's true, why did you let the others..." You swallowed, not sure how to go on.

"Why did I let the others have you first?"

You nodded. He played with the cross on his necklace. Finally, he spoke.

"Because I want the most time with you."

He pulled away to look at you and you realised how wrong you were. It wasn't that he didn't feel any lust for you, it was just that he hid it far better than the rest of them.

But now... oh, his was the worst you'd seen. Boiling hot, on the end of its tether. This was a man who wanted you. Who'd spent years wanting you.

He laid a palm on your thigh.

"They got you for an hour each maybe. But I'm going to have you all night."

[yanchive]

Man, I've been obsessed with the isekai trope lately. I've been imagining a scenario where the reader gets isekai'd into a yandere romance story as a side character. You're not the main character or a love interest. You replaced a nameless character who was solely created in the story to be killed off by the yandere love interests to further the plot.

After realizing that's the role you took on, you devise a plan to re write the story to keep yourself alive.

In the official plot, your death was the cause of getting too close to the main character. Your positive relationship with them was considered a threat to the yanderes, and so they wiped you out of the picture.

So, as any semi intelligent individual would do, you decided to avoid the main character completely.

I'd like to imagine the reader wasn't well informed of this story, didn't know who the yans were, and accidentally befriended them before they even got a chance to develop any feelings for the main character. You jumped into their lives before the events that led into the original storyline. Earning their trust and unfortunately causing some peculiar emotions in them to develop.

This fucks up the whole plot. I mean, that was your plan. You just weren't trying to fuck it up so bad that you unintentionally attracted multiple yans who decided you were the perfect match for them. You were a joy to be around. You were far more intertwined in their lives than the previous main character ever was. It was generic with them and their story. A boring, "yan see's their darling from afar for the first time and falls in love on sight." Type plot.

But with you, it was so much more personal. They grew to love you for way more than just your looks. They got to know you as a person before any sort of feelings of devotion could form.

This made their efforts to claim you so much worse than they ever were in the original plot. They were much more sinister and brutal. They usually only did massive amounts of stalking, blackmail, and the occasional murder when it came to the canon story, whereas they went all out for you.

Kidnap, murder, torture, blackmail, stalking, theft, harassment, etc. Everyone around you was a threat in their eyes. Everyone around you didn't deserve you.

By the time you realized what you've done, what you've created, its far too late to fix your mistake. You attempted to break off the friendships, avoiding them at all costs, closing yourself off and spending your time trying to find a way back to your original world.

But they don't take kindly to that. Not after everything you guys have been through. Before you could find the key back home to your world, you'd be whisked away, having your new world be the confines of your yans humble abode, away from society.

Bonus option: You attempt to bring the original main character back into the plot in hopes they could redirect the yandere back into chasing them and get them off your back. But why would they need this stranger? They don't know them like they know you. And they could care less to even try to get to know them. So, the original main character ends up taking on the role you were supposed to be. The side character who was meant to die to further the plot.

You're the main character now.

[lillyrob]

Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

[singmyaubade]

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

[forsworned]

Being the only female on TF141 is like Simon constantly scolding you for getting into sheningans with Johnny and Kyle while Price sits on his arm chair with a good book, whiskey in hand and him puffing out smoke like a chimney from his cigar like the daddy he is.

"Delete it."

"Why?"

"Cos I fockin' said so."

You cock an amused brow at him as you look up from the embarrassingly cute photo of the skull-masked behemoth fast sleep and cuddling your Hello Kitty plushie. "Cos y'fockin' said so?" You mock his gravelly Manchester accent and it sends Johnny and Kyle into a fit of giggles. And even Price is chuffed by it. It's contagious really.

It lets your guard down enough for him to yank your phone out of your hand deleting the picture with a swiftness that made your eyes ream and your heart jump. You all groan and jeer at him for being a poor sport but he's quite satisfied with himself. Little does he know, you have a few copies of it in your desktop.

[black-dhalias]

Hi!! I absolutely love your writing✨✨

I was wondering if you’d write a Ethari x Reader (pronouns are she/her) x Runaan where it takes place in the time of the assassination of King Harrow.

Ethari and reader witnesses the assassins flowers sink one by one leading down to Rayla and Runaan.

Days later, it depends on how many days Runaan was in the dungeon before he got trapped in a coin. They witness Runaan’s flower sink and are of course struck by grief.

If it’s not a bother could you write days later after Runaan’s "death" the time where Callum and Rayla goes to their house.

Reader is reading a book while Ethari is crafting weapons and he witnesses Rayla from the reflection and you know what happens next.

If you don’t want to write this it’s completely fine! Once again, I love your writing!!✨🤍🌙

Floating Flowers

Poly!Runaan X Reader X Poly!Ethari

Warnings: angst, kinda sad ngl, mentions of death and some descriptions of violence

One does not love without sacrifice, and one does not truly want to take the risk unless they know it's worth it. With all that at stake, it does not make sense to ever really let someone in. To love, is to let your heart beat in time with another—with many, and in so few words, all of it can disappear.

In a blink.

In an instant.

Within a single breath.

All love causes is pain. You thought you knew the worst of it, felt the bitter edge of loss, but you were so wrong. You had it all figured out only a year ago. You had Runaan... A voice of reason and rock. You had Raela... In all her stubbornness and sweet personality. You have Ethari... As your warmth, and your light. You loved all three extensively, dove head first into the chasm of love—hopeful and invested. They gave you purpose and warmth, and that's all you ever wanted.

You thought the price of love was worth all the pain, but now as you fold your arms over your knotted up stomach. You could barely tear your eyes away from Runaan and Rayla prepare for the mission. The one to avenge all of Xadia, but it was not worth it to you. Nothing in all of the realms was worth the price of watching them walk out of this village.

Soon it would be just you and Ethari—you begged for a minute longer as Runaan's palm embraces your cheek, "Goodbye my love." The words taste acidic, another minute of him would never be enough. You'd plead for hour after hour, for every second was worth a thousand pleas.

While Runaan notes your rigid form, the distant look in your eyes—he knows that he cannot stay. "It is not good bye..." He whispers quietly, "I will always return to you both." Your lips press into that all too familiar line, shaking your head as you part from him completely.

Hating the distance, but knowing you must let him go.

"Do not make us promises you cannot keep." Your words are dark, striking cold fear into Ethari—the sensation of pain mirrors into him.

Hesitantly, Ethari embraces Runaan and Rayla throws herself into your arms. You told Runaan she was not ready, that you were not ready to let her go into a battle she may not return from.

She's the closest you ever came to a child, you are certain that she'll be the only child you ever have. All her life was spent under your careful gaze, and embraced tightly in your arms. Your cheek rests atop her hair, and even when your eyes mist over—you do not let yourself cry.

"I love you Rayla... All the way to the moon." You insisted she was more like you, more like Ethari, but Runaan was certain. And when he was certain, there was no reason to try to talk sense into him.

When you finally gather enough strength to look up at Runaan, Rayla at his side and Ethari's palm on the small of your back. Runaan gives a tight smile, one he only gives when he is not sure.

"I love you..." You don't know if you'd forgive yourself if he didn't hear it at least once more, you see the softness of his eyes. "Both of you, and we expect you home before 30 nights have passed."

Soon enough, they disappear and leave only floating flowers in their wake. No one moved from the fountain, too many souls rest upon the surface—hardly a ripple as the air catches deep in your throat.

When the day came to pass, the crowd was thick with anxiety without a word of comfort to be shared. No one could say anything at all. Ethari held you close, unable to stop the tightening of his grip as each flower sunk to rest on the bottom. The ripples were jarring, the water stirred with grief.

The cries were haunting, even when no one knew who would come next... The tears remained locked up. And with each sunken flower, you felt a wave of guilt and relief because you wished it to be anyone else. Until it was only them.

All you had was the hope that they had succeeded, and were already halfway home right now. It is all that you have left.

"Come to bed starlight." Ethari's sweet nickname sounded so soft, you could hardly enjoy the comfort, but it was there nonetheless. "I miss your warmth..." You tear your eyes rom the water, and stare into his. You wonder if he knows how much you adore him, how safe and welcoming his arms had become since they found you. "I miss sharing a bed..." You hardly slept since they left, leaving Ethari to an empty home most days. Ethari and Runaan had saved you all those years ago, brought you back from the edge of the universe—a startouch elf who could hardly bring themselves to love. To care.

"Just tonight..." You take his outstretched hand, his hope brought you optimism. Gave you hope. That meant something to you.

"I miss you too."

In the quiet and dark, you lay entangled in your husband—embraced tightly in the linens and his arms. The shadows crest through the window, a moonlit night, but you struggle to see through the light. Almost certain that there is—not evil, but nothing good coming your way.

Ethari's arms tighten around and bring you closer than before, chin nuzzled into your neck. His hair is soft against your arm, there is so much on your mind and sleep seems distant.

The way his eyes are shut so lightly, lashes brushing his cheeks and while not a smile—his face is not contorted with nightmares. To be honest, this is the first time since Runaan left that you've seen Ethari sleep so peacefully. While you could not bring yourself to sleep, you were never too far away as to not soothe away the nightmares when they came to him. He truly is the last testament of your sanity. As light as you can manage, you brush your thumb along the highest point of his cheek.

"If you wanted me awake, you should have just asked." Sleep clouds his visit, but he sees you so clearly against the sharp contrast of night. A vision of pure, unscathed—starlight.

He tilts his head up so that he is looking at you, a look of pure admiration. "Have I told you how beautiful you are, starlight?" You find it in yourself to smile.

"More often with every passing day." He returns your smile, Ethari always was the one who stood in awe of you even when you doubted yourself. Your good nature seemed to move in step with his own, but something about the stars that danced in your eyes—you often seemed otherworldly to him.

"Good, I will never allow you to forget." And you know that he's telling the truth, you believe every word. "They'll come home to us. I know they will." Yet you are not as sure, humans are too unforgivable. Too dangerous and unpredictable. You hate them, and fear what else they are capable of taking away from you.

Neither of you say another word, finding comfort in each other. Letting the comfort exist in this singular moment, tomorrow you will face more fear and anxiety. Tonight, you find peace in Ethari's arms.

"Hope for the both of us, my love. I can only hope it's enough."

Only when you watched Runaan's flower sink so suddenly, when the ripples began to shatter the surface of the water. Your entire world seemed to shatter with your reflection. It felt like the world was on fire, and completely still; all at once, you had little left. Stones burn your knees in scrapes as you cry out for him, even the slam of the door is not enough to rouse you from your torture.

The way Ethari saw you and then saw the flower in the bottom of the pool. The heave as he sees the sunken hope. It was always a fool's mission, but the sensation of your crying form within his own arms is enough to send him into tears. The way your hands grip him without remorse—screaming at the universe that they can't have them.

Runaan is gone.

It hits Ethari like the whole of Xadia was put directly on his shoulders, their husband is dead.

He's gone, and he isn't coming back.

Ethari attempted to focus on the task at hand, the tools and weapons atop his desk never seemed so far from him. It felt as though he was staring at a puzzle he was no longer capable of understanding, but he did his best to keep himself occupied when the silence of the house threatened to consume.

Is this grief? Or is this the new normal?

Where you used to find comfort in Ethari, he could only ever reach you when the books were far from your grasp. A cycle of three titles, meticulously memorizing each page because it reminded you of Runaan. The nights when you would stay up with Runaan when the nightmares were too much, and you would read to him until he lulled off to sleep.

Neither really said a word, silent and long days until the time came to crawl into bed. Only then, arms around each other and duvets tightly enveloping both forms—did the tears freely flow. Did the pain finally mount and the length of the universe seemed to weigh heavy on you both.

However, by the time morning breaks, the silence returns and the image of a sunken flower haunts your vision. Ethari closes his eyes, adjusting himself and returns his gaze to his work. Only something catches his eye, a glimpse—nothing short of a miracle, one that causes his expression to falter.

Rayla...

Unable to turn for a moment, he pauses before walking out the door. Knowing that she would follow, unable to break your heart anymore than it has been already.

"Rayla. Before you left, I told Runaan that you were to goodhearted for the work of an assassin. Y/N told him too." He pauses, glancing into the reflection once more. "So I know you did not betray them out of malice. But that doesn't matter. They're gone. He's gone. Because you abandoned them." His words are harsh, not loud, but there is a sharpness as he recalls your cries from the night before.

Even when she disappeared from the reflection, Ethari was already back inside of the home. You had not moved from your position, and for a moment, Ethari wishes you could have seen her. Known she was alright, even if she cannot come home.

He exhales deeply, gathering what he needs before leaving once more to find her. "This will only break the spell for a moment, but I couldn't bear to let you leave without seeing you one last time." Ethari had to know, to hear her out, and find some comfort in her words. "But I don't understand, Rayla. How could you abandon them?"

She looked the same, different and more worn in others, but he saw her as she was. "I failed them. it was my fault we were discovered, btu I didn't run away." She pauses. "Ethari, we found something. Callum, show him."

"Oh uh..." Ethari turns his attention to the human, smiling a little. "I'm Rayla's earthblood elf friend. Trees to meet you."

"Trees to meet you, too."

"Don't humor him. We found the dragon prince."

"The egg wasn't destroyed."

"And I knew that if we could get him home to his mother, there could be peace."

"It's a miracle. I can't believe it." Ethari's eyes darken, recalling the letter he received from Ibis not too long ago. "But, Rayla, you need to know. The Dragon Queen is dying. Since the death of her mate, she's fallen very ill."

"We have to get to her. It's the only way." Ethari pauses, as he watches Rayla's eyes trail to the home. "Where is Y/N? Can I see them?" Looking through the window to spot you, to catch your gaze.

Rayla is struck by confusion at your still form—you were never that still. Never so quiet. Her eyes wander the way you seem awake, locked in on the book and every so often she’d catch Ethari glance over with concern.

Ethari watches Rayla, as she looks at you—“When we met Y/N, they were deeply wounded by abandonment. Alone and on the cusp of giving up.” His eyes are sad, she notes how he casts you loving glances in between the concern. “Runaan is dead. You exiled. Something in them finally snapped.”

“Will they ever be the same?”

“No Rayla. I don’t think that they will, they might recover, but Y/N has faced great losses…More than most, it’s why they loved you so dear. Because you’ve lost a lot too.”

Ethari whistles: "You can ride faster than you can walk. I'll see a message to the Dragon Queen. If she knows her little one still lives, perhaps she'll hold on."

"Ethari, can I ever come home again?"

"I don't know." His eyes are sad, he knows the devastation you felt when the rumors spread. When the word shifted to call Rayla a betrayer and to ghost her. You fought against it, but soon even you could not fight the thought. Consider the possibility that there might have been some truth to the village's words. "It's a real moon opal..." He holds it out to her. "When I gave its match to Runaan, I told him, "My love will be with you even when the moon is not."

Rayla looks through the window once more and then back at Ethari: "Good bye, Rayla."

Ethari came into the home with a purpose as he gathered another arrow, preparing it to be fired and for the first time since, you looked up at him. Eyes wandering to the message, to the way he seemed certain.

Something in the way he moved, it reminded you of who he once was. "What are you doing?" He meets your eyes, seeing the whole universe fall together in a dance as you rise to your feet.

"I have found us hope." Still, even now, he is holding onto the hope that he can somehow fix this. Change the way things are and you trust him.

"Runaan, the last time I made you one of these, it carried a message of death. but this arrow will carry a message of life. Regina Draconis!" While you do not understand completely, you understand enough to know that Ethari is still fighting for you. Still fighting for your future, the one you will share together. And you trust him.

Long before you loved Ethari and Runaan, before the turn of the century—eons before written history began. There was you and your brother, Aarravos. It was all you knew, and it was all you thought you needed. Masters of the primal energies—the epitome of Star Touch Elf perfection. There was no beauty like yours, and no power that tasted as sweet as the power you possessed.

However, it was never enough for Aarravos and soon enough, you had lost him completely. Your entire existence seemed to erase itself with his loss, the universe seemed so much smaller. It seemed so much more void. No longer did stars shine for you, and soon enough, you saw only the darkness. A never ending abyss of despair, and confusion. You no longer knew what your purpose was beyond the world you were building with your brother. It meant nothing without someone to share the success with.

You lean into the darkness, you found comfort in the silence—perhaps comfort is the wrong word. You found silence in the darkness, your bottomless pit of despair was less violent and loud. Your wandering felt less aimless when you accepted the loneliness. You were not at peace, but the numbness felt bitterly better than the pain of loss.

The greatest of your sins was never looking for him, for you assumed he had simply left you to your misery. Had finally had enough, and so you left him to his adventures—you imagined he must have left you willingly, no one could against the power you wielded.

Seven centuries, long and painful blistering years, in that time you only heard whispers of your brothers antics. Until you heard nothing at all.

Soon enough the sadness no longer touched you, or perhaps you wore it proudly—you rarely missed the brother that had left you alone. If he cared, he would have taken you with him.

A crest of moonlight breaks over the treetops and reflects off the waterfalls, the crisp blue hue brings a soft smile to your lip. Knelt before the basin, you submerge your palms into the clear water and bring it to your lips. The water is not bitter or heavy with minerals, you finish what is in your palm and remove the canteen from your hip. Using one hand, you pinch the lid and the other you submerge the object and wait for the bubbles to stop.

Crack!, you stiffen—eyes flickering to the left side, someone or something is near. The forest has gone quiet, and it leaves you to think that it is a someone. You hum, shifting your leg out from under you and leaning onto it—knife on your hip, another on your chest and ankle. You cap the canteen and tie it off to your belt, swallowing as you place the final knot. Only to hear the rustling once more.

Trying your best not to move, to hush your body and heighten your senses—your fingers curl tightly around the blade, clutching onto it just as the pair of elves break the clearing. You turn quickly, drawing your weapon and posing it high—“If you’re here to start something, it’s probably best you leave.” Before, with Aarravos, you were the voice of reason—diplomatic and poise, but now it is different. It is just you. Their eyes widen significantly, as startled by you as you are by them.

One is smaller physically, but his hair is much longer—he seems more muscular, less lean. While the other seems to be just as imposing, but not physically—there is knowledge behind those eyes. He is the first one to speak, “You’re a Startouch elf.” You nod, posing your weapon higher. “Fascinating.”

However, when your weapon does not drop it is the other who steps protectively in front of the scholar—his expression less than kind. “Startouch or not, please drop your knife. We never meant you any harm.

.

.

.

“We never looked back. It was just the three of us against all of Xadia.”

[ddejavvu]

GIRL I GOT DE BEST IDEA AAAAAAAAAAAAA how would The poly!maurders react to y/n sleeping naked? I sleep naked and that thought just came to me mind

"Darling?" Sirius croons, pressing gently against your shoulder to rouse you from your sleep, "Darling, we're back."

There's no response from you, and Sirius pushes ever-so-slightly harder.

"Christ, Sirius, let's not shove her off the bed!" James gripes, muscling Sirius out of the way to lean down and press his lips to your forehead, "Love, wake up? We brought you dessert."

There's still no response from your unconscious form, and James suspects it's because you're nestled in a cocoon of warmth that's keeping you deeply asleep. He feels his heart crack slightly as he reaches for the edge of the blanket, feeling cruel, but it has to be done.

"Right, let's take this off then, and we can- oh, bloody hell!"

What's revealed beneath the blankets is your naked form, curled up tightly against the cold but now completely exposed to the room. Sirius's brows shoot up, and James drops the covers in order to clamp his hands over his eyes.

"James," Remus hums as you stir from your sleep. He quickly flips the covers over you again, giving you privacy as you wake, "You've seen her naked before."

"But not like this!" James blabbers, letting Sirius bundle him in a reassuring hug, "Darling, if you can hear me, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be naked under there. Didn't mean to flash you to the whole lot of us."

Remus watches as you drag a knuckle through the sleep gathered in the corners of your eyes, rubbing away the drowsiness as a groggy smile grows on your face.

"S'okay, Jamie," You laugh, your voice raspy from disuse, "I slept naked 'cause I knew you'd find me."

[lemonmaid]

Sorry, I've been hyperficated for a minute.

Poly 141 x Baker! Reader

Small town AU

Butcher Simon who owns a meat store in the same building as your bakery store. (Literally a door over).

Butcher Simon who slowly starts to fall smitten over you whenever you come by and ask help pulling freight or those 50 pound flour bags.

Butcher Simon who comes to you with the idea of collaborating making lunch and dinner sandwiches, using your bread and his meats.

Cashier Johnny who constantly flirts with you whoever you pop in the morning.

Cashier Johnny who argues when Simon says he only hired him for his looks.

Cashier Johnny who gives you his employee discount, just don't tell Simon about there being an employee discount.

Cashier Johnny who plays the radio extra loud for Simon to hear the football game while he is in the cooler.

Farmer John who sells his meats to Simon.

Farmer John who also sells his eggs, dairy and other produce to you.

Farmer John who started growing squash, peppers and berries for your bakery and gets to try new items with his ingredients.

Farmer John who has a really bad sweet tooth and shyly buys the last lemon bar every morning.

Sheriff Kyle who comes every morning for your danishes

Sheriff Kyle who comes in every day before closing to buy a dinner sandwich

Sheriff Kyle who gives you his own personal phone number "just in case".

Sheriff Kyle who can be heard arguing with Johnny about meat prices every couple of months.

Sheriff Kyle who can be seen always on John's farm.

Small Town 141! Would be so protective over you.

Small Town 141! Always inviting you to the pub after work, even when they know you'll say no.

Small Town 141! Who always invites you to go hunting or hiking with them.

Small Town 141! Where they are always taking it upon themselves to fix something around your store. Glass needs repainting? Johnny is on it. Lights are out on the sign? Simon has replacements. Door doesn't lock? Kyle knows a guy who owes him a favor. Car broke? John can fix it.

Small Town 141! Who desperately want your affection.

[moonstruckme]

hi my love i’m obsessed with all your works and this is my first request!

poly! marauders and cuteness aggression. like maybe reader coming home a bit tipsy from girls night and just seeing her boys and losing it. grabbing remus’ face and just kissing all over his cheeks, gnawing on james’ biceps and playing with sirius’ hair or tracing his tattoos.

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: alcohol

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 589 words

You leave a trail of things down the hallway that you swear you’ll pick up in the morning. Your bag, both shoes, your jacket. There’s no time to put any of it in its proper place, not when you know your boyfriends are all cozy and waiting for you in your bed. Everything else is secondary. 

The moment you get your eyes on them, it’s already too much. Remus is reading while Sirius chats to a nearly-asleep James, and you don’t know whether to scream or hug them or burst into tears. One feels more socially acceptable than the rest. 

A grin spreads over Sirius’ face as you crawl clumsily up the bed, so you go to him first. 

“Hi, baby.” You smear a kiss over his lips, burrowing your hands in his lovely, silken hair. It smells like his conditioner, smokey and heady and just slightly sweet. You wish you could snort it up into your nose like a drug. 

“Hi, baby,” Sirius says back at you, amused. “Did you have a good night?” 

“No,” you lament, though you think you might have enjoyed it at the time. 

Impulsively, you move to Remus, clambering across James to get on your quietest boyfriend’s lap. He’s already set down his book, so there are no barriers to your whims as you take his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks up and kissing them all over. You think you can hear the other boys laughing somewhere beyond your lovesick haze. Remus’ skin grows warmer with each ardent press of your lips. 

“None of you were there,” you go on. It’s impossible to articulate the full extent of this injustice. “You were here, being so lovely and perfect and lovely without me.” 

“That’s lovely twice.” Remus seems to recover somewhat from your surprise attack. His hand comes to rest in the middle of your back, a touch just for touch’s sake. “How much have you had, dove?” 

You make a petulant, whiny sound, burying your face in his neck. There will never be enough of them, your lovely boyfriends. Or maybe it’s that they’re enough, but you just can’t get enough. Regardless. You’re doomed to remain just on the brink of satisfaction. 

“Enough to know that I missed you a lot,” you say pitifully. 

“Awe, babydoll.” James’ laughter is at odds with his compassionate tone. “Come here, m’love.” 

This sounds like a grand idea to you. You wish they’d simply all squish together so you could lay your affections on them one by one, in rounds. 

James puckers his lips as you approach, readying for a kiss, and so is taken entirely aback when you forgo his face entirely. 

“Oh, well,” he says as you suck a hickey on his bicep. “I feel properly objectified.” 

You’re too pleased with yourself to be sorry. He flexes playfully, eliciting a string of giggles from you as you latch on tighter. 

“Do you think she’s been drugged?” you hear Remus ask. 

“Dunno.” James’ tone is fond. His big hand lands on the back of your head. 

“No, I sort of get it,” says Sirius. The mattress dips slightly, and then you feel him plant a wet kiss on your shoulder. “You just need to get it out of your system, yeah, sweetness?” 

You hum in affirmation. You wrap your arms around James’ middle, squeezing tight. 

“I love you so much,” you mumble into his skin. “I’m gonna kill you.” 

Your boyfriend’s frame rumbles with laughter. “Okay, lovie,” he says indulgently. “You go right ahead.”

[beloveds-embrace]

(Poly 141 x neighbour!reader: the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! (Or in your case, the way to four men’s heart is through their stomach))

It started with cookies.

You’d been in the middle of baking a double batch- oatmeal chocolate chip, your personal favorite- and realized halfway through scooping them onto the tray that you’d made far too many for one person. It wasn’t unusual. Baking was how you coped with stress, and ever since you’d moved into this apartment building, stress had been in no short supply.

The guy in 4A had blared music all night. Your hot water barely lasted five minutes. And your smoke detector had developed a habit of chirping at odd hours.

But there was one bright spot- your neighbors in 4C.

You’d seen them coming and going. Tall, broad, and always carrying duffel bags that looked far too heavy to be legal. They kept odd hours, too, but never caused trouble. One of them- Johnny, you’d learned later- had even held the door open for you when your arms were full of groceries.

Which was why you’d stood outside their door that evening, balancing a plate of cookies and feeling like an idiot as you knocked.

Not-Johnny had answered first, blinking down at you in surprise, though his smile was warm and he was beautiful. You couldn’t blame him; you had barely spoken to them more than a few short words.

“Uh… hi?”

“Hi.” You forced a smile. “I’m your neighbor from 4B. I, uh… made too many cookies?”

His eyes dropped to the plate immediately, and you swore you saw something primal flicker behind them. Still, you worried.

“I mean, if you don’t want-”

“No! No, we want. Come in- Johnny! Get over here!”

And that was how it started.

The second time had been lasagna.

You’d just finished assembling it when you realized- again- that you’d made too much. So, after psyching yourself up for ten minutes, you’d knocked on their door for the second time in as many weeks.

Price, who had introduced himself along wuth Simon the day you dropped off the cookies, had answered that time, his expression guarded until he saw the foil-covered pan in your hands.

“You’re joking,” he’d said, but when you started to retreat, he’d stopped you with a firm, but gentle hand on your back. He had such a nice, big hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, lovie. Get in here.”

That night, you’d sat at their table, sharing stories and laughter while they cleaned the dish down to the last crumb.

After that, it became routine.

You started “testing recipes,” and they became your eager guinea pigs.

And they never seemed to mind.

And now…

The smell hit first- roasted garlic, browned butter, and something rich simmering low and slow. It snuck out from the slightly cracked kitchen window and spilled into the shared hallway of the apartment building. For men used to MREs and takeout, it was practically siren song.

Gaz was the first to notice, lingering just outside the door labeled 4B- your door- with an almost predatory focus. He wasn’t proud of it, but his stomach growled so loud that Soap- rounding the corner with a gym bag slung over his shoulder- laughed outright.

“You stalking the neighbor again?”

“Shut up. You smell that?”

Soap inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered shut for a beat before snapping open.

“Jesus wept- what is that?!”

“I don’t know, but I’m this close to knocking.” Kyle held up his fingers, barely an inch apart.

“She already fed us last week, mate. Dinna push it.”

“But what if she’s testing another recipe?”

Gaz wasn’t wrong. You had a habit of showing up at their door with dishes too good to refuse.

They hadn’t stood a chance.

After the cookies and the lasagna, it wasn’t long before other dishes followed: casseroles, soups, pies, and even homemade bread. And the worst part? You bow always prefaced it by saying you needed an opinion- like they were doing you the favor.

It wasn’t until Price called you a “bloody saint” over a pan of enchiladas that Ghost finally put it together.

“You’re using us as taste testers,” he’d said flatly.

You’d grinned- too cute and too smug for your own good. “Is that a problem?”

Not a single one of them had said no, just as stated before.

Which led them here, hovering outside your door and pretending they weren’t waiting for another offering.

“… Fine.” Soap muttered, raising his hand to knock.

But the door swung open before he could, and there you were- apron on, hair pulled back, and flour dusted across your cheek.

“Hi!” You chirped, eyes bright. “Perfect timing!”

Gaz’s grin was pure relief. “Tell me you need opinions. Please, love.”

You laughed, stepping aside to let them in. “I always need opinions. Come in!”

Inside, the kitchen was chaos. Cutting boards and mixing bowls were scattered across the counters. A Dutch oven bubbled on the stove, releasing clouds of savory steam. Plates of food- half-assembled sandwiches, stuffed peppers, and what looked like chocolate tarts- sat waiting.

“I… might’ve gone overboard.” You admitted, and if you hadn’t spent all day in the kitchen, your cheeks would’ve gone warmer.

Soap whistled low, eyes raking over every dish. “Not complainin’.”

Price arrived just then, texted by Kyle, trailed closely by Simon, who took one look at the spread and froze. His eyes swept from the roasted chicken resting under a blanket of fresh herbs to the still-warm biscuits stacked beside a bowl of honey butter.

“What’s the occasion?” John asked, smile amused, but you just waved him off.

“Practicing.”

Gaz was already halfway to the table, trying to decide what to start with, but Simon lingered, watching you carefully. He had his balaclava on, though you haven’t yet dared to ask why he wears it.

“Practicing for what, exactly?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your apron. “There’s this… thing next week. A community bake-off. And I thought it might be fun to enter.”

Soap arched a brow. “You’re entering this in a bake-off?”

“Well, not all of it. I’m still deciding which dishes to use.”

“You’re winning.” Kyle said immediately, filling his plate.

“Definitely.” Johnny added, already reaching for a sandwich.

Simon, still lingering, crossed his arms and stared down at you. His height will never, ever not make your breath hitch. “You’re testing all of this on us?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, pouting just a little. “You don’t mind, do you, Simon?”

His gaze darkened- not in anger, but something softer, heavier. It made your stomach flip.

“No,” he said simply. “We don’t mind.”

You swallowed and turned quickly to the oven to hide the heat rushing to your cheeks.

The next hour passed in a blur of taste testing, arguments over which dish was best, and repeated assurances that you were going to “blow the competition out of the water.” But beneath the laughter and teasing, you failed to catch the way they looked at you- how Price lingered by the stove just to steal extra bites, or how Johnny kept offering to help, hovering close enough that you brushed elbows more than once.

And Simon? He was the worst of all. He didn’t say much, but his eyes tracked your every move, following the way your hands worked the dough or wiped flour off the counter. He was the last to leave, hanging back as the others helped clear plates.

“You’re serious about this bake-off?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “Thought it might be fun.”

“You don’t need it.”

“… What?”

He gestured at the now-empty plates. “To prove anything, I mean. You’re already…” He trailed off for a few seconds, and though you were left blinking at him, you didn’t rush him. “Good enough.” he murmured at last.

The compliment hit harder than you expected, and for once, you didn’t have a clever response.

“Thank you, Simon. That… means a lot to me.” you said softly.

And just like that, the others reappeared, breaking the moment. Johnny patted Simon’s shoulder with a knowing smirk, and Kyle slung an arm around your shoulders, while Price merely watched. Your kitchen was now spotless, cleaned by them.

“When’s the next test run?” Gaz asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, let us know. We’re free anytime.”

“Yeah,” Soap added. “Anytime.”

You laughed but this time, you didn’t miss the way Price was looking at you- thoughtful, like he’d already made up his mind about something.

The door clicked shut behind them after that, leaving your apartment quieter but no less warm. The scent of roasted garlic and herbs still lingered, and you found yourself smiling as you surveyed the spotless kitchen. They’d made quick work of the mess, trading jokes and lighthearted jabs as they wiped down counters and stacked dishes in quite the uniform style.

You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve neighbors like them, but you weren’t about to question it.

You caught yourself humming as you tucked away the last plate, the sound of their laughter still echoing faintly in your ears. It was easy with them- comfortable in a way that felt rare and almost too good to be true.

And maybe it was.

Because what you didn’t know- what you would probably never know, such a sweet and trusting thing- was that your apartment had been wired within days of your first visit to their door.

To them, it had started with a conversation.

“She’s alone,” Price had said after the second time you’d brought them food, leaning back in his chair with a contemplative frown. “No sign of anyone else coming or going.”

“Security’s shite.” Gaz had added, gesturing vaguely toward the shared hallway where your lock barely functioned half the time.

Soap had shrugged, easygoing as ever, but his eyes had been sharp. “Better us keep an eye on her than let some arsehole get the chance.”

And that was that.

Price had ordered the equipment, Ghost had handled the installation, and none of them had lost sleep over it. Not when it meant keeping you safe.

It wasn’t just the cameras, either.

Simon had reinforced your locks under the guise of “fixing” them after you mentioned a struggle with your key. Johnny had talked you into letting him check your windows “just to be sure they latched properly.” Gaz had set up an app on your phone to “monitor deliveries,” though it also let them track your location if needed.

And Price? He always lingered at the door just long enough to ask if you needed anything else- subtle, but enough to make sure you knew they were there.

You never questioned it. Never noticed the way they moved like a unit around you, anticipating problems before they could arise. Never caught the glances they exchanged when you mentioned a repairman or the way Simon hovered near the window any time a car idled too long outside.

You just kept feeding them, trusting them in ways that only made their resolve deepen.

Price was the worst.

He’d leaned against the counter tonight, watching you laugh at Johnny’s jokes and swat at Kyle when he tried to sneak extra bites, and the thought had hit him harder than he expected, while Simon watched on in amusement and was the only to successfully swipe a few more bites.

They could’ve had this already.

If life had gone differently- if timing had been better- you could’ve been his. Theirs. Someone to come home to instead of just someone they visited between deployments.

He hadn’t said anything, of course. None of them had.

But as they left, he’d lingered in the doorway, letting his hand rest lightly against the frame.

“Don’t let ‘em eat it all before the bake-off,” he’d teased, lips curling into a smile. “They’ll start begging if you do.”

You’d laughed, and God, it was dangerous how much he liked the sound.

“I’ll make sure to keep them in line.”

His smile softened. “Good girl.”

You didn’t notice the way Simon shot him a sharp look at that- or the way Johnny and Kyle exchanged knowing grins.

And later, when Price sat down in front of the monitors to check the feeds, he didn’t let himself feel guilty.

Because you were safe.

And as far as they were concerned, that was all that mattered.

[brokenmenswhore]

first | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders (james, remus, & sirius) x fem!reader

summary: virginity loss trope :)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), language, gender swapped dorcas cus i said so 🤷🏻‍♀️

────── ☾ ──────

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, body halting as the staircase began to shift beneath you, “and completely untrue.”

“Oh come on, you never do anything interesting! For your sake, it has to be true,” Sirius teased.

You turned to him, mouth open in offense. “I’m plenty interesting.”

“But not interesting enough to lose your virginity to Meadowes in the library during fourth year?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“No! It didn’t happen!” you protested, “now please, let it go.”

“How would a rumor like that even get out if it isn’t true?” James asked genuinely.

“Probably because everyone knows Meadowes has the hots for her. Bet you he started it himself,” Remus answered, distaste evident in his voice.

“Are you three done now?” you asked, whispering the common room password and letting the boys in.

“So if it isn’t true, how did you lose it?” Sirius pressed.

You looked at him stunned, eyes wide in disbelief that he would ask you something like that out of the blue.

“Absolutely not,” you said, raising a finger toward him, “I’m not playing that game.”

“Oh come on!” Sirius raised his hands and smiled, “you’re no fun.”

“Yeah, now I’m curious,” James continued on, “if not Dorcas, who?”

You sighed, placing your books down and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, turning toward them exasperated. “Why does it matter?”

“You know seventeen of the girls I’ve slept with by heart,” Sirius replied, “I’d say it’s only fair.”

“Sirius, you told me about seventeen of the girls you’ve slept with. Willingly. Without me asking. Ever,” you said, earning a laugh from James at your disgust.

They followed you up the stairs to your dorm, empty from everyone sneaking off to a party in the Ravenclaw common room that you were supposed to be getting ready for, but alas, you were late and distracted.

You sat down in front of your vanity mirror, ready to start applying makeup, when Remus placed a hand on the desk in front of you, leaning his face in close to you, his hair falling slightly in front of his face. He was completely in your personal space.

“Come on, Y/N, tell us who got to fuck you first.”

Remus’ voice was low, and his breath fanned your face as he spoke. You locked eyes with him, a sigh leaving your chest that you weren’t aware you were holding in. You were nervous to have him this close.

“No one has. Sorry to disappoint. Now drop it, will you?”

Remus didn’t move. You continued to look up into his eyes, your voice a little shaky, and you didn’t know what to do. You moved to get up, but Remus caught your chin between his fingers, pulling your attention back to him. “Meaning what?”

“Did you not hear me? Cus you’re like 6 inches away from me, so if you didn’t, you need to get your hearing checked,” you said, annoyed at your current predicament, just wanting to make the embarrassing conversation end. Remus finally let you stand, but Sirius and James were right behind you, stopping you from leaving the room. You opted to sit on your bed.

“You guys are insufferable.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “So you’re-“ he trailed off.

“A virgin, yes, wow, how crazy of me. You know, it’s not that weird, you all just have a personal body count higher than everyone at this school combined. And everyone else’s body count includes you. Can we please just forget about this?” you begged.

“Such attitude,” James teased, “from such a good girl.”

“Oh, so I’m a goodie two-shoes now that you’ve all discovered I’ve never had sex?”

“Kinda, yeah,” James giggled.

“Fuck you guys,” you sighed, partially lighthearted and partially annoyed, “it was my choice. You think I couldn’t have screwed Dorcas Meadowes in the library if I wanted to?”

No one had a response. Sirius’ nostrils flared, and Remus sighed. They almost seemed… jealous? at the thought of you and someone else.

You four were ridiculously close, anyone could see that, and you would be lying if you said you haven’t thought about them in that way, but you were best friends, and you didn’t want to risk ruining that.

“You ever think about, like, just doing it?” Sirius asked.

“What?” you replied.

“Do you ever think about just saying fuck it and asking someone, like, I don’t know, one of us, to just take your virginity?”

Your breathing caught in your chest. You stared at Sirius, a million thoughts coming to your head but you couldn’t articulate any of them. You had no idea what to say.

“I mean, I’ve thought about losing my virginity, yeah, that’s normal,” you explained.

“To one of us?” Remus asked.

You could lie. You could act disgusted at the question and walk away now, or, you could tell the truth, and risk ruining your entire friendship. You could also tell the truth and potentially gain everything you wanted.

Your voice became small, your eyes watching your hands fidget in your lap, “maybe.”

The boys all exchanged a look between one another.

James was the only one who was able to pull himself together. “W-who?”

You titled your head up at him. “What?”

James sat down on the bed next to you. “Which one of us?”

You could physically see all the boys tense up, ready to be filled with either pride or jealousy. Sirius and Remus were staring daggers at you, anxiously awaiting your answer. James kept his eyes on you as well, trying to make you feel less intimidated and tense than Sirius and Remus were.

Your eyes darted between all of them, “I-“

You were evidently nervous, and Remus felt bad. He knelt on the ground in front of you, taking your hands in his own. It was the most intimate gesture you’d received from him yet. He kept his voice soft. “Angel, you don’t have to tell us, but we really want to know. I promise none of us will be too hurt. Please,” he almost begged.

You sighed. You weren’t worried because you only thought about one of them, you were worried because you were embarrassed to tell them the truth. You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “All of you.”

They were not prepared for that answer.

Remus and James stared at you and tried to process your words. Sirius was more of an “act on impulse” and “speak without thinking” kind of guy.

“Fuck off,” he said, “all of us?”

“Mhm.”

“Like at the same time?” he pushed.

“Sirius-“ Remus warned.

“No, no, I wanna hear you say it,” he said, attention back on you, “I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about losing your virginity to all three of us. At the same time. I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about us fucking you.” He was standing dangerously close to you now.

“I- I have,” you said, blush evident in your cheeks.

Sirius growled. “Remus, move.”

“Excuse me?” Remus snapped back.

“Move.”

Remus sighed and moved out of the way so that Sirius was standing directly in front of you. “You stop us if there’s anything you don’t like. Understood?”

You nodded your head, but that wasn’t enough.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you retried.

Sirius gave you a small smile before grabbing your face in his hands, tilting your head up and leaning down to give you a long, intimate kiss. Once you had settled in, he deepened the kiss, his carnal desires taking over. He slowly leaned you back on the bed, your legs still hanging off the mattress, as he placed one knee next to your waist, holding himself up as he continued kissing you. When your back hit the mattress, you held the back of Sirius’s head to keep him in place.

You felt one of the boys behind Sirius, pulling your pants off and leaving your lower half nearly exposed.

Sirius flopped down on the bed next to you, still kissing you as you ran your fingers through his hair.

James slowly kissed up your thigh, throwing both of your legs over his shoulders as he kissed your underwear right above your heat. You gasped, but Sirius didn’t let you break the kiss.

“Sirius, come on, give her a break,” James pleaded, “I wanna hear her.”

Sirius groaned into the kiss before breaking it, looking down to James in between your legs. “Well, go on then.”

Sirius was still feral and needy, pulling your shirt over your head and ripping off your bra, immediately going to grab and kiss at your breasts. You were embarrassed at the exposure, but everyone was moving on your body so fast that you didn’t have time to think about your body being on display.

James pushed your underwear to the side and kissed your folds, causing you to squeal. This was an unfamiliar feeling, but you were growing wetter and wetter by the minute. He pushed your folds open with his tongue, licking and flicking at your clit. You whined and threw your head back. He continued his actions, peeking up at you from between your legs, watching you come apart as he ate you out like a man starved.

“Take it easy,” you heard Remus say from behind your head, “you gotta remember she’s never done this.”

James moaned into your cunt as a response, sending a shiver up your body, causing your legs to shake slightly. He kept sucking and licking circles around your bud, and you couldn’t help but grab the hair at the back of his head, pushing him closer into you.

“Good girl,” Sirius cooed from beside you, touching every exposed part of your body that he could.

As James’ tongue quickened, your whines grew louder, but you tried to tame them and save yourself further embarrassment. Remus noticed and was not happy. He grabbed your face and forced your neck to look backward at him. “Are you holding back?”

“N-no,” you said anxiously, not sure if it was the truth.

“Ah, but I think you are,” he started, “and we don’t accept that. Let us hear you.”

“But I’m emb-“

“I don’t care if you’re embarrassed. Stop holding back. Now.”

Remus’s demanding and controlling demeanor only added at the pleasure James was giving you with his mouth. You did as he said. James continued to quicken his pace, whines and moans falling from your lips.

“Does that feel good?” Remus asked.

“Yes, Rem, I-“

“No fair!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed, “if you ask her all the questions, you get to hear her moan your name. Selfish prick.”

“Are you gonna let this be about her or what?” Remus retorted.

“I am! I should be asking you the same thing, why do you always get to be in control of everything?”

They bickered back and forth for a few minutes, but the entire time, James remained focused on you. He watched from between your legs as his tongue made you squirm and moan, and he had you nearly seeing stars.

You desperately tried to tell him you were going to come, but Remus and Sirius were too busy bickering for James to hear you. You tapped at his head to signal him, and he got the message, sucking at your bud until you finally came. Your chest rapidly rose and fell as James continued to lick you until he had tasted every last drop of cum from your hole, standing up and placing a wet kiss on your lips.

“What, did you just give up?” Sirius asked when he saw James standing.

“No, idiot, she came,” James replied, “you two dickheads were too busy arguing to notice.”

Remus’s nostrils flared. “You just let us keep arguing?”

“She tried to say something!” James defended you, and partly himself.

“Baby, you ok?” Remus checked in.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“You got a little more in you?”

“Mhm.”

“You want me?”

“Mhm.”

Remus pulled his pants and boxers down and climbed on top of you, pulling your underwear completely off of you as he placed his knees on either side of your waist.

“You sure?” he asked, wanting to confirm your consent.

“Yes,” you responded.

“And you’re sure you’re okay with it being me?”

Instead of responding with words, you tilted your head up and kissed Remus, assuring him that you wanted it to be him. You would have been okay with any of the boys, but Remus was always so in control, it made sense that he would be your first. Your relationship with him was always a little less silly, and a little more intimate, than your relationship with the other two.

“Are you ready?” he checked, lining up his already hard cock at your entrance.

“Yeah,” you replied, “just- please be nice, okay?”

Remus smiled, “of course, baby.”

You nodded at him and locked eyes as he slowly pushed into you, a long gasp leaving your lips as he filled you up. His cock was bigger than you thought it would be, and it was taking you a while to adjust to his size.

“Shit, Rem,” you breathed out, “you should have warned me that you’re that fucking big.”

Sirius growled next to you, your words driving him crazy. He couldn’t help but pull out his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched you.

Remus gave you plenty of time to adjust before you nodded at him, signaling that he could move. He started slowly, pushing in and out of you as an excruciatingly slow pace. It burned, and you almost told Remus to stop, but after a few minutes, the pain subsided, and the pleasure took over.

A particularly filthy moan left your lips, and Sirius cursed under his breath. James appeared behind your head, stroking your hair as Remus’s head dropped to your shoulder as he began to pick up the pace.

“Shit, baby,” he moaned, “you feel so fucking good.”

“You look so fucking good,” Sirius breathed.

“Thank you, Siri,” you cried out, causing Sirius to cum in his hand, the nickname making him lose all control.

“What a good girl,” Remus spoke, his thrusts quickening until he was causing your body to jolt upward with each hit from the force, “you’re doing so well.”

James placed a kiss on your forehead and you reached up to grab his hand for leverage. You squeezed his hand, the pleasure between your legs becoming almost too much.

“Relax, baby, you’re being such a good girl,” James said.

Remus’ breathing quickened. “You’re so tight, angel, if you keep squeezing my cock like that I’m not gonna last,” he warned.

“I c-can’t help it,” you told him.

“I know baby,” he replied.

“I d- don’t know how to m- make it stop,” you said.

Remus giggled, “you don’t have to make it stop. It feels good for me.”

“Oh,” you whimpered, “that’s good.”

Remus giggled again. You were so cute, even in the middle of losing your virginity. Remus leaned down and kissed you, your lips moving in harmony as he began to pound into you. Any sense of kindness and mercy he had for this being your first time went out the window when you kissed.

Your moans grew louder and louder, and you tried to cover your mouth with your hand to quiet yourself down.

“Ah ah ah,” Sirius tsked, pulling your hand away, “none of that.”

“Rem- Rem- I-“

“I know angel, let go.”

Your high crashed over you again, your hips bucking upward to meet Remus’ final few thrusts before he came inside of you, the feeling of you squeezing him becoming too much for him to hold on. Remus stayed inside of you for a moment, watching your face as you calmed down from your high, a slight shake in your legs.

“What a good girl,” James praised, kissing your forehead.

“You okay?” Remus checked in, pulling out of you and standing in front of you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, “‘m okay.”

Sirius leaned down to kiss you again. “Everything you imagined?”

“Mhm.” You were too tired to formulate complete words or sentences.

“You wanna skip the party?” Sirius continued.

“Mhm.”

“You wanna cuddle and watch a movie?”

“Mhm.” You shifted so your head was resting on Sirius’ lap as he began to stroke your hair.

Sirius smiled. “And then maybe round two.”