#r and the bed i think was different? there was a headboard which there is not now

[aeyumicore]

please & thank you

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with very little/no plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 7.5k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, SLIGHT spoilers to the lore (with some of my own interpretations and theories), oral m!receiving, fingering f!receiving, face/throat fucking, finger sucking, kinda rough, size difference, cuffing/tied up (m!receiving), sylus kindaaaa/degrading mean but in a tasteful way, he’s also very soft for reader, sylus has a FILTHY mouth, orgasm denial (f! and m!receiving), mirror sex, improper use of Evol, use of Y/N, cute petnames hehe (little dove, little bird, sweetheart, doll, etc), slight predator and prey, choking (kinda breath play??? not really), some references to lore (main storyline + midnight stealth), kinda sub!reader, dom!sylus, THIS IS FILTHY YALL IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3

━ ✧.˖ A/N: hi guyssss she is here <3 MY FIRST ever sylus fic, first of many me thinks bc i am so utterly infatuated w him im sorry zayne LOL

i did NOT end up making this connected to ‘midnight stealth’ OR ‘no defense zone’ (although some midnight stealth plot is referenced a tiny bit in the beginning). any resemblances to these two memories are purely coincidental, mostly similar because there’s use of cuffs/restraints in all three. this is purely a standalone filthy fic

this has veryyyy little plot, i decided to keep it that way so im sorry to those who wanted to see plot in this ;_; i didn’t want to burn out, which i likely would’ve because pivoting from what i had (5.6k words) to a more plot based fic would have taken me a few more days and probably double the words and i just couldn’t do that to myself. 

i appreciate you guys for supporting me and i really respect each and every opinion so i hope i didn’t let anyone down by not doing the plot version. there will be plenty of opportunities for that i promise <3

pls enjoy :) any comments or reblogs r greatly appreciated (and loved) by me <3 they help me keep motivated to keep writing and truly make my whole week.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ .

You were playing with fire.

Actually, what you were doing was definitely more dangerous and infinitely more idiotic than playing with fire. 

It was downright deranged. 

It appeared the silver haired man beneath you agreed, his jaw ticking dangerously as his deep crimson eyes crinkled in warning, “Are you sure this is a game you want to play?” 

You knew the answer was definitely no. But the mere glimpse of the Onychinus leader beneath you, at your mercy, was enough to make you push through the thrilling fear coursing through your veins.

With Sylus’s chiseled body unwillingly sprawled out before you, you situated yourself in between his thighs. Though his words and expression were laced with a cautionary edge, his legs spread open for you. 

His wrists were bound with the two silver cuffs you’d purchased at a novelty store on girls day out with Tara, each hand simultaneously locked to the steel beams of your bed’s headboard. With his arms bound above his head, his button up shirt rode up to expose his pale and scarred skin and the defined outlines of the chiseled pelvic muscles that lead to his manhood.

It wasn’t a stretch to say you’d planned this, after all you did buy the cuffs with Sylus in mind. And you’d never forget what Luke and Kieran had told you, in what felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Boss is most vulnerable when he’s sleeping.” 

Except now you weren’t binding him for the purpose of incapacitating him to find that damned brooch he’d taunted you with. Now, when he’d dozed off after you’d forced him to marathon the Harry Potter series with you, you tied him up with only one goal in mind.

Well maybe two. To tease and to punish.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you watch the way Sylus’s naval rises and falls irregularly, a subtle sign of his boiling anticipation. His exposed pelvis is dusted in a faint path of hair, trailing to where his pants hang dangerously low on his hips, after you’d taken his belt off. 

Sylus watches you with a careful eye as your hands find his waistband, tugging his bottoms and his boxers down in one motion. He tuts disapprovingly, even as his body lifts every so slightly to assist you in undressing him, “I’ve already warned you once. I won’t warn you again.” 

And yet, there’s an undeniable amusement in his voice that lets you know it’s safe to keep going. Your eye contact never breaks as you tug his clothing all the way down, until they rest at his ankles. His hardening cock springs free as you do so, the thick mushroom head already leaking a shiny streak of precum. As it slaps against his abdomen, Sylus’s carmine irises darken, but he refuses to make any sounds. The screech of steel rattling against steel is loud in the tense air, the formidable man’s fists clenched so tightly his nails threaten to break his skin. 

You bend down slowly, torturously languid, until his masculine scent invades your senses. You shiver in pleasure, positively addicted to every part of him. Sylus’s stomach heaves as he curses you inwardly; you were the only devilish minx that could even fathom rendering him into this vulnerable state. The only person he’d ever allow to see him like this. 

“You’ve become quite bold, little bird. Perhaps I’ve been too lenient with you.”

His cocky attitude makes you want to shiver, but you find the strength to retort back, “Perhaps you have.”

Not wanting to give him a chance to respond, and a chance for you to lose your courage, you let your tongue run over the thick tip of his erection, collecting his arousal on your tongue. You make a show of savoring his taste, letting your eyes bat at him while you lick him clean. 

Sylus is hypnotized, crunching up to watch you. His wrists pull against the metal restraints, growing irritated with being held back. Of course, if he’d wanted to, he could snap the cuffs with a mere tick of his fingers, but he found it amusing to watch his mischievous little bird believe she had control. 

When you take his head fully into your lips, Sylus’s hips involuntarily buck up into the heaven that is your mouth. Though surprised, you do your best to accommodate the extra inches, tongue twirling around his leaking slit as your jaw unhinges to take in his fat girth. 

“Fuck.” 

Sylus’s dark eyebrows are scrunched as he fights the urge to destroy the cuffs to get to you, wanting nothing more than to sink his fingers into your hair and push you down until you couldn’t breathe. But he prided himself as a man of patience, even if he despised being tested. 

And you were absolutely testing him. Your puffy lips caressed his sensitive veins, tongue assaulting every flaming nerve of his massive length, delicate and soft fingers leaving no inch of him untouched. Yet you moved so languidly. Deliberately testing how far you could push him, testing his resolve. Not that he would ever beg, but he desperately wished you’d move faster, take him deeper. 

“My love,” he purrs, deceptively calm even as your filthy tongue lathered his most sensitive parts, “I implore you to release me. While I’m still feeling generous.” 

Doing your best to shut him up, you take him into the back of your throat, fingers shifting from the base of his manhood to his heavyset balls. You’re only half successful in your antics, as you do cut off Sylus’s demands, only to be replaced by an inexplicable string of curses. The daunting leader of the Onychinus, whose name evoked fear itself to most, unraveled at your whims. A man who had no weaknesses, save for one.

You.

With his head thrown back, hair tousled and matted with a thin layer of sweat, he began to pant heavily. His neck bobbed deeply to the rhythm of his gasps, hands pulling against the restraints you’d locked him into. The sound of metal clashing against metal is almost deafening, your head snapping up to his arms bound above his head. 

For a second you’d feared he’d snapped the steel cuffs, his biceps rippling and forearm veins bulging with the sheer strength of his arms. But fortunately for you, his wrists were still firmly bound, a red angry circle forming where the metal met the pale skin of his hands. 

“Do you really think – hah – this will end well for you, dove?” Sylus considers this your very last warning, crunching up once again to watch you, your mouth full of his cock, saliva dribbling down your chin as you try to accommodate his thickness. He swears under his breath at the sight of you, his woman, the only person he’d ever even consider letting his guard down around, pleasuring him so sweetly and enthusiastically. Even if you were so foolish that you thought you could get away with typing him up. 

You look up innocently at him, fluttering your eyelashes as you fuck him with your mouth. Though you let him hit the back of your throat every time, your rhythm is intentionally and torturously slow, edging him without making it obvious enough for punishment. And although each intentional motion elicits the most mind numbing grip from your gag reflex on his throbbing erection, he’s losing his mind from how much more he wants. How much more he needs. 

“Faster.”

You nearly choke as you giggle at his demands, releasing his cock with a resounding pop. Of course, even tied up, Sylus didn't use the word ‘please.’ The man of unthinkable power was absolutely used to getting what he wanted without even batting an eye. It was a habit that he rarely relented on, and when he did it was only for you. 

“What’s the magic word?”

Sylus glowered at you, jaw twitching dangerously as he did his best to hold himself back, “Watch it.” 

It was truly taking every ounce of willpower he had to not rip the cuffs off the steel beams of your bed, taking your headboard apart with it. All so he could have more.

“Sylus,” you pout, still using your hands to gingerly stroke him with a featherlike touch. Nothing intense enough to get him off. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to say ‘please’ when asking for something?” You give him a pointed squeeze, thumb stroking the underside of his swollen head. 

He curses, pelvis thrusting up into your fist to try and chase the pleasure you’re withholding from him, “Fuck, if you’re going to act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like one.”

“I just want to hear the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ Please. See how easy that is?”

“Y/N, my heart,” Sylus purrs lowly, eyes glinting dangerously, “I won’t tolerate any more disobedience.”

“Well then you don’t get what you want.” As soon as the words left your mouth you knew you’d regret them. 

Before you can even blink, you find yourself pressed firmly into the mattress, your head hanging off the side, hair dangling freely. The air feels strangely brisk, and you can vaguely feel your nipples hardening. It’s then you realize you’re naked. But you hadn’t felt Sylus lay a single finger on you.

His Evol.

You’d become so accustomed to Sylus’s Evol that you no longer felt its slightly suffocating  invisible web when it touched you, unlike when you’d first met him in the N109 zone. The countless times he’d use his Evol to guide your lips to his, your hand into his larger ones, or to undress you, had actually made you quite fond of the touch of his Evol. 

Little did you know that Sylus had actually been practicing lightening up the intensity of it, for you. He’d always detested seeing the uncomfortable scrunch of your eyebrows, the hostile goosebumps that would raise where his Evol touched you. So he’d absolved himself to train the claws of his Evol to soften, instead becoming that of a gentle caress. Only for you, of course. For everyone else, they got the skin-shredding talons that parents warned about in cautionary tales to their children. 

Hanging upside down, the glint of the ceiling light against the silver cuffs hanging off your headboard catches your eye, snapping you from your thoughts. The metal loops were still completely intact, but unlocked. Of course you knew he’d use his Evol to escape eventually, but it still surprised you how he managed to do it so effortlessly. Graceful in everything he did. 

You try to sit up, but Sylus’s hand wraps itself softly around your throat and holds you back down. He tsks scornfully, a playful warning in the swirling glowing cerise of his eyes. His grip is gentle enough where you can still speak normally. Rough enough where you want more.

So you pout childishly, “It’s just like you to use your Evol for such cheap tricks.” 

From beneath his towering frame, you can just barely see him raise his perfectly arched eyebrow. Most of him is obstructed by his massive erection pressed at your nose, menacingly imposing before you. “Cheap? Doll, there’s nothing cheap about me. And nothing cheap about the things I’m going to do to you.”

You shiver involuntarily at his threats, your thighs clenching together in anticipation. Sylus’s words were always harsh, but when it came to you there was always such a profound sincerity and gentleness behind his actions, even when he was brutally devouring your body. So the danger edged into his words only served to excite you, fueling the dampness that had formed between your legs. 

And of course, his perfect cock dangling in front of your lips, still glistening with a sheen of his arousal and your saliva. Hanging so closely to your waiting tongue, but never touching. That definitely did not help the throbbing ache in between your thighs. 

“I think you’ve had enough fun, don’t you agree?”

Feeling daringly bold, you playfully curse him, “Screw y–” But before you can finish getting the words out, Sylus grips your jaw, shoving himself into your waiting mouth. The force he uses is enough to make your eyes roll back, the feeling of being full of him making you forget what you’d wanted to say to begin with. You’re careful to pull back your teeth as he finds his way to one of his favorite places, the back of your throat. 

“Let’s give that mouth something to do, other than run itself, hmm?”

You groan in response, letting the vibrations of your throat speak for you. Sylus grunts, removing his hand from your throat and weaving it into your hair like he’d wanted to earlier. His grip is strong, just hard enough that you feel an immense pleasure from the stinging pull. With a firm hand on your scalp, he fucks into your face, his meticulously groomed hair brushing against your nose at every thrust. 

His speed and vigor is relentless, not that you’d complain even if you could. The feeling of Sylus driving in and out of your throat, like you were a fleshlight, had your body vibrating with need, clit throbbing in ecstasy. How you could feel this good just sucking his cock was beyond you. Your unrestrained moans were an absolute orchestra to his ears, the vibrations running through every nerve ending in his erection, causing him to release a string of his own sounds 

“You’re so – hah – exquisite like this, dove. Choking on my cock instead of your words.”

You whine at him, so unbelievably turned on by the filthy way he speaks to you. His skin slaps against your wet mouth, and an obscene amount of drool mixed with precum drips off your cheeks and onto the carpeted floor beneath you. You loll your tongue out to try and catch his copious dribbles of precum, not wanting to waste any part of him. 

“I can see my cock in your throat, sweetheart,” he cooed, using a hand to brush against your throat, where his erection bulges against your neck each time he fucks into you. 

Tears streamed from your eyes as Sylus’s pace increased, gripping onto your hair for even more leverage against your beautiful face. 

“Crying already? Not feeling so bold anymore, my love?” 

You ignore his patronizing words, trying to focus instead on your own pleasure. With one hand still gripping the hard muscles of his bubbly rear, your other hand wanders to the quivering area between your thighs, fiddling with the bundle of nerves that was slick with your arousal. You desperately seek to relieve some of the tension building up in your gut, all from just Sylus’s cock in your mouth.

But before you can give yourself any inkling of pleasure, you feel a familiar force of energy pulling your hand away. 

“I don’t recall giving you permission to touch yourself.”

You nearly sob at his words. You want to speak, plead with him to touch you, or at least let you touch yourself, pride be damned. But his unbelievable girth makes it impossible to do anything but devour him repeatedly.

The white haired man above you watches you carefully, swearing at how your tear soaked face makes his resolve to punish you crumble ever so slightly. Taking pity on you, he brings your hand to his, weaving his long fingers into yours. You hold his hand tightly, enjoying the way his much larger hand clasps into yours, fingers digging into your sensitive flesh.

“Good girl,” he coos in praise, voice tinged with a condescension that makes your skin crawl in excitement, “You don’t touch what’s mine, unless I say, hm?”

You look up at him with wide wet eyes, nodding obediently as he continues to ravage your face. He pressed your hand deeper into the mattress, his thrusts becoming so intense that you knew you’d have a hard time speaking tomorrow, your throat battered and bruised. 

From your position, you don’t see the glowing light that emanates from your joined fingers. But Sylus does, and he watches in a concealed wonder at the way you can so easily resonate with him now. You didn’t even need to try, a single touch was all it took. It was a testament to how much you’d grown to trust him. 

No, it was a testament to the deep love and respect you’d both come to hold for each other. You’d both definitely come a long way from when he’d captured, or when you let him capture, you at the N109 zone all that time ago. The thought of that threatens to make Sylus shiver as he continues to ram himself deep into your warm wet throat. He watched the way you took him so eagerly, hand gripping his for dear life, your other hand coming up to stroke his heavyset balls as they slapped against your face. The way your poor little throat bulged every time he thrusted into it, the bump so visible to his hungry crimson eyes.

Oh, how you ruined him. He’d fucking marry you.

Your jaw ached, having been open as widely as possible for far too long now, but you did your best to continue to take him. The feeling of him using your mouth was more than enough to keep you growing wetter, needing more. Your thighs squeezed together, as you rocked into nothing, wanting nothing more than to feel any friction between your legs.

Sylus watched as you pathetically tried to find pleasure in the empty air, nearly growling at how arousing the sight was. He was fueled with such an intense desire and love for you, nothing like he’d ever felt before. And that love and desire was enough for him to concede, if even just a little bit, for you.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling…charitable today, my dove,” he murmurs, releasing your hair and bending over your body. His erection never leaves your mouth, but he hovers so that your sight is filled with the view of his solid abdominal muscles. You cry out against his member when the familiar feel of his fingers finds your clit. You gasp out, choking on him, your hips jolting up eagerly to meet his torrid touch.

Sylus chuckles, a satisfied smirk making its way onto his unfairly gorgeous face, “Look at how eager you are…all this just from the taste of cock?”

Not able to respond, you hump up into his hand, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment of how desperate you were for him. Sylus only gives you a pointed thrust into your throat, making you gag deliciously around him again.

“Such an insatiable little bird,” he murmured, fingers expertly toying with you.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” his skilled ministrations never stopping, “I wish you could see how lovely you look with your mouth full.” 

Your eyes rolled back when he entered you, one finger at a time. He cursed at how tightly you gripped just one of his fingers. He had half a mind to just bury himself into your perfect cunt right then and there. And that’s just what he’d do. He was never used to not indulging in what he wanted, why stop now?

You felt the familiar shift in energy, a gentle hold on your body, until you found yourself laying on the middle of your bed, Sylus situated between your knees, fingers still toying with you. Your neck screaming in relief at the plush surface, mind reeling from the sudden shift. 

The white haired man bends to hover over you, free hand caressing your jaw, his frighteningly beautiful face before yours, “Hello, my love.”

Your voice is hoarse, sounding unfamiliar, “Hi.” It’s nothing more than a pitiful squeak.

Sylus chuckles, his chest rumbling warmly at your adorably vulnerable state, “How’s your throat?”

You glare at him, trying to steady your raspy voice, “Don’t patronize me.”

He smirks, not the least bit apologetic, but says, “Forgive me, love.” He doesn’t give you a chance to sass him further, instead bringing your chin up to his. His lips slot onto yours, deceptively slow at first and quickly progressing to a vigor that matched the way he’d rammed himself into your throat. 

The bruising intensity of the kiss made your mind muddle, your hands coming up to grasp his neck to ground you. You gasped at the feeling of his heartbeat pounding so forcefully in his neck. The familiar feeling of an earth shattering orgasm edges into your numbed mind, every heightened sense filled with Sylus and only Sylus.

You finally break away, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him scissoring in and out of you, enough to have you on the brink of climaxing, “Sy-Sylus, I’m–”

Sylus reads you like the back of his hand, withdrawing his fingers and roughly grabbing your face to look up at him. You sob at the loss of friction, looking up at him with teary questioning eyes. 

The ceiling lights illuminate behind Sylus, forming a halo like ring atop his head. He was so hauntingly and terrifyingly beautiful. Not unlike that of a fallen angel, whose sole purpose was to ruin you. 

And just as you’re admiring him, Sylus looks down at you. Unbeknownst to you, he also considers you to be his very own angel sent from the heavens. Bringing light and salvation to the shadowed crevices of his soul.

But even then, he can’t help but tease you, the urge to see you ruined at his hand. An angel with tattered wings, so utterly spent with lust. “You don’t cum until I say, hm?” As if to punctuate his point, he puts his fingers, wet with your slick, in between your parted lips. The taste of you is strong on him, enough to distract you from Sylus, who’s lining up his more massive than ever erection with your weeping slit. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Suck. I know you can do better than that.”  

He presses his fingers harder onto your tongue, relishing in how warm you feel around him. At your adorable pouty glare, he pushes his leaking tip into you.

You yelp in surprise, biting down on his fingers in your mouth. Sylus hisses, but the pain only further arouses him, making him shove into you suddenly. Your hands come up to grasp his forearm, the veins bulging under your touch. 

The feeling of him entering you is so overwhelming, the only thing grounding you to the present was the way his fingers felt and tasted against your tongue. And so you devoured him in earnest, much to his satisfaction. 

It’s not long before he bottoms out, his head kisses your cervix, just enough to have your eyes rolling back, sparks of hot white pleasure clouding your vision. 

Sylus removes his fingers from your mouth, bringing his thumb to his own lips and brushing it across his parted mouth, his other fingers outstretched as he licks across his thick thumb. You whimper at the sight, so unbelievably seductive he has to be doing it on purpose. 

“You always taste divine.” His movements have all but halted completely, his thick girth just sitting inside of you, brushing against your womb. And even though the stretch is enough to practically compress your lungs, you want more. 

“D-Don’t tease Sylus,” you whine pathetically, “Fuck me.” 

The smile on his face is as cocky as ever, the corner of his lips curving up, as sharp as his edged jaw. 

“So bold. Do you really think you’re in any position to make demands?”

He gives you just one pointed thrust, cockhead nestling so deliciously into your sweetest spots, but stopping just at that. You cry out, fingers gripping the comforter so tightly your knuckles turn white. 

“If I recall correctly…someone once told me something about saying…what was it? ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’?”

He grins down at you, bending forward so that he hovers right over your face. He would never let you know but the pouty grimace on your lust glowing face was nearly enough to have him caving into your every whim, punishment forgotten in the wind. 

“Hm? So what do we say, sweetheart?”

With his cock situated so perfectly in you, it’s impossible for you to do anything but follow his every command, no matter how much it bruises your ego.

“P-Please?”

His smirk deepens, fingers cupping your chin up to face him, “You can do better than that, Y/N.”

You groan as he shifts, giving you just the tiniest bit of friction where it mattered. You do your best to find the confidence, “Please Sylus.”

There’s the faintest flicker of darkness in his eyes, a twitch of unraveling at the way you effortlessly purr his name. If you had any idea the things you did to him, the mighty and fearless leader of the Onychinus, it would be his absolute undoing. 

“Please what, my dove? Come on, use that beautiful voice of yours.”

Before you can let out your snarky response, his fingers travel to your neck, stroking your sensitive pulse gently before pressing down to compress your airway. 

“Or is this throat only good for taking my cock?”

You whine at his words, patience absolutely gone. You wrap your legs around his waist and force him closer. A pathetic attempt to get him to thrust into you. Your hands come up to the back of his neck, and your tear glistening eyes search his pleadingly. He’s taken aback by the sudden shift, a small gasp escaping his parted lips. In his surprise, he lets himself be guided to you, his forehead falling to lay atop yours, his breath fanning against your own. 

“Please Sylus, please fuck me. I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl. Please.”

The curse that leaves Sylus’s voice is barely perceptible as he drinks you in. Your cheeks were still streaked with tears, your eyes wide and glassy. Your lips were puffy from his bruising kisses, and cheeks heated with desire. There was absolutely nothing in the universe that could match how utterly gorgeous you were. His gorgeous woman. His to ruin. 

His voice low with longing and hunger, “Fuck, okay love. I’ll give you what you want.”

He manipulates the energy around you, raising your arm above your hand. His slender fingers dance up your exposed skin, until they find your fingers. His nails graze your inflamed skin, fingers toying with yours. For a brief moment, he enjoys how much smaller your hand feels in his. His delicate little bird.

“Hold on tight.”

Your fingers grip his, your nails digging in when he finally pulls his cock out, leaving only his head still snuggly inside. Without giving you a second to breathe, he’s plummeting himself back into your sopping cunt. Your combined slick ensures there’s zero resistance, only the sounds of wet slaps filling the space between you. 

Sylus’s forehead still rests against yours, his free arm bent above your head, helping support him as he fucks you with a painfully delicious intensity. Your cunt milks him perfectly, the warmth far too inviting and the tightness much too constricting. His fingers grip yours forcefully, trying to offset the way your pussy tries to suck the living soul out of him. 

“Sy-Sylus,” you cry out, nails digging crescents into his skin, your other hand coming up to rake red scratches into his back, “Slow – ngh – slow down!” Your brain is a jumbled mess, confused at the words your tongue lets out when your body only wants more.

Sylus’s chuckle is low and almost sinister, his pace never relenting, “That’s funny. I recall you saying you’d be a good girl.” He shifts his weight to his knees, moving his palm to your naval, pressing down. You squeal at the feeling of his palm pressing into your stomach, your sensitive walls being compressed into his cock spearing in and out of you. 

“And good girls take what they’re given, hm?”  

Moans and whimpers are the only thing you’re capable of producing, his pace brutal, like he was trying to find his way into your throat from your cunt. You don’t notice his hand traveling further south until his thumb presses into your swollen clit, flicking hard. You screech, your back arching off the bed, giving him further access to your dripping cunt. 

“Answer me when I speak to you, sweetheart.” 

“Yes! Yes, I’m a good girl, I can take it!” you all but screamed, spine so arched you felt like you were levitating.

The erotic cries that leave your lips make it difficult for Sylus to think straight, so he doesn’t. He fucks you with a ferocity that was nothing short of animalistic, the only thing he can think of is how many different ways he can and will make you cum. 

He presses your joined palms deeper into the mattress, eyes searching yours desperately. For what, you were unsure. But as his scarlet irises bore into yours, you felt an overwhelming sense of emotion catch in your throat.

Propping yourself slightly on your elbows, you pressed your forehead to Sylus’s, his sweat dampened bangs fluttering against your eyelashes.You reach up to cup the back of his head, pulling him towards you. His right hand never leaves your clit, his left staying tightly clasped with yours.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You moan into him as he claims you fully, thrusts moving in tandem with his tongue. It’s a torrid clash of tongue and teeth, enough passion to have the Aether core in your heart throbbing dangerously erratically. 

“Syluuus,” you slur as you pull away to breathe, “I-I’m..I’m gon–” You can’t get the words out, the tip of his cock against your cervix and fingers on your clit bringing you into another dimension, one filled with him. The scent, the sound, the feel, the sight of him. 

“I know. Getting so goddamn tight,” he grits out, jaw locking as he tries to steady himself against your vice grip. Sylus was a man of boundless stamina and restraint, but when it came to you… When it came to the absolute heaven that was your body, he could hold nothing back. 

Just as you neared your orgasm, Sylus stops again. You find your body being moved again, but this time Sylus’s hands are lifting you, and not his Evol. His strong arms lift you so that you’re sitting on his lap, your back pressed against his muscled chest, and his back leaned up against the bed.

He does however use his Evol to drag over the gold arched full-length mirror you had propped up against the corner of your bedroom, so that it sits right in front of the bed. Your vision is filled with the gleaming reflection of you, naked on Sylus’s lap, his arrogant smirk right by the top of your head. His muscular arms are draped over your thighs, spreading open your glistening folds, fully exposing you before the mirror. 

“Sylus s-stop. It’s embarrassing,” you whine, averting your gaze at the lewd sight, and the even filthier sounds of his fingers against your copious slick. But he grips your jaw firmly, turning you back to the mirror. 

“Look how beautiful you are,” he murmurs, lips pressed against your ear, “Look.” 

You puff your cheeks, fighting against his fingers.

“Look, love. Or you don’t get to cum,” he purrs in your ear.

You mutter sulkily, knowing full well his threats are anything but empty, “You’re evil.” 

But you obey diligently, letting his fingers guide your face forward. The sight before you is so unbelievably filthy, Sylus’s long fingers digging into your thighs to keep them spread open, his other fingers playing with your swollen lips. Even on his lap, he was a head taller than you, His soft white hair is matted with sweat, his cheeks dusted a peachy red with how vigorously he’d just been fucking you.

As your eyes meet in the mirror, Sylus lifts you from underneath your thighs, and spears you onto his cock. You cry out at the feeling of being stretched open again, Sylus’s own ecstasy fueled grunts in your ear.

With you atop him, his cock reaches so unbelievably deep inside you that you feel the tears returning. Your eyes screw shut as his tip repeatedly brushes against your cervix, the familiar pain quickly dulling into an intense pleasure. 

Suddenly you feel Sylus’s teeth at the crook of your neck, and arm coming across your chest to enclose over your entire throat. His sharp canines dig into the area where your neck meets your shoulder, biting just hard enough to make your eyes fly open to face his in the mirror. His eyebrows are quirked at you, amusement evident in his sharp ruby eyes.

He doesn’t speak, instead keeping his mouth attached to your pulse point. But the dark sultry heat swirling in his eyes that you can see reflected in the mirror is a clear and wordless command. 

Watch.

And who were you to disobey him, when his body brought this much pleasure to your own. 

So with your eyes locked on his in the mirror, Sylus begins to bounce you in earnest on his lap. And while you moan and whimper as he springs you so effortlessly on his cock, like you weighed nothing more than a mere toy, his own noises are muffled by his teeth that are sunk into your fluttering neck. 

His eyes never leave yours in the mirror, darkened underneath his eyebrows, glowing with red hot lust. The way he watches you is so intimately primal, like a predator toying with its prey before the kill. 

With his hungry gaze locking yours in place and the lewd wet sounds of slick skin pounding against one another, you feel the alarmingly rapid tightening of your abdomen that signals your orgasm. Sylus feels it too, your walls tightening so intensely that the outline of his veins might imprint into you. Your grip coaxes his own cock toward release, his jaw tightening as to keep himself in check. 

He releases your bruised skin, admiring how breathtaking you look with his marks on you. His hand leaves your clit to rest on your tummy, stroking the skin there. You can feel him use his Evol to keep you in place, only the raw strength of his thighs and abs keeping you in steady motion on his length. 

“Look,” he croons in your ear, teeth grazing against your sensitive earlobes, “Can you see where I am, dove? I’m allll the way here ” His husky voice drawls, hand on your abdomen pressing down. You can definitely see the distinct outline of something large thrusting in and out of you. Your eyes widen at the mirror, mesmerized at how your bodies connect, almost resonating on their own. Sylus’s eyes are also glued to the way the base of his cock, shiny with a ring of arousal, forces your tiny fluttering cunt to take him in all his glory.  

“Tell me how it feels, hm? Tell me how I make you feel.” When you don’t respond, too lost in the sight in the mirror, his fingers come back down to squeeze your clit,

“Sylus! – ngh – feels ssoo so good,” you simper, panting through the hold he still has on your throat, the pressure quickly becoming far too addicting, “I-I…”

“Hah,” he groans into your ear, “You what baby? Tell me.”

“M’gunna cuuum,” you wail as his angle shifts just slightly, cock driving into your g spot. Sylus knows just how to play with you, his fingers sending you to heaven and back repeatedly. He was so thick that you felt like he'd split you in two, your cunt and thighs being stretched to their limits against the sloppy friction.

“Hmmm, is my beautiful girl going to make a mess on me? Does she deserve to?”

The mere thought that he might deny your climax again has you sobbing, tears of anguished ecstasy rolling down your face as his pace picks up even further.

“P-Pleaaase – unghh – please let me. I’m a g-good girl, I’ll be so – hnngh – good, I promise.”

Sylus had no intention of denying you again, but now he physically couldn’t. Because now, watching the fat tears roll down your cheek and hearing your beautiful pleas, he too could feel himself pulse with the ache to fill you up. As he watched your breathtaking form in the mirror, he cursed the Gods for sending the only thing that could ruin him. 

You.

And yet, being ruined by you felt so damn good.

“Good for who, my love?”

Your vision has become clouded by your tears and the black spots that blot your eyesight. But the possessive purr in Sylus’s voice reaches you, through all the blinding pleasure, and makes butterflies flutter in your chest.

Your hands come up behind you to grasp behind his neck, and you strain yourself so that you turn just slightly to face him. For a second Sylus looks taken aback, but he quickly composes himself, the confident smile returning to his lips. 

“Nggghh – for you, Sylus.” The sincerity of your shaking voice wipes the cocky smirk off his face, his thrusts faltering ever so slightly. For a brief second, Sylus can’t feel anything. He can’t feel the way your cunt, on the precipice of release, squeezes so forcefully that it threatens to break him in half, the way your soaking thighs ripple against his lap as he pounds into you, the way your fingers play with the hair at the back of his head.

Fate had played a cruel trick on the two of you. Two tragically entwined Aether cores. Two birds of a feather, trapped in the cage destiny had built. 

But now, there is only you and him. Fate and destiny be damned. 

“I’m yours Sylus. Always yours.”

Your words, delicate and simpering, pull him back to reality. All the sensations he’d briefly been numbed to came crashing back. The torturously delicious way you felt around him, atop him, and against him swarmed back all at once. And to top it all off, the sight of your fluttery wide wet eyes, hazed over with a fog of lust, staring at him with such wonder and adoration. Your eyes alone were practically making love to him.

It made him absolutely feral.

You squeal, thighs doing their best to grip against Sylus’s lap as he bounces you with an unprecedented vigor, his hand holding your throat to keep you somewhat steady. You watch his muscles bulge, his much larger frame very much on display behind you. Powerful and imposing – a true god-like glory. 

“That’s fucking right, you’re mine,” he hisses in your ear, jaws clenched to hold back the moans your pussy threaten to pull from his body. 

“Gonna cum in you, yeah? Would my slutty girl like that?"

“Y-Yes!” you squeal, so close to coming undone, “Pleeease Sylus!  I-I’m s’close, I’ll do anything please!” You were quickly losing your voice amidst all the screaming and vigorous activities.

You can see Sylus devilish smile, releasing your throat to tilt your chin towards him.

“Anything? You’re making a deal with the devil, little dove.”

With your face so dangerously close to his, he can’t resist. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his lips crashing onto yours, locked in the sweltering passion of your bodies. The feel of his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth is just enough to send you headfirst into the orgasm you’d been on the brink of for so long.

And because of that, your body couldn’t hold back the gush of excitement that squirted from where Sylus was connected to you. It’s so messy you can’t help the way your cheeks burn in embarrassment, even amidst the short circuiting of your pleasure-numbed brain. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Sylus bites out, the tautening of your orgasm stricken cunt nearly squeezing him into unconsciousness. He fucks you through your blissed out state, and it isn’t long before he follows your lead. 

Like everything Sylus does, the way he cums is frighteningly powerful. Your body involuntarily shivers at how hot he is, but more so just how much there is. You can both clearly see the thick milky white seed seeping down Sylus’s cock, even as he continues to fuck into you. His thrusts are slower now, but more intentional. Conveying every ounce of passion into the way he rocks into you. Overstimulation quickly grips you, and you weakly tap at his thighs.

“Sylus, no-no more. S’too much.”

“M’not done,” he groans into your ear as he continues to thrust into you, and it’s then you feel his cock still shooting ropes of his hot spend inside you. He does, however, release your clit, shoving his fingers in your mouth, knowing it'll give you something to ground yourself amidst the sensitivity while he rides out the waves of his climax. 

You gladly accept his fingers, grasping his forearm and sucking like his arm was a dessert. The taste of your mixed slick helps distract you from the intense aftershocks that wrack your body. It’s all enough to have Sylus spurting out everything he has, drained completely empty, milked utterly dry. 

When you feel him finally still, you crack your eyes open, almost scared to see the aftermath. 

The waning sun bounced beams of golden sunlight off your sweat, tears, and cum slicked bodies. Your own body was also littered in pretty little bruises, in the shape of Sylus’s teeth and fingers. Bruises in places you hadn’t even felt Sylus sink his teeth into. They quite literally looked like swirls of paint against a blank canvas. 

Your hair was a mess, and your tear stained face was no better. The area between your thighs was red and puffy, leaking an obscene amount of white cream, all the while still stuffed to the brim with Sylus’s softening member. Even half hard, he stretched you absolutely full. 

On the other hand, the man in question looked absolutely ethereal as he loomed above you in the mirror. His hair sat lusciously soft, gently blowing with the breeze entering through the cracked window. His muscles still flexed gently as they recovered from the vigorous activities, strong chest rising and falling rhythmically with his steadying heartbeat. 

And finally his eyes that watch you back so carefully, the carmine orbs half lidded with satisfied bliss. His lips stretch into that signature Sylus smirk when he catches you staring, nothing short of heart stoppingly arrogant.

He’s so unbelievably handsome, your cunt quivering again just at the sight of him. Wincing at the feeling of his cock inside you stirring back to life at your involuntary throbbing, you panic and tap furiously on his thigh. 

“Sylus, put me down.” 

Sylus chuckles, mischief coloring his scarlet eyes, “What, no ‘please’?”

You whine, not able to withstand the feeling of him stirring back to life in your absolutely spent core. Yet you can feel yourself fluttering in anticipation. And you know he can feel it too. 

You silently curse your traitorous body.

“Please.”

He laughs warmly and obliges. His strong hands grip the underside of your thighs, lifting you off of him. You cry out at the feeling, your cunt clenching at nothing, seeking him once more. Sylus inhales sharply, craving your tight warmth again. But he holds you gently against his chest, shifting so that his erection rests between his abdomen and your thigh, with you sitting sideways on his lap. 

You nuzzle your head into his chest, and Sylus’s lips come down to the top of your head, breathing in your scent and ghosting kisses into your hair. Your hands reach up to weave into his silver tresses, playing with his soft locks and delicately massaging his scalp. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, voice muffled against his skin.

When Sylus doesn’t respond, you pull away from him and look up at him expectantly. He appears to be lost in the feeling of your fingers. 

“You never said please, you could at least say thank you,” you tease, poking his soft cheek with your finger. 

Sylus looks down at you, amused danger flickering in the deep orbs of crimson. His hand leaves your thigh, slowly and tortuously crawling up your skin until he cups your face. You shiver, suddenly feel like you’re staring into the face of danger. 

“Hmm, isn’t it customary to say thank you after eating?” 

You crinkle your brows in confusion at his cryptic words, waiting for him to elaborate further. Sylus’s smug grin widens, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, basking in the excited fear brimming in your bleary eyes. 

“I’ve yet to finish my meal, little dove.” 

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

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[faiszt]

⠀⠀⭑⠀𝆬⠀⠀CLOSE ENOUGH:⠀✴⠀ r. cameron.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ minors do not interact.

PAIRING:⠀s2!rafe x stalker!reader.

†⠀⠀LISTEN TO:⠀close enough by ava morse.

wordcount: 3.7k⠀⠀|⠀⠀CONTAINS: ⠀ smut content. violent behavior. obsessive behavior. hard / strong language. drug mentions. kidnapping. face sitting. rough sex. slightly size kink. p in v. unprotected sex. dirty talk. face fucking & tits sucking.⠀ minors who interact with this will be blocked.

꒰ SILLY NOTES:⠀hi, sweets! i still don’t have a masterlist and stuff, i know, but i just really needed to write this. also, this is my first time writing a smut in my life, so... forgive me for any mistakes, i swear i'm trying and i’d be so happy if you could tell me what you think of it.⠀⠀⠀⠀(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) 💬 ♡

there were two perfect words to describe you from what rafe thought: kind and sweet. so sweet, the kind that made him stop and think ‘what hole did you crawl out of?’ well, in a honest answer, the hole you crawled out of was hell. this isn't a silly little joke, it's reality, your sweetness was the perfect counterpart to the kind of obsessive and insane devil you've become since the day you laid eyes on him.

it took rafe longer to figure this out than you had anticipated before starting this freak game between you.

if he needed someone lovely, you'd be her. if he needed someone gentle, you'd be her. but, if he needs someone as crazy and fucked up as he is? his lucky day, you were all of that without even having to hide it with cute clothes and a damsel in distress demeanor.

150 days that you knew him, 150 photos of him kept in the last drawer of your dresser, right under your panties like a stupid plan not very calculated, but existing. a photo a day that you wisely chose every time you followed him around like an abandoned puppy, finding out things about him and his life was part of the shameless fun.

and each time he accidentally noticed you, you acted as he expected you to act. a confused expression and a gentle smile, pretending you were doing anything that a weirdo would, acting like it was purely fate putting you in the same place as him. what kind of shitty fate was this? god could only be punishing you for putting you in each other's lives.

but, no siege was impossible to close, and eventually, the pieces fell right into place in his mind. too late, he was the little mouse that bit the cheese in the mousetrap.

not that his insanity had reached its limit—you were never any different from that—it was just something you wanted to do and felt he needed, given how much stress you'd watched him go through lately. it wasn't wrong, was it? it was just love, no matter how strange, violent, and intense.

just a little help, you wouldn't hurt him... you'd just show that you can take care of him as well as anyone else since no one would take care of him if not you. plus, in the meantime, he could taste his own medicine with someone just like him, or worse.

“what the...” his eyes opened with difficulty, a throbbing pain in his head and his body limp, tingling, almost struggling to move. a dimly lit room, definitely not his room, unless he had been drugged enough to forget how he got there—which was what it looked like. “that’s all i needed now.” rafe thought he was talking to himself.

until he notices you there, sitting in front of your desk, swinging your feet with only one side of the earphone in your left ear, scribbling something. how cute, he thought, not thinking really much about it and when he did, well, he knew he was so fucked.

hands tied to the headboard, he wouldn't even question how you managed to drag him there, but there he was, gagged on a girl's bed. he could kick you if you came near, if it weren't for the clear fact that you both knew he wouldn't do it, first 'cause he wasn't afraid of you, second 'cause he wanted to know how far you'd go.

honestly, if you didn't go all the way, he'd make you go all the way with him since you were the one who brought him here, you had to do something about it now.

“are you plannin’ to make me die here or just playin’ some insane weirdo game, princess?” he shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position—even though nothing felt comfortable when his wrists were gagged. he was just trying to get your attention. was it strange that he was finding this too interesting and appealing to simply want to run away?

you turned in your chair, taking the earphone out as you left your pencil on the table. his eyebrows slowly rose when he noticed you was you, the acting was good, he had to admit, not every girl who was into him would simply gag him in her bed like he was her own doll. it was confusing, arousing, a lot of things his mind was trying to think about.

“you looked stressed, i just wanted to make you relax.” you mumbled with a sweet, albeit fake, smile, still swinging your feet in the air. so handsome, you thought, watching him with his disheveled hair and looking so vulnerable to you. “are you relaxed, rafe? or you need me to help you again?” 'cause there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't do for him at this point.

your smile only made him let out a nasal laugh, looking away for a brief moment as he stared at the ceiling. “nice way to relax someone, huh?” he scoffed. “but, since you’re offering... i think i’d be more relaxed if you let my wrists go from that rope.” he tried to suggest, blue eyes looking at you again with a disguised pleading, as if he could actually convince you like that.

“you look better this way.” you grumbled, standing up and walking over to sit on the edge of your bed, his knee lightly brushing against you for a moment. “but, if you wanna leave, i’m not really stopping you. just say the word and we both pretend it never happened.”

“but, i don’t wanna pretend it didn't happen... and i don’t wanna leave either.” he wouldn't say it out loud, but secretly he thought you were kinda wimp. what? you just do all of it and brought him here to... well, nothing? no, no, he knew you could do better than that. “i want you to do what you wanna do, or have you bitten off more than you can chew? don’t tell me you’re that stupid, princess.”

for a man gagged in your bed, he sounded very confident and intimidating in every word. he wanted you to do it so badly, whatever the fuck you had in mind, 'cause it was turning him on to see you do this to him. “come on, you know you didn’t gagged me in your bed to let me leave.”

and, as expected, what he said had exactly the effect he wanted. in less than a minute, your legs were on either side of his hips, straddling him as he looked up at you with a smug little smirk, not caring about the darkness in your eyes. you looked hot like that, he didn't really care about the implications of fucking you without using his hands.

“you talk too much, cameron.”

“then, you should shut my mouth.”

the implication of his words had almost immediate consequences. you bent over him, hands on both sides of his head, pinning him even further into the mattress as you pressed your lips hard against his. there wasn't one percent of delicacy in that messy kiss, just hunger and desire and rafe noticed it, feeling his blood rush to his lower half.

he moaned softly against your lips as he returned the not-so-loving affection, letting your tongue invade his mouth as if he was completely at your mercy—and he, actually, was. not that rafe had ever agreed to be on the bottom very often, but if it ended with you riding him, then it was for a good cause.

when you had the urge to separate your lips from his, it was like being woken up from a trance, he didn't say anything and if his wrists weren't gagged, his hands would be saying something for him. he ran his tongue over his reddened lips, slightly swollen from the inner contact, as if he wanted to know if the remnants of your taste were still there.

“y’know,” rafe started talking after a few seconds, noticing how breathless you looked from just one kiss. it was kinda cute, he'd give you credit for that. “if i wasn’t gagged here, you’d already be face down in that pillow.” he said with such conviction that you had to roll your eyes, thrusting your hips down only to see his facade tremble at the small contact over your clothes.

“yeah, yeah, but you’re gagged and i’m on top.” you gave him a mocking smile, gently patting his cheek before grabbing his chin, making him look straight into your eyes. “and that’s a lose-lose, for you, not for me.”

“lose-lose? i don’t see it that way, sweetheart,” his blue eyes dropped downwards, indirectly giving you the message that it wasn't bad for him when you were the one straddling him in your bed on any given day. “i’m just wonderin’ when you’re actually gonna act beyond these boring little kisses and put that pussy to sit on somethin’.”

“you’re talking too much again, cameron.” you shook your head in disapproval, sighing deeply as you pretended to think about what you were going to do to him. “but, since you want me to do something and i want you to shut up...”

you let the words hang in the air as you got off his lap, standing in the corner taking off your shorts and panties quickly, but to rafe it looked more like you were doing it in slow motion. every second counted and he was already missing your weight against his lap.

kinda ironic... that he was so comfortable being gagged in the bed of a girl he must have seen less than five times in his life. but, rafe never thought straight and he wouldn't start doing that now. it was even pleasurable for him to know that you were obsessed with him to that point. you might have been in physical control, but you both knew better than that.

despite the tension, you were on top of him again. knees on the mattress, your hands holding onto the headboard, the best way to shut him up and he wasn't really complaining about it, in fact, this was exactly what he wanted from the moment he thought of the possibility. a devious smile formed on his lips, his tongue moistening them for a brief moment as you graced him with that sight. shit, he wanted to touch you so badly, but he'd have to do it only with his tongue for now.

his tongue slowly passed through your wet folds like a tease of power, you might be on top, but he had his share of power too and he'd make sure to remind you of that. “you taste so good, princess...” he smirked against your cunt, giving it a brief suck before running his tongue over it again, only to see your expression falter and a shiver run through your body. “like a fuckin’ lollipop, so sweet.”

you placed more of your weight on his face, closing your eyes gently as you rubbed your clit against the tip of his nose, feeling his tongue suck hungrily between your wet folds. “mmhm...” you allowed yourself to let out a moan, looking down as your hips rocked over his face, his blue eyes fixed on you, attentively wanting to see you break under the touch of his tongue. he didn't want to miss a single detail of it.

rafe's pants were tightening around his crotch, his thoughts were hazy and he could only think of one thing: you and the dirty little noises that escaped your throat. he wanted to hear each of those and he wanted to be the reason for them. no one else, just him and he hoped you had used your weird obsessive behavior to understand that he was possessive as hell.

but, you were going far, he could feel it, pressing yourself harder and harder against his face and suddenly, the sound of the rope coming loose. your eyes opened in confusion, still numb from the brief pleasure he gave you, only for you to notice his hands loose from the rope, his wrists not even red. “what...? how?” you whispered, looking between his wrists and his face between your legs.

then, he pushed you back, not too hard, just enough to make you fall back onto the mattress and get off of him. “y’know... you’re bad at tying ropes, really bad,” he grumbled, sitting down on the bed before using one of his hands to pull you closer, climbing on top of you with an even more sinister smirk than before. “but, that’s good, it means i can touch that pretty little body of yours now.”

rafe didn't want to wait for you to have any reaction to that, he already waited for too long pretending to really be gagged in your bed, he didn't give a damn if he should've waited a little longer, he got what he wanted.

he pinned you against him and the mattress, crashing his lips against yours as he kissed you violently, as if he was trying to mark you or, maybe, he just really wanted to mark you. his tongue didn't ask for entry, it just invaded your mouth, making you feel your own taste, exactly as he wanted.

“did you like to taste your own sweetness, baby?” he whispered against your lips, sucking your bottom lip before kissing you again. “guess i have to take care of you now, don’t i? you’ve been following me around like a good puppy... i think you deserve a reward.” he pulled away from your face a little, only for his hands to go towards your shirt, pulling it over your head.

on a normal day, he'd take more of his time with you, but not today. today he was a little too eager for this, today you wouldn't go unnoticed by him.

“so sweet...” his fingers caressed your belly before he moved his lips down your neck, making sure to press wet kisses against it before moving down a little further and lightly biting your collarbone. you heard the sound of one of his hands going down to his pants, undoing his belt without any difficulty, as if he had done it many times before, and he did.

pants and boxers on the floor, he was hovering over you with an expression of hunger and desire, one of his fingers running over your cunt, he wanted to feel with his fingers how wet and ready for him you were. he patted your thigh, a warning for you to open it wider for him. you looked so pretty like that that he even felt like sucking you again. but, no, this time he wanted to make you feel everything.

rafe bent over you again, lips against yours, a cheap deception only for him to thrust his fully hard cock inside you. you opened your legs wider in shock, but you didn't push him away, you just moaned painfully against the sudden impact and he liked it, he really liked the way you lost your composure when he had no mercy on your tight little pussy.

no niceties or "just the tip", you were a weirdo who stalked him and he'd give you exactly what you wanted when you drugged him and took him to your bed. the kind of fuck that would leave you sore for days, and when you forgot about the pain, then he'd fuck you again... and again... and again.

he lifted your body a little, holding your legs as he slammed relentlessly inside your tight cunt, his cock was having trouble getting all the way inside you, but he didn't really care, he'd make it fit. “what happened to all that attitude, pretty girl? where did that "lose-lose" go?” he went deeper, making you sink into the mattress as you tried to contain the loud moans that wanted to escape your mouth.

“no, no holdin’ back your little noises, i wanna hear ‘em all.” he roared, his hand letting go of one of your legs as he held your chin firmly. “and eyes on me. if you close them or hold back your moans, i’ll stop and you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

you couldn't say a single word, you just nodded, agreeing with what he was saying, even though you didn't know how long you could keep your eyes open. “good girl.” he released your chin, his hand trailing down your neck and collarbone until he reached your bra.

just fucking you could be enough, but it wasn't, not for a greedy man like him. he wanted more and your tits looked so inviting to his eyes, he wanted everything he could get of you. everyone knew, if he wanted it, he could get it. so, he didn't ask, he just pulled one of your tits out of the bra. his fingers pinching your swollen nipple and circling it as he stared at you, wondering if this would make you go further over the edge or not.

him being too big for you was already something, but rafe knew perfectly where to push your buttons and he'd make you tremble without needing much, he wanted to break you so you'd know better before you thought you could leave him in a position like that. your legs locked around his waist, just so he could go balls deep, feeling you squeezing him tighter and tighter as your tight walls clenched in pleasure.

“mmgmh, rafe, fuck...” you whimpered, biting your bottom lip hard as you looked down to see his rhythm. thrusts so rough that the bed began to creak and he had no intention of being discreet about how good and hard he was fucking that sweet pussy of yours. “rafe... i need to... i need to come...”

a mocking laugh came out of him as he slowly thrust inside you again, really much slower than before, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. “yeah, princess? you wanna come that fast? this pretty little cunt can’t handle such a big cock, can it?” he continued with the slow thrusts, like a tease that he was really enjoying doing.

“but, it’s okay... i said i’d take care of you.” rafe whispered, leaning over you again, his tongue flicking over your nipple that he had been pinching moments before. “then, come for me, princess, come while i suck your tit.”

his thrusts gradually increased again, making you see stars as he sucked on your nipple hungrily, his eyes flicking up to see your expression of pleasure. your loud moans and whimpers were music to his ears, like fuel that only motivated him to go deeper.

and when you got to the edge, by god, you squeezed him so hard and moaned like you were in heaven; and he enjoyed every second of it, pressing himself against you as he felt your legs tremble for him. “you did so well for me...” he licked your nipple once more before moving kisses up to your neck. “but, we still have one thing before we finish... and you’re gonna be a good girl and do it.”

“what? what’s left?” you mumbled, tired and breathless, your legs still shaking as he grabbed your body and made you sit on the bed. not understanding what he meant when you noticed him standing up, right next to you.

“come here ’n open your mouth, i’ll show you.” it wasn't a request, it almost sounded like an order, if you didn't do it he’d make you do it anyway. “open wide.” he said again as you sat on the edge of the bed, right in front of him. one of his hands gripped the back of your head, while the other gripped his still hardened length, positioning it in front of your lips.

your eyes widened a little, but you looked up to meet rafe's gaze and he looked very confident about what he was doing. “no hands, i just need your little mouth, pretty girl.” he definitely wasn't expecting you to nod, he just shoved his cock into your mouth and waited for you to do what he wanted. “mmh, yeah, just like that...” he smirked, satisfied with your work, moving his hips back and forth, not caring if you could handle everything he put inside that sweet mouth.

he, in turn, didn't need much either, you had already given enough of a show for him to feel his balls full, he just needed a little more, your lips around his cock would solve the problem. “that got you so far, didn’t it? this stalker thing, you’re exactly where you wanna be, aren’t you? with my cock hitting your throat, so pretty.” he moaned, using his dirty words to motivate you to swallow him all the way down.

his moans started to become more frequent, he stopped moving his hips, using your head as if you were a doll, back and forth quickly, choking you, he was slowly reaching his limit and the sight really helped with that.

rafe knew he wouldn't last longer than that, he was exhausted, panting, letting out long gasps every time he sank the tip of his cock into your throat. he needed to come. so, he did it. “stay there... that’s it... stop.” he gasped once more, thrusting himself deep into the wet heat of your mouth, his length twitching as he began to spurt hot streams into the back of your throat. “fuck... fuck... mhmm.”

he didn't move his head, not until he was one hundred percent satisfied, not until you had swallowed every little drop of him.

and when it was over, you were a complete mess, falling back on your bed, dealing with the intense aftermath of what rafe gave you. he joined you at your side, as breathless as you were, not regretting a single microsecond of what had happened between you. “next time you wanna do this, remember to tie me tightly to the headboard, princess,” he suggested, lying on his back to face the ceiling like you. “just call me and i’ll bring the rope.”

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox, you'll be welcome. ꒰ ˶> ˕ <˶ ꒱ ♡

©⠀𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐙𝐓, 2025.⠀don't use my work without my consent.

[siriuslylantsov]

canine tendencies

pairing: sirius black x reader

description: in which, you put charms in sirius' hair and confront certain traits of his.

tags: fluff! fem!reader, mmm pining, cuddling, totally platonic activities going on here, r is muggle-born hence the vet and dog anatomy knowledge, sirius is a puppy agenda, pretty women from the 70s mentioned (dont pay much attention to it), flirting.

a/n: staying true to my username with more sirius black. wanna play with his hair for days tbh. happy reading!

wc: 1.7k

“you don't know when to give up, do you?”

you raise your chin indignantly, “i'm stubborn.”

sirius fixes you with a withering glare, it doesn't pack much of a punch but you can tell he's stalling. he finally relents with a long sigh, ever the dramatic. you squeal, walking over to his bed with a little pouch that jingled as you moved. you nudge at his shoulders to lean against the headboard and set yourself down beside him. he grumbles, muttering something along the lines of waste of time and how your neck is gonna hurt. you bite back a smile at his cause for concern: you. 

“complain all you want, but you know this is gonna look good,” you muse, with an air of smugness. “you’ll be singing my praises.”

he lets his head hang to the side, looking at you, up those pretty eyelashes of his. his eyes are indifferent, yet they crinkle at the corners, trying to not prove you right. pools of grey and blue, you could drown in them. 

your elbow is wedged between a pillow and the headboard, propping you up, knees curled, poking into his thigh. his legs are sprawled out in an obnoxious man spread, effectively making you move closer so you don't fall off the bed–that's small enough regardless of the space he's taking up. 

he's avoided you all day since you proposed the idea at breakfast: putting charms in his hair. what's strange is that you’ve done his hair plenty of times before sans protest. you ponder it quietly, simultaneously willing him to concede with squinted eyes, as he deadpans you.

if he could, he would've told you that he’s afraid to be alone with you. not that he hasn't been before, he has and he's been this close to you too (he constantly is). but something is different now, something about your hands in his hair that he can’t deal with. especially recently, you've taken to scratching behind his ear and it drives him a little crazy. he won't stop you though, on account of it feeling so good. usually, you're around the others so he can shift his focus elsewhere rather than think about how softly your fingers pad over his scalp, but now you’re alone and he's cursing lily for dragging his friends to some stupid baking endeavour that he stealthily got out of. 

you watch as annoyance passes over his features (directed to lily but you don't know that) and it instantly worries you. maybe he was serious about not wanting this, were you pushing him?

“sirius, if you really don't want me to do this,” you start, a nervous edge to your fast rush of words, “please tell me. i don't want to force you into doing anything-”

“hey,” he stops you with a hand over your arm and a small reassuring smile. “i'm sorry, i do. i just think you’re hot when you're irritated.”

“you must think i'm farah fawcett all the time then,” you mutter, rooting around in your pouch for the gold cuffs you thought would suit him. “and i'm not irritated, i have a surprising amount of patience for you,” you correct, inspecting the cuffs in your palm.

sirius sits up a bit to peer at them, chewing his lip in thought. “mmm not her. barbara carrera maybe,” he adds, looking back at you, his resistance fading away.

your eyebrows shoot up slightly, in mild shock. “she's pretty,” you remark to his comparison and the seemingly honest delivery.

“yeah,” he says, incredibly earnest, “so are you.”

curious and curiouser. “you think flirting with me is gonna get you out of this?”

“i don't know, is it working?”

“nope,” you say curtly, bring your hand back up to his face, this time with a few charms as well. “pick.”

he does, and sets them in your other hand held out. you begin parting his hair for the braids, you settle for placing them under the top of his hair, since his layers are short they'll peek through nicely. you tie a sloppy half bun to the unused portion of his hair so it's out of the way and section out a piece to braid. 

sirius dutifully holds the gold adornments in his hand as you work, suddenly quiet. he always gets like this, you've noticed. all quip remarks are silenced when your hands are in his hair. you make note to tease him about it later but for now you're content to stay quiet. 

he's humming something quietly, a tune you're unfamiliar with, it's ok he’ll tell you later. it fills the silence nicely. you pick the first charm, looping it into a strand of hair and continuing the braid to secure it. his hair is unbelievably soft, it's probably why you like touching it so much. you both know it gets greasier faster because of your constant contact but sirius makes no move to stop you, ever, simply muttering a spell to revive it. 

it goes on like this for about ten minutes, mostly because the charms were a bit more difficult to work with than you thought and also because you were extremely wary of trying not to tangle his hair. he stares at you diligently out of his periphery and you try not to meet his gaze. 

when you're done you lift the handheld mirror to his face. fuck, he looks beautiful. you have to look away, allowing him to assess everything on his own. 

he shoots you a blinding grin, looking exceedingly pleased with how it turned out, “thanks, dove!”

“you’re welcome,” you respond. “it looks good, right?”

he nods, looking into the mirror again. “really good. you did an amazing job.”

your heart flutters at the praise but you don't let it show, accepting his words with a smug smile. it doesn't last long though as he jumps you with a hug, winding you. arms wrapped around your middle, his head rests on your chest, just below your chin, squeezing you in appreciation. you wrap your arms around him in tandem and lean back against the headboard and the pillows, practically pulling half of him on top of you.

it's rough and tumble for a moment before he settles with a low hum, arms still circled around your torso. he knows they’ll go numb the longer he stays like this but he doesn't care. 

you trail one hand into his hair instinctively, like it's second nature. your nails lightly graze over that spot behind his ear and he’s done for. when you begin scratching, he melts, like truly melts against your body, letting out a long, pleased sigh. he makes note to kick himself later for acting like this. beneath his cheek, he feels you shake. are you laughing?

he lifts his head, a little incredulous. “what?”

you chuckle, seeing how he blinks away the blissful air to his expression. “nothing, it’s just-”

he looks at you expectantly as you contemplate your words.

you let out an amused snort before speaking again, “i don't know if it's, like, a subconscious response to your animagus form but dogs really like being scratched behind their ears.”

he gapes at you, affronted. “are you calling me a dog?”

“you are, padfoot.”

he whines petulantly before dropping back to your chest. he noses at your sternum, his own wordless way of getting you to continue. so you do. 

“dogs have a very concentrated area of nerve endings here,” you explain quietly, scratching his scalp again, just behind his ear. “when stimulated, it causes the brain to release endorphins, making them feel relaxed.”

he hums in thought though it sounds more pleased and it scarcely proves your point. 

“how’d you know that?” he asks, voice muffled by your shirt.

“my friend had to take her cat to the vet and i read one of those pet magazines to pass the time,” you murmur, your voice still quiet as you begin to feel sirius growing heavier over you.

“y’so smart,” he slurs, words trailing off in the beginning of sleep.

“don't fall asleep,” you whisper, though you make no effort to wake him up.

he mumbles something incoherent, nuzzling further into your neck but giving you a little grace by shuffling off of your body. one leg is still tangled with yours and his arms are still tightly wrapped around you but at least he's not crushing you. 

“tell me more,” he requests, words trailing up at the end in question.

you think for a moment, reaching to the depths of your brain to retrieve the dog facts you read about that day, perking up when you do.

“hmmm dogs have incredibly sensitive noses. they have up to, like, 300 million scent receptors, where humans have about 5 million and the part of their brain that processes smells is 40 times larger than ours,” you mumble, tapping a light finger to the tip of his nose. 

“cool,” he exclaims, though it's anything but. his eyes slowly flutter shut as you coil a piece of his hair, sealing your fate for the rest of the evening. that is until, much to sirius’ dismay, his roommates come bursting in.

flour scattered over their clothes and hair alike, they’re boisterous as they enter, chatting something along the lines of baking is actually kinda fun. he groans against your body, sleep stretching far and wide from his grasp. you stifle a laugh as he glares at them annoyedly. they pay no attention to the boy, instead making plans on playing quidditch. to this, he brightens. jumping from the bed at a speed you can't quite justify, not being overly fond of the sport yourself. you were more inclined to flying for fun, rather than competition. 

he glances back at you, tentatively, asking for your permission almost. you shrug indifferently, you were going to make your way down to the field anyway. he grins and leans down, pressing a quick firm kiss to your cheek before rushing after the dwindling voices down the stairs, his own broom in tow. 

you bite your lip to push down the giggle that bubbles up in your throat, maybe there are some innate canine tendencies.

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 13

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension

The morning sun spilled through the sheer curtains, my head was still heavy from last night, and my body feeling sheer exhaustion of what had happened. I had barely slept, replaying the scene at the restaurant over and over in my mind. The embarrassment, the sting of Matt’s words, the way I had to walk away while holding back tears.

A soft knock at my door made me wake that bit more. "Hey, you awake?" I hear Nick’s voice from through the door. 

I remembered I locked it once Matt left last night so I pulled myself from my bed and unlocked the door letting Nick to come in. I turned and walked back to my bed, sitting up against the headboard, pulling the covers around me. Nick closed the door behind him before standing at the end of the bed. "Alright, spill. What the hell happened last night? You left, and then Matt stormed in looking like he just saw a ghost."

I exhaled, rubbing my temples before looking at him. "Your mom asked Nate if he was seeing anyone, and he said no, which was fine, right? But Matt decided to make it seem like that was some kind of rejection for me, like I was meant to be upset about it. Then, out of nowhere, he brings up to your mom and dad that Nate and I went on a ‘date’, which you know yourself wasn’t even a date, so then Nate tried to clarify that we were just friends, but Matt just kept pushing it. Then he said that I was a quick fuck and then friend zoned. Right in front of your parents." I swallowed, feeling the embarrassment all over again. 

Nick’s eyes widened slightly, but his expression darkened. "What the fuck?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Yeah and I’m so embarrassed if your parents heard that last part because first of all, I had just met them, and second of all, it’s just not even true. It made me look bad, it made Nate uncomfortable, and Matt acted like he had some right to embarrass me like that."

Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No I get why you’re upset like he was way out of line. But listen, when Chris and I came back in, our parents said you were lovely and that they hoped you felt better soon. I’m telling you they didn’t hear that part."

I let out a slow breath of relief. "Really?"

"Really" Nick nodded. "They just thought you weren’t feeling well and needed to leave early."

I sank back into my pillows, finally feeling like I could breathe a little easier. "Good. Because I swear, I was ready to dig a hole and disappear forever."

Nick laughed. "Nah, no disappearing allowed. But are you gonna talk to Matt about it?"

I frowned, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "We did last night kinda, but I’m still so angry. And the worst part is, I don’t even know why he acted like that. It was like he wanted to embarrass me."

Nick shrugged. "Matt’s an idiot. He says dumb shit, but he also knows when he’s messed up. I guarantee you, he feels like shit about it right now."

"Good" I muttered, still unwilling to entertain the idea of forgiving him just yet.

Nick sighed again but didn’t push it further. "Alright, well, the four of us are going out with my parents for the day. You coming?"

I shook my head. "I think I’m just gonna stay back here today, I just want things to die down."

"Thats cool." He stood up, stretching. "Try not to overthink it too much, alright?"

I gave a half smile. "Easier said than done."

As Nick left the room, I rolled onto my side, staring out the window at the pool below. I knew I wouldn’t be able to just brush this off, but at least, for now, I could breathe a little easier knowing that Nick’s parents didn’t hear Matt’s words. Still, the anger remained, simmering just beneath the surface. Eventually, I decided I needed some air, some sun, some quiet, and a break from all the tension.

I slipped out of bed and grabbed my swimsuit, opting for a tiny bikini that I knew would be perfect for lounging by the pool. The straps sat snug against my skin, the warm morning air already filtering through the open balcony doors as I pulled my hair up out of my face. After tossing on a loose cover up, I slid into my sliders and grabbed a towel before heading downstairs.

As I reached the foyer, the others were gathered, chatting and getting ready to head out for the day. The energy in the room was light, filled with laughter and the occasional clatter of sunglasses being thrown into bags. As soon as they spotted me, they greeted me, well everyone except Matt, who didn’t even glance in my direction.

Chris was the first to speak. “You coming with us?” His tone was casual, but his eyes scanned my face like he was checking in.

I shook my head, adjusting my towel over my arm. “Nah, I think I’m going to take it easy today. Just chill by the pool and relax.”

Nate nodded approvingly. “Honestly? Probably the smarter move.”

Chris shot me a small smile. “Enjoy the sun. We’ll be back later.”

I returned the smile, forcing the tension from last night out of my mind. “You guys have fun.”

With that, they all filed out the front door, their voices fading as they disappeared down the steps. The villa was suddenly silent, the only sound being the faint rustling of palm trees outside.

I exhaled slowly before grabbing an ice tea from the fridge and making my way out to the pool, letting the warm sun wrap around me as I laid my towel down on one of the lounge chairs. Finally, peace and quiet.

I stretched out on the lounge chair, letting the sun soak into my skin as I sipped on the cold drink. I had left the villa door open, wanting to hear when everyone got back, but after a while, another sound caught my attention. 

A knock.

Frowning, I sat up, adjusting my bikini top before grabbing my cover up and slipping it over my hips. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and the guys wouldn’t have knocked, they had keys.

As I rushed barefoot across the cold tile floor, I hesitated for a second before pulling the door open. 

A mailman stood there, holding a large box. He barely glanced up before handing it over. “Delivery for Fresh Love.”

I furrowed my brows but took the package, feeling the weight of it in my arms. “Oh, thanks.”

With a nod, he turned and walked back down the driveway. I shut the door with my foot and carried the box to the kitchen counter, setting it down with a small thud.  I smirked, realizing this must be the personalized samples Chris had mentioned, the ones he ordered for all of us.  I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture of the box before opening up my messages with Chris.

Me: Personalised samples just got delivered.

A few seconds later, the typing bubbles appeared.

Chris: Sick! You check ‘em out yet?

I glanced at the box, debating if I should wait for him or just open it now.

Me: Not yet. Was gonna let you do the honours.

Chris: Okay cool. We can do a shoot with them at sunset later.

I bring the box up to Chris’ room and set it on the bed so he can see everything when we get back in. If we’re doing a shoot I want to look extra radiant and glowy, and that won’t happen from standing inside the villa. I grabbed one of the body oils in my room before making my way back out to the pool. I poured a little into my palm, rubbing it over my legs as I stretched back out on the lounge chair.

Matt’s POV

We were halfway through the guided tour when Chris suddenly checked his phone and said, “Oh, the personalized samples came in. Y/n just texted me.”

Hearing her name wasn’t helpful. Not when I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind since last night, and god how she looked in that bikini earlier didn't help. I kept my eyes straight ahead, pretending I didn’t care, but my mom didn’t let it slide. “Oh, Y/n is such a lovely girl” she said with a warm smile, then turned to me. “Is she feeling better now, sweetheart?”

Before I could even begin to answer, Nick cut in smoothly. “Yeah, she’s fine. Just needed a bit of sleep.” His tone was light, brushing off the question like it wasn’t worth pressing. He knew me well enough to know that I didn’t want to talk about it, especially not here, not in front of everyone.

I kept my mouth shut and just nodded in agreement, though the truth was, I felt far from fine. Guilt sat heavy in my chest, chipping away at me. Last night, I had let my emotions get the best of me. I let jealousy, because let’s be honest, that’s exactly what it was, take control, and I lashed out in the worst way possible. I had said something cruel, something I couldn’t take back. And knowing Y/n, she wasn’t the type to just let it roll off her shoulders. She put up walls, and I had given her every reason to keep me on the other side of them.

The more I thought about it, the worse it got. I had no right to be mad at her, no right to act like what she did or didn’t do with Nate, or anyone else for that matter, was any of my business. But that hadn’t stopped me from taking a low blow, from making her feel small in front of people who barely even knew her. If she had done that to me, I’d be furious. So what did that say about me?

I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair as I barely registered the tour guide’s voice. My mind was somewhere else entirely.

I had to make this right.

I knew I had a way to make it up to her, it was something I should've done ages ago. And now, I could only hope it wasn’t too late for her to forgive me.

Y/n’s POV

I was sitting outside on the patio, a plate of food in my lap as I watched the sun dip below the horizon. The sky was painted in soft shades of pink and orange, the kind of sunset that made everything feel a little quieter, a little more peaceful. It was one of those moments I wished I could freeze in time, just me, the sunset, and the distant sound of waves hitting onto the shore.

But then, the front door swung open, breaking the stillness.

The familiar sounds of shuffling feet and tired voices filled the villa as the guys returned. I set my plate aside and stood up, making my way inside to greet them.

“Hey” I said, leaning against the kitchen counter as they walked in.

They all looked exhausted, Chris, Nate, Matt, and Nick, their faces slightly sunburnt, their hair tousled from the slight breeze and even though they didn’t say much at first, their body language said it all.

Chris let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took his cap off. “Long day,” he muttered. “We were out in the sun for way too long, and I think it’s catching up to everyone.”

Nate groaned in agreement, tossing his sunglasses onto the counter. “I need, like, ten hours of sleep.”

Matt didn’t say much, just nodded, his jaw tight. He looked at me for half a second before glancing away, like he was trying to avoid something, most likely me. I ignored the sting in my chest and forced a small smile.

“Yeah, we’re all wiped” Nick added, stretching his arms above his head. “Think we’ll just stay in tonight, order some takeout, crash early.”

“That’s fine with me” I said, realizing I was more drained than I thought. Between being in the sun all day and everything that happened last night, I could use a quiet night too. “I left that box in your room” I say turning to Chris.

“Cool I’ll have a look now, we can take pictures tomorrow evening instead, when everyones a bit more awake”

And with that, Chris, Nate, and Matt didn’t waste any time disappearing into their rooms, clearly eager to knock out for a bit.

Nick lingered behind, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m gonna shower first, but after that, I’ll come to your room? We can just chill for a bit, a movie maybe?.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

I walk up to my room, kicking the door shut behind me as I switch on the TV. The smart TV mounted on the wall was a lifesaver, especially on nights like this when there wasn’t much going on. I sink onto the bed, remote in hand, sifting through Netflix, too see if theres anything both Nick and I would like. The knock on the door wasn’t enough to pull my attention from the screen since I assume it’s Nick, I don’t even think twice before calling out, “Come in.”

But it’s not Nick.

It’s Matt.

He stands there in the doorway, looking uncertain, a silver metallic gift bag dangling from his fingers. Looking like the same one I spotted in his room next to my ‘Thank You’ card. For a moment, neither of us speak. We just stare at each other, the weight of unspoken words thick in the space between us.

My tone is blunt when I finally ask, “Are you alright?”

Matt doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts the bag slightly, as if offering it to me. His expression is unreadable, something between nervousness and determination.

“What is it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Just look in it” he says quietly.

I hesitate for a second before reaching out, taking the metallic bag from his grasp. Peeling back the layers of tissue paper inside, my breath catches in my throat.

It’s my locket.

The delicate chain pools in my palm, the pendant glinting from the sunset shining in my balcony window. My fingers tighten around it as I snap my gaze back up to Matt, my heart pounding.

“Where did you get this?” I demand, my voice barely above a whisper.

a/n : most of this is a bit of a filler soz

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[cherryobx]

Today

a/n: part 2 of this fic, can be read on its own!

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: the morning after getting drunk and trying to kiss your best friend the previous night

warnings: language, one sexual innuendo i think, mentions of getting drunk, being hangover and nausea (but no detailed descriptions)

wc: 1.5k

The sun shines directly into your eyes through the windows of your bedroom and forces you awake. It’s almost painful. You get up to pull down the blinds to make the room dark and being in there bearable. 

You fall back into bed and bury your face in the numerous pillows propped up against the headboard, regretting drinking last night. The headache and nausea are bad but you’ve definitely experienced worse. You’ll live.

You reach for your phone which you usually place on the nightstand for the night, but it isn’t there. Lifting your head from the pillows you squint in confusion. There’s a water bottle, an Advil pill and a piece of paper there instead.

Sitting up, you grab the note first. Rafe’s neat handwriting fills the sticky note.

Had to go home for a sec. I’ll come by later. Make that hangover your bitch. - R

Right, he stayed the night. You smile at that and place it back down on the nightstand before popping the Advil into your mouth and downing almost the entire bottle of water in one go.

Memories from the previous night slowly start flooding in. Best friend’s birthday party. Too much alcohol. Hot tub. Phone ruined by said hot tub. Rafe taking you home. Begging Rafe to kiss you.

Oh my God. You asked your best friend to kiss you while drunk. That is so embarrassing. Even though it’s exactly what you’ve wanted for a while now. You weren’t planning on spilling your feelings to him while drunk like this. How can you look him in the eye when he comes by later knowing that you tried to pursue him romantically last night?

The hangover is now battling with your nerves and it’s not a very good combination. In an attempt to feel like a human again, you get up from bed, brush your teeth, fix your hair as much as possible and remove the makeup from last night and finally change into something other than your pyjamas.

Even those little mundane tasks are a bit difficult as your head spun and pounded simultaneously. You lay back in your bed to catch your breath but drift off instead.

Rafe keeps his word and comes over sometime in the afternoon, after a trip to the nearest technology store and buying you a new phone just like he had promised.

“Hey.” You feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently to wake you up from your slumber.

“Oh, hey.” You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes.

Rafe is sitting on the edge of your bed and it’s giving you flashbacks from last night when you two were sitting just like this. But this time the air is different. There’s something unspoken between you two.

He gives you a once over before shoving a small box into your hands. Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap and see a brand new phone in them. It’s the newer model of your previous one and you know for a fact it’s expensive.

“You didn’t.” Disbelief and shock are evident in your tone of voice. 

“I told you I would.” He seems almost proud of himself.

You scoff. “Asshole. I can’t accept this. Take it back.” You attempt to give it back to him but he pulls his hands away and holds them in the air, refusing to take it.

“No. It’s yours.”

“I don’t want it,” you rebut but it’s no use. He refuses to take it back.

“You need it.”

“I could’ve bought one with my own money. I don’t want you spending so much on me. It’s insane, Rafe.”

“I don’t mind spending a little on you once in a while.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. Like this huge amount of money means nothing to him.

“A little? For fuck’s sake, Rafe, this is a thousand dollar phone! That is way too much.” Your voice is high pitched and desperate. You really can’t accept this. It’s too much. You feel bad for him spending such a sum on you.

“Is it? Don’t really care.”

“Oh my fucking God, you’re impossible!” 

He chuckles. “You love me.”

“I’m about to whoop your fucking ass.”

“Kinky.” He smirks and lays down on his side, body propped up by his forearm and elbow.

You stare at the phone between your hands and then him. You know he won’t budge. Once Rafe has set his mind to something it’s impossible to change it. You also know he won’t take the phone back out of spite. If you don’t want something it’’s exactly what he’ll give you.

“Thank you,” you say, finally giving up. It’s impossible to convince him to take it back.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Your heart tightens at the nickname he uses. It’s not abnormal for him to use nicknames like this for you, but today it feels immensely different.

“Have you eaten anything today?” he asks with a slightly worried tone.

You shake your head. “No. I’ve been too nauseous all morning.”

At that he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, taps a few buttons and then hands it to you. “Order something then.”

You look at him dumbfounded. “What?”

“Food, sweetheart. Order something. You need to eat,” he insists.

Your first thought is that it’s such a sweet gesture which shows your best friend really cares about you. The second one is that he’s about to spend even more money on you. And that you don’t like.

“Rafe.” 

He knows what this is about but refuses to let you argue in any way. “Shut up and get what you want.” 

You zip your lips and scroll on the app on his phone, looking through the options the restaurants offer and choosing what looks and feels the most appetising at the moment. You decide on just fries and chicken nuggets. Your usual hangover food pick. They somehow taste even better than they normally do when you’re battling a killer headache.

“Classic,” he chuckles as you hand him his phone back and he takes a look at what you chose.

He picks something for himself too and then presses the order button and pays for both of your food.

As you wait for the food to arrive, he offers to help you set up your new, extremely expensive, phone. He scoots next to you on the bed, both of you now sitting beside each other, backs against the headboard and your sides together, touching each other. Your skin tingles where it touches his and the feeling is almost addictive.

He taps away on the screen, focused on getting all your data over to this new phone but you just look at him, taking him in. He’s so into the task in front of him that he doesn’t even notice your soft eyes on him. How you look at him with adoration in your eyes and a tightness in your chest.

The familiar urge to kiss him from last night resurfaces. Didn’t he mention he wanted this too? You’re not sure. What if you remember incorrectly? What if your memory is lying to you or making his promises from last night up?

But the need is so strong and your mind is just telling you to go for it. Is this a bad idea? Too late.

Your hand reaches out before you stop yourself, before you can think twice about your actions. You must be still drunk from last night because where is this sudden courage coming from?

You place your hand on his chin and gently turn his head to face you. His face is full of curiosity and confusion.

“I’m sorry,” you say, apologising in advance for your actions because you don’t know what the aftermath of this will be. Leaning in, you place your lips on his which takes Rafe by surprise.

He’s taken aback for a second and pulls away to look at you. He’s searching your eyes for any hesitation or regret. When he doesn’t find a shred of them there, he drops your new phone from his hands, disregarding it somewhere in the sheets and grabbing your face with both of his hands and reuniting your lips once again, kissing you desperately. Like he needs it to breathe. Like he’s hungry and has been starving for months.

It’s feverish. You’re both satisfying a craving you’ve been trying to ignore for so long and all of those feelings are unleashed into that kiss. 

“Don’t ever fucking apologize for that again,” he says when you break apart to catch your breath. His forehead is resting against yours and it’s so intimate on so many levels you feel lightheaded.

You open your mouth, wholeheartedly intending to apologise again but he stops you in your tracks. A ‘shut up’ leaves his mouth before it’s on yours again, shutting you up very effectively. 

“Ass,” you mumble in between kisses.

“You kiss me with that mouth?” He fakes shock at your words.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and use his tactic to shut him up instead.

[spidercatweb]

Pancakes ★ Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: gn!bau!reader, no use of y/n, pure fluff and cuteness!! they are soooo in love, domestic Spence and reader.. ouuugh. my beloveds. r plays sudoku because r is me for real.

Description: You spend a slow, quiet morning w/ Spencer and you make pancakes for breakfast. <3

Word Count: 862

A/n: i NEEEEEED this i need him. i need to wake up next to him so so bad.

Calm, quiet mornings were rare while working at the BAU, but today, miraculously, the team wasn’t called in at 5am. You lay on your back next to Spencer in his bed, basking blissfully in the sunlight peeking through the curtains. His arm is draped over your stomach, Spencer is still fast asleep. For a while, you just lay there with your eyes closed, listening to your boyfriend’s calm, steady breaths.

You turn carefully on your side to face him, lifting his arm off of you then placing it back down. You look over to him, his brown curls messily sprawled out on his pillow. You move a few loose strands out of his face, lightly brushing the side of his face as you do so. Your hand lingers, caressing his face. His breath stutters slightly, but he stays asleep.

***

You must have fallen back asleep, because when you next open your eyes, you’ve somehow tangled your legs with Spencer’s, and he’s wide awake. You startle slightly at his open eyes so close to your face. 

“Good morning.” His voice is still laced with sleep. He slides a warm hand up and down your side.

“Morning, Spence.” You smile, squeezing your eyes shut while you stretch. “No call from Hotch yet?”

“Mm-mm.” He shakes his head. “It’s 8:30, by the way, we should probably eat something.”

You sigh, “I guess you’re right.” You sit up against the headboard, still not entirely awake. Spencer moves with you, sitting up beside you, he presses a kiss to your shoulder on his way up. After that, you gently grab his face, giving him a real kiss, which elicits a surprised squeak from him.

“What do you want for breakfast?” You ask, still holding his blushing face.

“Umm- Wait, what? No- this is my apartment, I’m not going to make you make breakfast for me.” He huffs out a small laugh in disbelief.

“But I want to. I like making things for you.” You pause to think. “Do you have pancake mix?” A grin spreads across your face, your eyes glimmer.

He giggles, immediately giving up on the idea of not letting you make breakfast. “I think I still have some that you brought over here, actually.”

“Perfect.” You peck his cheek before rolling out of bed. You head to the bathroom before the kitchen. You brush your hair and teeth, and wash your face. Spencer goes in after you when you head to the kitchen. You don’t change out of your pajamas, why would you waste a nice outfit when you could be cozy? Spencer doesn’t change either.

As you grease the frying pan, Spencer is still in his room. He sprinkles some fish food into his tank filled with various types of differently striped fish. He stays and watches them for a few moments before joining you in the kitchen.

You hear his footsteps behind you as you pour some batter into the pan. “Hi.” He wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Hi.” You brush a hand over his. “How many do you want?” You point to the sizzling pan with the spatula.

He hums into your shoulder. “Two is good.” 

“Okay. There’s probably going to be extra. That’s perfect though, we’ll have leftovers.” You flip the pancake on the pan, revealing the golden-brown underside.

***

You set your plates down on the kitchen table, two pancakes each. You leave a plate with the extra pancakes on the counter to cool before you put them in the fridge. Spencer grabs the maple syrup and forks. He places them on the table as well.

“Oh, do you have any frozen fruit?” You ask, wanting to add a little something else to your breakfast.

“Uh, yeah. Strawberries. I use them for smoothies.” He nods. 

You return to the kitchen and open up the freezer, grabbing the bag of frozen strawberries. You pour some into a bowl. “Do you want some?”

“Yes please.” He smiles

You microwave the strawberries until they’re warm and syrupy, perfect for pancakes. You pour half of the bowl onto your stack of pancakes, along with a generous amount of syrup, handing the toppings off to Spencer when you’re done.

***

When you’re both finished eating, Spencer insists on cleaning up, which you let him do. You’d feel bad not helping, so you put some things back in the fridge. He tells you about the history of pancakes while you lean on the kitchen counter, out of his way.

***

You spend the rest of your morning in the living room, having quiet, calm conversations with Spencer as he reads, and you fill out puzzles in your sudoku book. You make sure to keep the puzzles out of his sight, because he’d be itching to help you as soon as he saw them. You only ask him for help when you need it, and he appreciates it every time, giving you little hints to help you see which numbers go where.

Of course, as usual, your peace is interrupted by a call from Hotch. At least you got to spend your morning with your favourite person in the world.

Thank you for reading! <3

Feedback is very much appreciated!

My requests are open!

🪻

[brooooswriting]

hi!I was thinking of leighton xreader. leighton discovers she's a sub when r calls her baby girl and she just melts. she's insecure about it

Baby girl

Leighton wasn’t really used to being called pet names. Alicia wasn’t a fan of them, or at least she assumed that as the girl never called her any, and the dudes she “dated” before her weren’t the type to do so.

But you? You were differently, you loved using them and would do it every time you could. It started with normal ones like ‘love’ or ‘darling’, then over time it became something like ‘baby’ and ‘babe’ until the party.

Leighton, her roommates and you were at another frat party when you got separated as you and Bela volunteered to get drinks for everybody. “Damn, that’s a long as cue” the girl complained as you approached the bar and she was right. Normally there were about two to five people at the bar but right now there were about 15. You sighed before starting some small talk with the people around you. Once it was finally your turn you ordered and then quickly scurried off to find your group.

You arrived just in time to see your girlfriend insult a guy to make him back off. It was obvious that she could handle herself and you were 99% sure that he didn’t touch her as Leighton was very keen on campus and somebody would have something. Still, you hurried over to her, staying behind her in case she needed help. When she was done telling him off and he disappeared you made your presence known to her. One hand was on her waist while the other one was on her face as you examined her to make sure she was alright. “Are you okay baby girl?” You asked, watching the changes in her face.

She looked at you for a moment before pulling away from you while nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go drink” she quickly turned away so you weren’t able to see the blush that took over her face. You were confused but followed her nonetheless. You drank, you danced, you chatted but the whole time Leighton avoided eye contact with you which was weird. After a couple of hours you and the blonde were dancing together closely, her back against your front with your hands on her waist. She was wearing that black dress that you loved, which may have been on purpose.

“You look really hot in that dress baby girl” you were a little tipsy and that nickname just kept flowing out, it fit her and you liked it for her. Her body shuddered under your hands and she leaned further into you, a small smirk on your lips. You had a theory and you wanted to test it.

Leighton felt her body heat up when you repeated that name. She’s always been this tall, confident blonde woman that people just assumed was a top, so she also always assumed it. But now with you, towering over her, calling her names like that she couldn’t help but rethink about it. “We should get out of here” she decided, turning around to wrap her arms around your shoulder. You gave her a nod before intertwining your hands to pull her to your dorm.

That night was the first night Leighton let go of herself, she let you take care of her in a way you always wanted. That night your bodies melted into each other, a new connection forming between the two of you. And secretly in a way she also always wanted, there wasn’t one thought in her beautiful mind except for you. Until the next morning.

You woke up with a happy smile on your face as you couldn’t wait to look to your right and see the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen but instead you were met with nothing. Cold sheets and a cold pillow. Your heart sank at the realization that she left after the night you’ve spend together. Sitting up against the headboard you checked for phone, hoping that she had to leave due to something and left you a message but again your heart sank. No text or call. Last night was the first time you felt like the blonde let go of herself, like she trusted you with all her life to take care of her.

While you sat in your bed with a heavy heart Leighton laid in hers with a heavy heart and a full mind. Yesterday’s events constantly replaying in her head but with each replay her heart got heavier and heavier at the realization that she could still lay in your arms, now just waking up. She hated herself for being so insecure about how she let you take care of her, you seemed to enjoy it too, so why leave? The question came up every time her flashback arrived at her tiptoeing out of your room. She couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t be happy with yesterday.

Meanwhile you couldn’t figure out what you had done wrong. Leighton wasn’t answering her phone, no matter how many times you called. After nearly the whole day went by you decided that you guys had to talk about it. If there was anything, literally anything, you had done wrong you wanted to know so you could fix it. You’d do everything to make it up to her. “Hi Kimberly, is Leighton here?” You asked the brunette with a small smile when she opened the door.

“Hi, yeah. I think she’s still in her room. I haven’t really seen her today, she wasn’t in the mood to talk” she answered, stepping aside to let you in. You nodded along as you made your way towards the blondes door.

“Ok, I’ll try and talk to her. Thank you” she gave you a nod and a smile before disappearing into her own room. You waited until her door closed before your knuckles came into contact with the wood. “Leighton? Can we talk?” You asked carefully as you opened the door a small bit so she could hear you better.

“Y/n?” She said surprised, you took that as a sign to come in. You quickly closed the door behind you again, leaning against it to get some kind of support. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was small, a bare whisper leaving her lips in the dark room.

“Well, you left without saying anything and I wanted to see how you’re doing and if I did anything wrong? Because if I did, I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to force you into anything” you explained, not leaving your spot against the door. Leighton was happy about the darkness, your voice portrayed your feelings very clearly and she couldn’t imagine how you were looking right now.

“You didn’t do anything” while her voice was small you could hear that she was genuine. With a bit more confidence you moved towards her bed, sitting at her side on top of her blanket.

“Can I ask why you left then? And didn’t answer my texts? I thought something happened to you” your hand rested on one of her knees, carefully stroking her leg over the covers. You could practically feel her hesitating. “Baby girl?” You urged a bit. You knew the girl better than anyone by now and you knew the longer she was in her head the worse her thoughts got.

Her face turned red again at the nickname and she quickly looked away, trying to hide it just like yesterday. But this time her confidence build back up faster than before, she looked up at you to see you admiring her. Her mind was running miles, she couldn’t decide is she should tell you the truth or just make something up hoping that you’d believe it. But the hope and concern in your eyes as you looked down at her stopped her mind. “I am not used to this” she started, unsure of how to tell you that she was just insecure. That she leaving you in the middle of the night was just due to some stupid anxious thoughts.

Her anxious behavior was radiating off of her so bad that you could practically feel it. You nudged her a bit so she’d scutch over making room for you to lay next to her. You didn’t want to stare at her so you just laid on your back and held her hand in yours. “I’ve never let myself go like this, I’ve always been the dominant one… but with you yesterday, it was so easy, so normal. It just felt right to give control to you and that scares me” she explained, messing with your fingers. You smiled lightly at her, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“And that is completely okay. If you didn’t feel comfortable with it we don’t have to do it again. But if you’re just scared because it hasn’t been like this before it’s okay. We can do take it slow, talk about it, we can do whatever you want to make you feel comfortable with it” you told her, finally facing her to give her a comforting smile. She turned her head towards you too and gave you a small nod.

“I do want it to be like that but I think it’s just that… everybody always expected me to be the strong and dominant one. I never had the opportunity to let go and now I don’t know how to deal with it” you nodded along as she explained her worries, her brows furrowing as she kept getting in her head. As she got deeper and deeper into her thoughts you reached up and brushed your thumb over her furrowed skin.

“Well, with me you can be whatever you want as long as you’re mine” you grinned, knowing that the cheesy line would lighten the mood. She loved watching romcoms with you to make jokes about the cheesiness and since you first did it you used every opportunity to be cheesy.

“You’re an idiot” she laughed as she turned on her side, one hand stroking over your stomach while yours placed itself on her waist. “But you know what, maybe we can practice me letting go now” she leaned over and pressed several kisses to your lips. You ushered her onto your lap, her thighs around you with her hands on your neck while yours grabbed at her hips.

“Whatever you want baby girl” you rasped out, by now knowing that the nickname did something to her. As soon as the nickname left your mouth, she whined and ground her hips down. You chuckled at her neediness before starting to leave marks on your neck.

The next morning you woke up with Leighton in your arms, her back pressed against your front as she held the hand that was over her waist. You smiled and pressed some kisses to her shoulder to lightly wake her up adding a “good morning baby girl”. You immediately heard a whine and felt how she turned in your arms with a smile.

“If you ever wanna leave this bed again you have to stop with that nickname” she said, quickly looking over to see that Bela wasn’t there. Her smile turning into a smirk.

You’d happily stay in that bed forever.

[the-kr8tor]

Wildflower and Barley

Pairing: Robin Hood! Hobie Brown x princess! Reader

Word count: 10.1k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, medieval au, Robin hood au, royalty au, R has unnamed parents and siblings, cw food mentions, mentions of arranged marriage, cw suggestive, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff. Part 2 of the Robin Hood au.

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

Part one <<<

Now dry and out of your sopping wet clothes, and now free of mud caking your skin, you look at the various trinkets and knick knacks littered around the small yet well decorated room. Aunt Janet was kind enough to lend you some clothes and let you stay in the treehouse which surprisingly had a wooden contraption that brings you up and down the tree without you even setting foot on the ladder. Aunt Janet told you that Hobie invented it and calls it a ‘lift’. You thought he was a genius for coming up with it. Just thinking about climbing up with that huge mess of a dress of yours gives you a headache.

The room they've temporarily put you in is cozy, the bed is carved with various woodland creatures on it with vines and swimming fishes etched on the headboard. The wooden bed is covered in soft quilt blankets piled up to make the bed softer. It's pretty, you thought. Janet and the others are nicer than any captors you've ever had. Well, except for your would be suitor, you find him annoying with his pretty eyes, handsome smile, scent that wakes the butterflies in your stomach and calloused hands that are warmer than the blazing sun— you're done for.

A knock wakes you up from your stupor, turning around, you clear your throat and thoughts of Hobie.

“You decent?” His voice almost makes you dizzy, it's either that or you have a looming concussion from your recent fall. You won't know until you see him for yourself.

“Yes, I'm dressed.”

Hobie opens the door, you notice his different outfit this time. He has leather bracers on with tiny spikes protruding on each of his wrists. His blue pants fit him better now than the clothes that you surmise he nicked from an unfortunate courtier. A blue tunic with jade green thread is stitched at the hems, and a thick belt helps cinch his waist as if it needed the help. You swallow down your loud beating heart, but it doesn't help when you spot the silver and gold piercings he now has on his ears and face. His hair is more gorgeous than ever with the silver accents weaved and placed around it like tiny stars dotted on his hair.

He raises a pierced brow, hand reaching up to place it atop the doorway to lean on it while the other hand is on his hip. His waist length cloak unfurls behind him, draping him in brilliant blue, revealing the spider stitched on the cloth. Unbeknownst to you, he's admiring you too. Now without the layers upon layers of fabric hiding you, he sees the real you without all the jewels shining in his eyes and the crown glaring down at him as if he's unworthy of your gaze. He tries to shake…whatever he's feeling but it keeps coming back to him whenever he meets with your pretty eyes.

So he plays it off casually even though he could only see you in front of him and his senses seem to dull within your presence. He just chalks it up to you being attractive in his eyes. Sure, that could only be it, right?

“See somethin' you fancy?”

“No, just staring at the bow and quiver of arrows on you. Have you finally decided to kill me? I know your aim is nothing to be scoffed at.” You don't show an ounce of fear.

Hobie snorts, “nah, just admirin’ you in my room, and coat.”

You scoff, not believing that Janet would place you in his room *and dress you in his clothes. So you turn your head away to avoid looking at him. You suddenly find an unassuming lute more interesting, or rather acting like it is. “You weren't lying about the lute. Do you still play?”

He follows your gaze towards the well loved instrument. “Yeah, d’you?”

“No, but I do know how to play the piano as it was required of me.”

He raises his chin, gesturing towards you as you cross your arms atop your chest. “If you could choose, what instrument would you like to learn?”

“Why?” You chuckle at the uncommon question.

“Just askin’ ‘m a curious lad.” He shrugs with a small smile.

“The flute probably.” You sit on the soft bed. “I always loved how it sounded.”

“I think a flute would suit you, princess.” Hobie crosses the small distance, he then sits on a stool adjacent to the bed. He's quite close to you, knees brushing along your own. But not close enough to feel how your breath hitches in your throat.

“Don't mock me, Hobie.”

He knits his brows together. “‘m not, that was genuine.”

“Alright, why do you think it would suit me?” You lean closer, elbows placed atop your thighs and chin resting on your palms.

He tilts his head with a quiet chuckle. “You have the lips for it.” You're taken aback, a satisfying reaction for him. “But do you have the lungs for it, love?���

Silence stills the air around you two as you try to breathe in and out while he waits for a response with his unreadable gaze towards you.

“...stop fucking with me.” You say with a loud scoff, standing up and hitting his knees when you walk away to face the window on the far end of the room. His chuckles continue as you put your arms on your chest, huffing and puffing away the warmth from your cheeks.

“You're easy to tease, princess.” He wipes a tear from his eye after recovering from his bout of laughter. “I didn't even know you have it in you to curse.”

You abruptly turn around. “I want to get out far away from here.”

“Is my joke that bad?” He says with a raised brow.

Sighing, you put your foot down, steely gaze staring right at him. “You saw how they treated me, I don't want to marry a stranger and become like my siblings.”

“You were ready to marry me.” He pretends to not understand. Or that's what you think, he's riling you up again to get a reaction from you.

“I was pretending so the courting would stop.” A half lie on your end. You're attracted to him, sure, but you thought that marrying him would be the lesser evil than marrying some pompous rich lord who would only treat you like a walking womb. Inhaling, you continue. “I don't want to be stuck.”

Hobie's gaze turns serious. “Is that why you barely fought back?”

You rub your face tiredly. “Yes. I don't want to end up like the rest of my siblings. I want to have a life, a life that doesn't end with me dying during childbirth or being killed because of my husband's mistress hired an assassin!”

“That sounds oddly specific.”

“Because that all happened to them. I'm a sister to ghosts.” You don't realize that a single tear is sliding down your cheek. Quickly wiping it away, you don't notice his eyes filled with empathy. “I'll tell you about the secret passages in the castle that would lead you to the royal jewels.” Hobie blinks and perks up in his seat. “in exchange, you bring me with you to grab my things—”

“As much as I want to see you lock pickin’ your way in your own castle, you'd be a liability, princess.” Hobie stands up with his hands placed on his hips.

“Without me you'll get lost in the passageways. It's a labyrinth in there, I once got lost in there for an entire day before my handmaiden found me.” You explain. “After the whole ordeal, you'll flag down a ship for me heading towards the northern territories.” Walking towards him, you face him fully with your finger jabbing him at his toned chest. “Then and only then, we'll be even.”

Hobie sniffs, nodding along. “That's all then?”

“You're not gonna ask why the north? Or ask me to map the passageways instead of coming with you?”

“Why should I ask when I already know the answer, hm?” He takes a step forward, closing in on you while your accusing finger gets trapped in between him and you; in turn, you put your palm on his chest as he smirks down at you. “I won't ask you to draw a map because I don't trust you, blue blood. As for the first part— Your royal pain in the arses don't have power over in the north ever since the rebellion. And you'll be safe there until you can hitch a ride out of the country. As long as they don't find out that you're the princess.”

You don't back down, challenging him with your head raised high. “That's why you'll forge documents for me.”

“Who says I will?”

“Well, you got into the palace, and the only way you did that was taking on the identity of some poor sap who might've stopped in the middle of the road to help some injured woman or…” you push him away, looking at him up and down without shame. He looks befuddled, but he recovers quickly, expression turning into amusement. Even enjoyment from the banter. “Some man screaming for help. Either way, he has been your mark ever since you planned this whole thing. And it wouldn't have worked without some legitimate looking papers.”

“Or we stole the papers from him when we took his clothes.” He dares you.

“You could've, but you were worried that he won't have it or it might rip during the scuffle.” You click your tongue. “Hence the dried up ink, stolen seal of the registry and hundreds of balled up parchment on top of your desk says otherwise.” a smile slowly spreads across his face, a sign that you're right. “Do you want me to tell you that I was your plan B or do I have to explain to you how I found that one out?”

“I have to train you in case shit gets hairy.” He flicks his eyes downwards and then without shame, he roams his eyes up to your determined eyes. “Whip you into shape and shed all that royal ego off of you.”

“You have to train me?”

“I don't trust anybody else with you. My closest crew could but I'll still be there watchin’” Hobie reaches for your hand, waiting for you to close the deal. “You might charm the trousers off ‘em. Do we have a deal, princess?”

“Do you agree with my terms?”

He shrugs, hand still in place. “As long as you don't leave us high and dry when the time comes.”

“I give you my word, take my tiara as a sign of my cooperation.”

“I already have it.” He flicks his eyes to his hand, fingers stretching out, still waiting. You raise a questioning brow, “fine, I pinky promise, princess.”

“Once more, but without your mocking tone.”

Hobie tamps down his laughter by biting his lip, with a sigh, he relents. It's not a bad deal, you get to leave and not snitch to your parents on where Doverhill is, and he gets the jewels to feed his people and lessen any unwanted encounters with your stealth approach.

“Deal,” taking your hand, he shakes it.

“Good, when do we start?” You say with determination in your eyes.

—

Your face hits the mud covered ground with a resounding smack. Your audience cheers and Mayday’s giggles egg you on to stand up despite your face full of thick mud clinging to your cheeks.

“C’mon now, princess, it was just a shove!” Yuri teases you some more as she stands behind you.

Lifting up your head, you see Hobie leaning on the fences while munching on an apple casually. “Told you to dodge.”

You lift yourself up by your elbows, muddled eyes glaring at him. “I thought you were supposed to train me!”

“I am.” He takes a juicy bite from the fruit. “I didn't want to be responsible for marring your pretty face. And Yuri volunteered.”

“And I'm so glad I did!” She jumps up and down on the mud, invigorated by the so-called fight. “C’mon and get up, I want to show you my upper cut!”

“Oh god.” You thump your head on the mud. “I thought you'd teach me how to lock pick or even archery.”

“Nah, you gotta earn that.” He says while chewing. “We've got a month until they take out the red alert on the castle, you've got plenty of time to train, love. Besides, free entertainment.” He unfurls his long arms, and cheers erupt from the children watching you get your ass beat by Yuri.

Standing up on wobbly feet, you continue to scowl at him. “I hate you.”

Hobie does something you least expect, winking and keeping his eyes glued on your own as if he's imagining that you're the apple that he's currently taking a bite out of.

Flustered, you turn away from him. The second you put your fists in front of you, you get

knocked out by Yuri and her fierce uppercut. Darkness envelops you while you fall down on the soft ground.

You've got a long month ahead of you.

—

“Fuck!” You curse after breaking what must've been your fifteenth lock pick. Throwing it away, you thump your head against the wooden door, feeling the rough material under you. “Can I at least get the better lock pick instead of using your shitty ones?” You address Hobie, who's sitting on the bed while mindlessly strumming his lute. The sound would've been lovely but with your situation, you just find it annoying.

“You know the answer to that, blue blood.” He glances briefly at you, throwing another leather pouch at you that you already know is full of badly made lock picks. “You're stuck with me until you open the door.”

“This is torture.” You narrow your eyes at him, knees aching from how long you've been kneeling down on the floor. Not even the pillow underneath you is helping. “And this one won't even work!” You show him a bent lock pick.

He mocks you by opening and closing his hand like a yammering mouth. Your supposed mouth.

You've had enough, your stomach is growling and the back of your neck is sweating. So with a precise aim, you throw the bent metal at him. It lands straight in the hole in the middle of his lute.

“What the fuck?!” His astonishment makes you guffaw.

“I told you that we should've started off with archery.” You say in a sing-song tone. His mouth opens widely, and with you having twelve siblings, you already know what he's about to do. “Don't you dare—!” Hobie screams at the top of his lungs, prompting you to cover your ears. “You're a child!” He strums his guitar loudly and without a thought. “Stop!”

He stops to catch his breath. “I'll keep screamin’ until you unlock that bloody door.”

“No—!”

He shouts again, and you immediately try to lockpick your way out of your personal hell. The metal breaks again, and you stop yourself from throwing it at him again. At least he seems to be having fun.

—

The stew is warm in your hands and the chatter reminds you of dinners back at home when your siblings still lived there. You look at the long tables placed in the town hall where they serve dinners every night to provide a sense of community within the village. They all eat together, laughing with their families and friends while you're left standing at the far end by your lonesome.

You find that there's no place for you here.

Beginning to turn around, you feel someone tugging on your shirt. Looking down, you see a hair of red and freckles staring up at you with her big blue eyes.

“Hi, Mayday.” You give her a tight-lipped smile. You can still feel how the ground met your nose.

“Aunt Janet asked me to say sorry to you.”

You wait for her to do so.

“But I don't want to.” She says defiantly.

“Alright then.” You try to walk away but she stops you by pulling at your borrowed coat. “What is it?”

“Do you want to eat with us?” She glances behind her. When you look at the table, you see Hobie's entire crew merrily chatting and eating while the man himself meets with your eyes with a glint in those hazel eyes. Pouting, she tugs at you again. “When Aunt Janet asks—”

“I'll tell her that you apologized.”

She puffs her chest out, curly hair cascading down her cheeks. “Good,” leading you towards the table, she continues to pull at you. “You have to meet Miles and Gwen!”

As you get closer to the table, Hobie smirks and tells people to make space for you to sit down. You can't help but smile at him while Mayday excitedly introduces you to Hobie's crew that you already know by name. Of course you wouldn't tell her that, lest you get on her bad side again.

Mayday talks your ears off after getting used to you. Even after dinner and when people start cleaning up, she stays with you and asks you numerous questions about your time being a princess and living in a golden castle; all the while you braid her hair out of her face which she's happy enough to stay still for you.

“Do you bathe in milk?” She asks while you brush her hair. “Do you have a dragon?” She gasps. “A pony?!”

“No, no and yes, I did have a pony.” You chuckle.

“Did? What happened to it?”

You blink, hands pausing on her hair. “I don't know actually.”

Mayday turns around, brows furrowed at your expression. “They sent it to the farm didn't they? Hobie said that Jared is at the farm too.”

“Jared?”

“My squirrel!”

You fully understand what the farm actually is. “...Sure, probably.”

While you continue to tie her hair, you don't notice Hobie's soft gaze towards you as he leans on the doorway with his hands in his pockets and with a smile that never leaves his lips with every topic you and Mayday talk about.

“Careful now, don't fall for her.” Ned suddenly appears by his side, voice whispering, sending goosebumps on the back of his neck. “‘Don’t fall for the mark,’ remember?”

Hobie cranes his neck towards Ned, who teases him with a light smirk. “I bloody know, Neddy, ‘m not daft. She's a princess.”

“And? That doesn't mean you're immune to falling for her. Hell, there's a reason why I've kept James away from her.”

Hobie snorts, arms crossed over his chest. “James fancies her?”

“I smell jealousy, Hobart.” Ned half jokes. Hobie glares at him, jaw tightening before he opens his mouth widely. “No!” Before Hobie could yell (as if he would at night) Ned is already running away with his hands cupping his ears.

With a victorious chuckle, he returns to watch you interact with Mayday only to find a gaggle of children asking you questions and requesting for you to braid their hair too. Your smile brightens up the night while you try to placate each child with patience and a childish grin. He blinks and he meets with your eyes that look at him with a tender gaze.

He's in trouble.

—

The string in your hand is taut and rough against the pads of your fingers, a stark contrast to the smooth wooden bow in your other hand. You close one eye, aiming directly at the painted target that looks awfully like your father.

Hobie stands next to you with his own bow in hand, eyes trained on your posture, making sure you don't hurt yourself by standing close to you. The sun bares down on both of you while birds chirp, and the wind blows gently at the canopies.

“Remember to inhale before lettin’ go.”

“How philosophical.” You raise a brow, and with a sharp inhale, you let go of the arrow. It soars above, curving atop the target and landing on the grass behind it. “Damnit.”

You expect Hobie to laugh at you or tease you, instead, he walks towards you. “‘ere, let me.” With a nod, he corrects your posture. The tip of his fingers push lightly at your shoulders, straightening your back. You then feel his knuckles ghost above your spine, tracing it without touching you. “Keep your shoulders aligned with your hip.” His warmth radiates off him as he gently holds your hips, pushing and twisting you to position your body to the correct position.

You stand like a marble statue in his space, you dare not breathe, afraid that he'd let you go. “What now?” You ask while he nocks an arrow in your bow with his hands briefly brushing along your own.

“Now…” with his fingers holding your chin, he moves your head. Feeling his calloused skin on your warming flesh. “You shoot.” He whispers against the shell of your ear before leaving your side. “I know you could do better than the lockpick.”

Your head is all jumbled up because of him, how could you train in this condition? More or less shoot a sharp projectile?

“C’mon, princess, I don't have all day.” You can practically hear his smirk from his tone.

“Asshole.” You curse under your breath, nocking back the arrow to release. To his surprise but not to you, it flies overhead, much higher and farther from your last shot. The arrow overshoots, soaring over the trees and out of the village. “Ah shit.”

Now he laughs, “what happened, hm?” He nudges you with his shoulder while chortling at your miserable aim.

You glare at him, chin hidden atop your shoulder to mask your flustered self. “It was the wind.”

Hobie shakes his head with a chuckle, “don't think so.” Without looking at the target, he loads an arrow, quickly nocking it back and shooting directly at the sack target. “See?” He proves his point. Smirking, he nocks three arrows at the same time, and again he doesn't look at what he's aiming. Pulling the bow string, you can see his muscles straining from under his tunic, you barely even saw the arrows fly and hit the target simultaneously and effortlessly. Breath stuck in your throat, he smirks triumphantly at you.

“Show off.” You hide your impressed expression with a well timed scoff.

Hobie's satisfied with your reaction based on his lopsided grin. “C’mon, we need to get that arrow.” He says as he places his bow on his back, quiver placed right on his hip like always.

You groan, tired from today's activities. You're more than ready for lunch. You still have a full schedule after this session. “Why? You have plenty of arrows.” Gesturing towards the bucket full of arrows, you complain.

“Because if someone sees that they'll figure out that there's a settlement nearby.” He pats your back, urging you to walk with him. You stand there, groaning at the thought of hiking. “I can't let you go alone, can I? You might run.”

“And here I thought you were concerned for me because of the bears.” You follow him.

“If we see one I'd let it get you.” He smiles, waiting for your reaction.

“No you won't.” You roll your eyes.

You two reach the vines, he orders his people to unfurl it. “Maybe I will, maybe not. You don't know that, love.”

He passes by the ‘gates’ nodding a thank you at the guards on watch. One of them seems to look at you for far too long. Too long for Hobie's liking, he snaps his head at the said guard, prompting him to return to his duties while avoiding Hobie's gaze. You saw the whole interaction unfold, giving you the right teasing ammo.

“I didn't know that you're the jealous type.” You walk with your hands behind your back while you continue to follow him. He knows the forest better than you, and you'd rather not get lost in it.

“I don't know what you mean.” He swipes away at a branch, lifting it up to let you pass through unscathed.

You nudge him, pushing him lightly as leaves crunch underfoot. “Sure you don't.”

“You always know how to rile me up. And not the good kind.” He fights back with his own teasing.

“Likewise, Hobart—!” A protruding tree root catches your foot, making you stumble and trip over it. Before you could fall and meet the ground once again, Hobie catches you in his arms. Cheek pressed on his chest, arms holding him close.

“Should I start callin’ you clumsy?” He rhetorically asks while he's still holding you in place. You don't find it in yourself to let go.

“Anything to keep you from calling me princess.” You huff, and you see goosebumps appear on his skin.

“I'll do it if you stop callin' me Hobart.” You feel his breath fan the top of your head, and his fingers splayed over your back.

Leaning away, hands still on his chest, you look at him with feigned annoyance. “Fine.”

Hobie sees himself reflected in your eyes while leaves dance in the wind. The cacophony of the forest lulls you and him into a bubble of affection, just you and him in the vast greenery of the land you call home.

His hands latch off from you, with one last look, he leads you where the arrow could've landed. You follow him wordlessly, his back facing you while he guides you.

Soon after, the silence fades away as you hear the rushing of water. Hobie pushes a thick bush away, parting it to reveal a waterfall and a clear pool hidden in the deep forest.

It takes your breath away. “Wow.” You gasp, eyes shining at the glimmering water.

Hobie watches your reaction with a fond smile, “Pretty, innit?”

“Beautiful.” You turn towards him, smiling brilliantly.

For a moment, you two share a look, just languishing in each other's presence while listening to the water cascade down the pool.

Clearing his throat, Hobie returns his attention towards the water only to see the arrow embedded at the bottom of the mirror-like pool. He chuckles when he spots the scales underneath the tip of the arrow.

“At least you hit somethin' this time, clumsy.”

You follow his gaze, walking closer until your shoes hit the cool water. “Is that?”

“Lunch.” He grins, “and I've got the perfect place to cook it.” Gesturing with his head at the waterfall, you tilt your head questioningly. “C’mon then.”

—

You're drenched from head to toe, Hobie didn't say that you had to walk into the waterfalls to reach it. And by it, he meant his secret hideout hidden behind the waterfalls. It's a sizable cave with its moist walls and camping gear that he must've left behind for himself.

You warm yourself near the fire while he rubs salt and spices onto the fish that he's preparing. “Do you take all your women here?” A half joke on your end.

“Only the fit ones that provide lunch.” He glances at you with a smirk while you hide your face in your hands, pretending to rub it and warm yourself. “Why leave?”

“Laying it on thick, Hobie?”

“Alright, do you want bread with your fish?”

“Sure—”

“Too bad, we don't have bread.” He places the fish in the hot skillet, it sizzles in place, the smell making your stomach grumble. “So why leave your cushy life? D’you really want to be a jester?” Joking and recalling your words you uttered in the throne room a few weeks ago, you roll your eyes with a small smile.

“Simple, freedom. All my life I've been told what to wear, what to eat and when to speak. For once I want to decide for myself, even if it means leaving my cushy life behind.” You squeeze out water from your sleeve. “I–it's not like I decided on a whim. I've been trying to leave ever since I heard that I'll be the next one to be married off. I know it'll be hard after, but I know it'll be worth it.” You meet with his eyes, “Your turn, why do you have this secret place of yours?”

“For debauchery, of course.”

You chortle, “I don't know if you're lying or not.”

He mirrors your smile. “I like my silence.”

You instantly know what he means. “I have twelve siblings, I like my silence too.”

“Siblings,” he repeats with a soft smile while staring at the crackling fire. “I guess Ned and the others are my siblings.”

“I guess they are.” You say delicately. “My turn to ask the heavy question, why do you do…” you gesture at him. “All of it? The risk is higher than the reward you get for stealing shit from aristocrats, so why don't you keep it for yourself?”

Hobie turns the fish around, cooking it fully until it's golden brown, letting your question simmer in his mind. “‘m content, love, I've got my place, and I've got my people. Why do I need to hoard wealth when I've got everythin' I could ever need?” He chuckles softly, “I steal from the wealthy to give back to the people they stole from. They need it the most, and I don't do it for satisfaction, I do it so that people have a bigger chance of surviving another day when their own lords fail to provide for them. Or in most cases, their king.” The fish sizzles, filling the cave with smoky air. “I failed my people once, I won't let that happen again. You'll never understand it, princess.”

You look at him through the flames, “then let me see. Let me understand. Show me all the failings my blood has done.”

Hobie gazes back with an unreadable expression. Silence replaces the smoky air, you can only hear the cackling of the fire and the rushing of waters behind you. After a while, Hobie speaks again. “What are you plannin’ to do after all this?”

“Asking me out, Hobie?” You manage a jape after the previous heavy conversation. An attempt to lighten the silence.

“Care to find out?” Your teasing backfires. His lopsided smile makes you falter, heart thudding loudly while your skin feels like the poor fish who met the end of your arrow. He always recovers faster than you.

You look at a rock in the corner, trying to play it cool but he can't be fooled by your failed attempt at hiding your sheepish self. “...probably a flower shop.” You mutter.

“What's that, love? I can't hear you.” He riles you up again, hand placed behind the shell of his ear in a mocking fashion.

You sigh, brows furrowed and cheeks aflame. “I said I might start a flower shop.”

“I didn't peg you as a horticulturist.”

“I don't know, it just sounds nice.” You play off your lack of plan casually.

Hobie laughs and shakes his head while he takes the skillet away with a cloth around the handle. The fish still sizzles, and smells mouth wateringly good. He then takes out a knife, cutting your share while smoke wafts out of the meat. Giving you a piece, you take it without a word, embarrassment still lingering in the pit of your stomach.

He reaches for a piece himself, lifting it up like a goblet towards you. “To not havin’ plans.”

You guffaw above the rushing water, “to not having plans.” ‘Clinking’ your lunch with his, you happily eat with Hobie, occasionally laughing at the banter.

—

You make your way towards the city center with your disguise billowing in the wind. Your dark cape and hood makes you blend into the cheering crowd, oblivious to your stealthy movements. You're out of Doverhill and into the city where you were born and raised, but you've never been out in the actual streets in your entire life. You can see the castle, your home looming over the cramped city. The same city you've always looked at with longing through your bedroom window. You once dreamed of stepping foot on the cobblestone, to interact with your subjects and listen to their problems so you could help in any way a princess can. And now that you're in the thick of it, you now see the truth.

The city is filled to the brim with people surviving on measly coin for the entire day. Mothers, who have barely anything to feed their children. The elderly begging for scraps. People, *your subjects, scrounging for leftovers in the streets when up in the palace, your family and the courtiers had everything they could ever eat and more. If not for Hobie giving you one final task, a test to see if you can handle the heist that you've helped plan together with him and the rest of the crew; you wouldn't have seen how bad it is in the land you love and cherish.

You grip onto your hood tighter, wandering the streets all the while avoiding Hobie and his crew. He tasked you to pick a mark within his group to steal a single coin without being noticed or caught. If you do it successfully, you get to join them and do what you need to do before leaving the country, only to never return.

Blending into the gathering crowd, you finally see Hobie and his crew that you've grown to know. Yuri helped you with your hand to hand combat patiently, and as thanks, you made her a simple embroidery of a lily because you once remembered her talking about a flower that she couldn't remember the name of but remembers what it looked like. She was ecstatic, but Ned, who taught you how to disappear in a crowd, was a bit jealous, so you made him his own embroidery of a bumblebee. After that everyone in Doverhill wanted their own exclusive embroidery from the princess herself. It's safe to say that your embroidery classes were put to good use. The only person you haven't given a piece to is Hobie, his embroidery has been hidden in your pocket for days since you've finished it. You're too nervous to give it to him, more or less show it to him.

Hobie speaks in the middle of the crowd with boxes and crates upon crates full of food and supplies to help the people. You watch as his crew hands them out to the waiting crowd. Quickly, the air fills with gratitude, smiles and even some tears. While they're busy, you head towards Hobie and Mayday, who are occupied with a gaggle of children munching on honeyed candy while vying for their attention.

“We have a new person with us!” Mayday's excited chatter makes you pause midstep. “I can't tell you who she is but she's amazing! She taught me how to sew and write poetry.” A chorus of ‘wows’ and ‘woahs’ can be heard. “And look, she even braided my hair like how a princess wears her hair!”

Hobie chuckles by her side, coin pouch almost half empty while he gives most of it out to people. “Tell ‘em the part where you tripped her.” He spots you in his peripheral whilst you stalk on the outskirts of the crowd. It's impossible not to, as if his senses have attuned itself to your presence. He doesn't say anything.

“I did!” She proudly says, and you almost laughed.

“I thought you liked her?” A child asks, nose scrunched up.

“But back then I just didn't like her very much.” Mayday says and you almost falter as you sneakily ease your hand in James' pocket. Mayday continues to tell stories about you and your old pony while Hobie pretends that he doesn't see you.

Yuri suddenly appears by his side, nudging his shoulder. “Should I tell him?” She chuckles, whispering to him. “I gotta hand it to her, she chose the most oblivious one to steal from.”

“Taught her well,” Hobie mutters back, “don't tell him or her. Let it happen.”

“Is this one of your brilliant plans?”

“Maybe.” He sees you scurry off to an alley all without James or people noticing you. Smiling fondly, he returns his attention to the task at hand. “We need to hurry up and distribute these before the guards get ‘ere.”

“Aye, aye.” Yuri turns away with a knowing look that Hobie has a feeling he knows the reason what it pertains to.

—

You watch as the sun gets smaller and smaller on the horizon. The sea is calm while the salty breeze flutters your lashes. The hustle and bustle of the dock has calmed down ever since you made yourself comfortable on a crate. Munching on a loaf of bread, you watch a ship leave the dock, its anchor slowly emerging from the waters.

“You're late, Hobie.” You felt him before you saw him. Looking over your shoulder, you see him in a similar cloak and hood, bow and arrow hidden behind him. “I got the coin from James, but…” you show him the half eaten bread in your hand. “I used it already.”

Hobie admires you in the orange and pink hues, your eyes seem to glow in the light, while your lips curl into a gentle smile. He inhales, making his way towards you, leaning on the dock bannister, and watching the ship sail away into the fading horizon.

“Can I have some?” He asks, head turning towards you.

You grin with a chuckle, breaking the loaf apart to give the biggest side to him. “Here, you look like you need it more than I do.” You poke at his cheek, feeling his tired muscle underneath it.

“Runnin' away from your guards is hard work.” He takes a bite, “do I look that bad?”

Without thinking, you reach for the corner of his lip to wipe away a crumb stuck on it. “Nothing like a good nap couldn't fix.” Realization hits you, flinching away, you play your behaviour off by returning your attention towards the sea. “Sorry.” You clear your throat.

Hobie stands there, frozen and in the middle of chewing. Swallowing down the bread and his sudden nerves, he brushes his knuckle over your cheek where dirt clings onto your skin unbeknownst to you.

“Now we're even.” He says gently, and you gaze at him through glassy eyes and warm cheeks. With a sigh, he moves away, casually finishing off the bread. “D’you need anythin’ else for tomorrow?”

You take a deep breath, eyes glancing over to the castle. “Guts?”

“Don't think we can get that from the shops, love.”

You chortle, fingers playing with the hem of your cloak. “You didn't exactly give me this test to see if I can successfully pickpocket someone right?”

Hobie turns sideways to look at you fully, still leaning on the handrail. “No.”

“You wanted me to see this.” You gesture around the city. “And how bad the situation here is.” He nods, eyes trained on you. “If I had known…” you ball your fists around the fabric of your trousers. “...I could've done something. Anything.”

“Could've, would've, should've. The important thing is that you're ‘ere now.” He tentatively takes your hand, you're cold under his palm as he feels you slowly warm up from his touch alone. He gives you enough space to let go. But you don't. “You're doin' somethin' now. You're better than them.” He points at the palace behind you. “And if all goes well tomorrow, you've helped more than they have ever since they've taken the throne.” Squeezing your hand, he lets you fall atop him, your face hidden on his shoulder. “You’re good, Y/N, I know you are.”

You let go of his hand, arms embracing him fully. “You're good too, Hobie.” While you hold him, you sneak the embroidery of a bow and arrow you made inside his pocket.

With his arms around you, the moon slowly appearing in the sky, and face on the crook of your neck, he lets you cry while his palm rests on your shoulder blades, gently caressing. Your words have sparked something in him, and your touch ignited it within him, warming him up from the inside out. It doesn't engulf him nor burn him, it soothes him at his core, and he sense that you can feel it too through his chest.

—

Your hands are sweaty while gripping the dessert cart. The sweet confections wobble while you make your way towards the kitchens. Dressed in the cook's attire, you blend in with the rest of the busy staff walking briskly on the marble floors.

The plan was to split up, to dress like the staff and infiltrate the castle with only your disguises. You all plan to meet up at the library where the main tunnel leads towards the royal apartments where the crown jewels are located. If everything goes to plan, they'll have the jewels in their satchels without ever being noticed.

Your eyes dart around the halls, trying incredibly hard not to stick out like a sore thumb. *So far so good. You think to yourself, attempting to calm your nerves. Some staff glance at you but they thankfully let you go without questioning you and why you're pushing a cart full of cakes towards the library. The courtiers don't even pay you any heed.

Out of danger for now, you walk faster when you see the double doors leading to the library you've spent most of your days in.

“Halt!” A deep voice calls after you, and you stop in your tracks, hands already shaking.

“Yes?” You fake your voice, eyes downturned to hide your face.

“Where are you heading?” He asks, head gesturing towards the tea and cakes.

“The library, s–sir.”

“I've been patrolling this hallway for hours and not a single person has entered the library.” He narrows at you suspiciously.

You clear your thoughts, determination surpassing over your anxiety. “Lady Caroline has asked me to deliver them in advance. Says she has some sort of meeting with the other court ladies.” It's a long stretch, but the said lady is known for her gossiping circles.

“Hmm,” he straightens up, thankfully not recognising you and believing your bold lie. “Go ahead, just don't make a mess.”

“Understood.” You don't look back as you make your way towards the doors. Shutting it close, you can finally breathe on your own. “We made it.” You shakily walk towards the long table at the center of the large room, chest heaving, and pupils fully dilated. “I— fuck.”

A sudden hand grasps your bicep gently which almost made you yelp in surprise. “Just breathe, it's over.” Hobie has come out from under the cart to soothe you by rubbing his palm up and down your trembling arms. “Y/N, can you look at me?” With his fingertips, he moves your head to face him. “There you are,” he smiles, “breathe with me, yeah?”

You nod, hand upon his clavicle, eyes watching his chest go up and down while you mirror him. “I—I thought I fucked it up.”

“Nah, you did brilliantly. I thought I had to shoot an arrow at his eye.” He pats your cheek, thumb tracing under your eye. “You alright?”

“I think I am now,” you whisper, eyes darting over to his lips, and breathing normalized. “Are you?”

“Nothin' gets the heart pumpin’ than almost gettin' caught.” Hobie says softly as he gazes at your own lips. He says your name as if he's tasting it on his tongue. “Can I—?”

He aches for you.

“Yes.”

And you yearn for him.

The doors open with a squeak, and out comes Yuri in her handmaiden dress with her eyes wide and blinking at the two of you. You and Hobie freeze on the spot.

Her surprise turns into amusement. “Am I interrupting something?”

You're the first one to move away, acting casually as if she didn't catch you in the act. Meanwhile, Hobie finds the rows of books more interesting than Yuri smirking at him.

“No, you're just in time, Yuri.”

She hums with a knowing gaze at the two of you. “Bet you two wished I was late, huh?”

“No.” You and Hobie manage to say simultaneously. Hobie clears his throat while you grab a discarded book to hide your face under. You can practically hear all the future teasing that you'll face after this.

“Where are the others?” Hobie recovers much faster than you could. “They should be ‘ere by now.”

“Don't know, I didn't see them in the halls.”

Their words concern you as minutes tick past. While the three of you wait, you find the hidden passage hidden behind one of the bookshelves. After a quick scan, you see the book you've been looking for. The cover is in a deep shade of blue, the title worn down from the years, but you can briefly read the words ‘between’ and ‘sea’ on the fading paint. You've read it dozens of times, but so far you still don't know the title.

Before you could reach for it, the doors opened once again, much louder this time. Instead of just Ned, James and the rest of Hobie's crew, they're joined by someone. They dragged the guard that was patrolling outside. His body is limp but still clearly breathing while Ned and the crew drags him further inside the library.

“Can we get some help here?” James huffs, hands occupied with the guard's legs.

“What the bloody hell happened?” Hobie rushes towards them, helping get the man inside the room.

“Shit happened.” Ned pants, “we don't have time so we'll explain later. For now we need to tie him down.”

“My specialty.” Yuri reveals a thick rope from under her apron, “help me with his arms.”

Hobie glances towards you, shrugging his shoulders with a ghost of a smile. “Open it, love.”

You nod, giving him a smile. With a yank on the book, the secret passage opens with a wooden groan. It opens a smidge, so Hobie helps you with pushing it further open.

“Love, huh?” James mutters under his breath. Ned snickers by his side.

The tunnel is dark and dank, air stale and moist. The walls are lined with thick cobwebs upon cobblestones. There's not a single light in place as the breeze drifts inside.

“A bit creepy innit?” Hobie glances at you, “can't believe you slept in a castle with jester tunnels behind your bedroom walls.”

“When you put it that way, yes, that's fucking creepy, Hobie.” You chuckle as he chortles back.

“Move over, love birds.” Yuri pushes the two of you away from the door with a flaming torch in hand. “We have to steal some shit remember?” She says over her shoulders, and the rest follows her with a teasing grin on their lips except for James who has a deep frown. “And you have a ship to catch, princess.”

“Oh,” you almost forgot about you leaving for a second. Hobie glances at you, smile faltering. “Y–yes, I remember, of course.” Stepping inside the passageway, you make your way towards the front of the group as Yuri passes you the torch. Hobie stays a few ways behind the group, eyes trained on your back. “Let's go.”

—

Your hand glides along the wall, feeling every indent and curve of the rocks. You know the tunnels well enough to know about the secret markings etched on the walls. Every two feet you walk, there's a subtle ‘x’ carved on the stone. If you pass by a wall that doesn't have that mark after the last two feet, then you could get lost if you don't retrace your steps. So with measured steps, you carefully guide the group through the tunnel, making sure that they're holding onto each other and to you. You've learned this trick after your older brother taught you how to sneak into the library at night without being noticed. You have no idea how he is now.

Hobie's hand upon your shoulder is gentle, you can feel his reassuring squeeze every time you shakily breathe in the dusty air.

You pass by a door on your right, remembering that it's your father's study. You almost ignored it but with your name being uttered by his advisor, you stop your movements while the others follow suit. Moving closer to the door, you look at the crack in the wood, seeing your father at his usual place in his study, and your mother sitting nearby. A testament to their love. They had a lot of love to give each other, but none left for their children.

“My king, I think it's high time we start looking for the princess again. After the first ransom note there was nothing else. I fear for her safety.”

Your father continues to scribble away at his paperwork, while your mother sits near the window with a cup of tea daintily in her hand. They look unbothered. They did stop looking for you.

“Don't worry about her, she has always been independent. I'm sure Robin Hood will grow tired of her and is about to give her up any moment now.” The queen says without missing a beat or a forlorn tone for her missing child. “What news does my son bring? Another grandson?”

“Which prince, my queen?”

“The one with the heavily pregnant wife, Jeeves.” She scoffs out, entirely forgetting about you, and your brother's name.

“Ah, my apologies. I heard that the baby girl was born healthy, but his wife is in dire condition. The prince is beside himself, in fact he requests for your presence—” Your father’s adviser says with a solemn tone.

“Pity.” She could only say.

You couldn't continue hearing her words and his lack of them. “Let's…” your eyes water, lips wobbling. “...we need to go.” Hobie calls your name softly, thumb pressing carefully on your shoulder blade, trying to calm you down. “I'm alright. Let's continue.” You ignore their looks of concern.

A heavy silence follows you and the crew, making your way towards the crown jewels through tear filled eyes, you manage to guide them in the room without getting lost. You shed off your cook uniform, donning the tiara you left with. Even without your gown, you hope that it's enough to convince the guards inside that it's still you.

“Stay here, I'll knock three times when they're gone.” You murmur.

“Are you— will you be alright?” Hobie asks gently, palm cupping your cheek.

You give him a weak smile. “I will be once we get what we came for.” Cracking the door open, you make your way inside before Hobie could express his concern.

—

The group lies in wait behind the closed door within the dark tunnel. The light from the torches are starting to burn out, leaving them with only the sunshine coming from the crack in the door for a shed of light.

The second Hobie's starting to get agitated and worried for you, he grabs the door knob with protests from his crew. But before he could open the door, he's met with you staring back at him.

“They're gone.” You say as you open the door wider for them. Sure enough, the only soul left in the room is you. “I told them that I escaped and for them to get the physician. It took some convincing but they eventually left.”

The others pat you in the back, eyes widening at the glittering jewels and crowns sitting on tables and shelves. But Hobie's eyes were only on you, hands already reaching for your own.

“You should go, I think we only have fifteen minutes before they march back here.” You try to walk away but Hobie holds onto you, fingers laced around your own, warmth helping you at ease. “Hobie, I'll be fine. Help the others.”

He glances at his crew who are efficiently working together by lock picking and grabbing the jewels that they can easily carry and transport. They're not blinded by the shining large crowns and scepters, but only taking whatever they can hold in their satchels. One precious stone could feed the whole village for a year, and one crown could provide for the whole city for six months.

“They can handle it, you said you needed to grab somethin'. Let me help you.”

You stare at his worried eyes. “It's not— are you sure?”

“Yes, you said fifteen minutes and we're already at thirteen. No time to lose, love.” His lips curl into a smile, hand bringing your own to his chest.

“My lucky number.”

—

Without wasting another minute, you arrive at your apartments. Its familiar purple walls take you back, your bed is made and fluffy, closet and desk clean as if you never left.

Hobie's hand is still grasping yours as if he's afraid that someone would snatch you away and drag you into the dark tunnels. His eyes roam around your room with a faint smile, he admires your portrait on the wall above the fireplace.

“D’you think if I nick this one I'll get away with it?”

“You're stealing from the crown and you think stealing my portrait would get you a bigger punishment?” You chuckle, letting go of his hand reluctantly to grab your satchel hidden under your bed.

“Yes, this is the real treasure right ‘ere.”

You poke your head from under the bed, meeting with his eyes and his wide grin. “If you keep saying stuff like that I'd think you're being genuine.” Going under again, you reach for the strap of your bag, and you finally grab it from under the dusty bed.

“When was I not genuine, hm?” You come out only to be met with his smirk. He flicks away a dust bunny clinging on your tiara while you gawk at him.

“You're not joking?”

“No,” he says seriously. “I meant everythin’ I've said and more.” Kneeling down, he fixes the tiara above your head. “Besides, I wanted a reminder of you once you're gone.”

“Do you want me to leave?” You reach for his jaw, thumb grazing along his stubble.

He could only smile, afraid that if he audibly said no, you won't go and do what you've always planned to do. He doesn't want to bar you from leaving or sway you into staying. It's your decision, and whatever you decide to do, he'll be right behind you.

Tears cling to your lashes as you caress his cheek. You want to stay, but not just for Hobie and the people you've grown to love. But also your subjects, your people that you could still help by staying. Something that you could not do if you left. You're conflicted. “You don't have to take the whole painting. I have a smaller one in my drawer.”

“Alright.” Hobie stands up despite his feelings swirling inside him. He helps you up, and follows you towards your desk.

You open a drawer, giving him a circular frame that contains an exact copy of your portrait. “To remind you of me. Or to sell it once you're bored of my face.” You joke.

“I’ll never get tired of your face.”

You have an intense urge to kiss him. Instead, you reign yourself in, “let's get back to the others. Then let's get the fuck out of here.” He nods in agreement. Before you could follow, you leave your letter that you've written days ago for your family. It contains everything you've wanted to say to them, every ire, and sorrow you could translate from ink to paper.

Hobie waits for you in the doorway, arm holding up the tapestry that hides the passageways. You look at him and you see your future, would it be selfish of you if you stayed? Or would it be better if you just left?

With one final look at your old life, you leave it all behind.

—

The clinking of silver and gold rings around the tunnel as you lead the group out of the castle. The smiles on their faces can't be wiped away even when the torch burned out a while ago and your only guide was the marks on the walls. Despite the hiccups, you all made it out into the beach in one piece and with bags full of jewelry enough to take care of everyone.

Ned hoots and hollers on the beach while Yuri lies on the sand with a huge grin on her lips. And James hides his sobs by laying face first on the beach while a crab tugs at his hair. The others are getting the loot on board the fishing boat while they sing a merry tune.

You watch them carry your family jewels with a fond smile. A brooch peeking from one of the bags catches your eye, it's the one piece of jewelry your mother is fond of, except for her crown. You know that it'll be used for a better cause now instead of gathering dust on the shelves.

Smiling, you hear Hobie's footsteps upon the sand. “Havin' second thoughts about your crown jewels?”

You shake your head. “No, none of them holds any sentimental value to me.” Reaching for your tiara, you hand it to him. “Even this one. Let Mayday play with it, I think she'll appreciate that.”

Hobie chuckles and sits down next to you while the others finish off loading the boat. His hand traces the emeralds and diamonds on your tiara before placing it gently on his lap. You see him take something from his pocket, which he immediately shows to you.

“Maybe this one will hold sentimental value.” A simple silver necklace hangs from his hand, you could cry from the sight of it. “It's not from your family. I bought it yesterday while we were in the city.”

“Is that why you were late?” You laugh with tears filling your eyes. Your fingers gently graze the chain, feeling the cold metal against your skin. The smile on your face hasn't faded. Recognition hits you, and your eyes immediately fly towards his neck where a similar silver chain rests upon his skin.

He doesn't only see the crown atop of your head. He sees you. And you truly see him as the one you would love until your dying breath.

Hobie notices your awed expression, “it's identical to mine. I would've gotten you a pendant to go with it—”

“Help put it on me?”

“Sure,” he tells you to turn around, smiling while his hands brush along your neck as he clasps the necklace on you. Once it's secured, his thumb hovers on your nape, eyes warm on your skin. “I— thank you for the help. I've got your papers ready, and if it weren't for you keepin’ your word—!” His words get smothered by your lips upon his own. Your kiss catches him off guard, eyes wide open, not knowing what to do with his hands, and lips not kissing back. You take it all as rejection.

You quickly lean away, “fuck— I'm sorry. I thought—”

He grabs your face, lopsided smile and lovestruck gaze staying on you. “You thought right, love.” His lips meet your own, within a second, you kiss in tandem as if you two were meant to be. He thinks so too.

The crew's claps interrupt you, even with their cheers (except for James) Hobie doesn't let your face go in his warm hands.

“Rule breaker!” Ned shouts with a proud smile.

“Fucking called it.” Yuri claps, “Janet owes me a coin.”

Hobie flips them the bird, all the while sharing your smile. He turns towards you again, eyes soft for you. “C’mon, before they attract the guard's attention.”

“Wait, Hobie.”

“Love—”

“Before this I had no purpose. I was just existing with a crown on my head.” You stand up and you help him up on his feet, with his other hand carrying your tiara. “I want to keep helping my people, I will not abandon them like they have.” You look up at the palace, its shadow encompassing you. “I see that now, thanks to you and them.” You address the crew behind him.

“Is that what you want?” Hobie cups your cheek, not even hiding the fact that he's happy about your decision. He still tries to hide it though. And he's failing miserably. “Just say the word and I'll take you to the docks—”

“I want to stay here with you. That's my plan.” You pull him by his bow strap that's over his shoulders, thumb placed on his clavicle. Eyes crinkling at the corners and incredibly lovestruck by the man before you. “Because I found my purpose right here.”

“As you wish, love.” With a smile, Hobie leans close for another kiss, one of many to come in your future with him, and part of his band of merry men.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @the-shroom-garden

[hippiepowrs]

weed smoking boyfriend

eddie munson x gn!reader

a/n: hi sorry i disappeared i had a lot going on but i could not miss this special day so here's a lil blurb for all who celebrate. idk if 420 was popularized by 86/87 but since it originated in 71 we're going to pretend, okay???

warnings: weed. a lot of weed smoking. r and eddie both very very stoned. fluff. established relationship. making out but nothing bad.

wc: 562

Eddie isn’t exactly a holiday guy. Sure, he likes a good day off from school or work, but he doesn’t love the capitalistic ideals that seeped their way into every holiday that could’ve been enjoyable to him. 

But Eddie will never, ever give up an excuse to get stoned off his ass. 

He’s lucky that Wayne will be out all day. Even if that man put up with a lot, Eddie would probably get his ass beat for hotboxing the entire fucking trailer. 

The two of you are on his bed. Eddie, sat against the headboard, and you on the foot of the bed, laying on your stomach. A foggy haze covers the entire room, a result of the nausea-inducing amount of weed the two of you have smoked. You went between joints and his bong, just to have some variety. 

Now, both of you lay there, absolutely blasted out of your minds, barely able to conjure up a single thought. 

“Baby,” he giggles, “do you think that, like,” he pauses, “I don’t know.” 

Thinking that he’s the pinnacle of comedy, you silently laugh so hard that tears form in the corners of your eyes. 

“Come here.” He puts out grabby hands towards you, urging you to lay next to him. 

Obliging his request, you crawl your way up the bed and lay your head right next to his, staring right into his sleepy eyes. 

“Your eyes are, like, so brown.” You say in awe, quickly devolving into yet another fit of giggles. 

“Yours are, like, uh, they’re really pretty?” He says, seemingly unsure of his words in his inflection. The goofy grin plastered on his face speaks differently, telling you he is totally infatuated with the way your eyes looked, looking at his own. 

His eyes dart down to your lips, signaling to you that he wants to kiss you—which you’re able to pick up on, no matter how high you are. 

The kiss is gentle, yet sloppy, the two of you so uncoordinated that spit is getting all over your faces. Eddie’s hands quickly find their place around your waist, pulling you on top of him as you begin to make out. 

Every touch feels like heaven. Your hands find his hair, scratching at his scalp, which causes Eddie to let out the most pathetic of moans you’ve ever heard in your life. 

“Mmm, love you.” He mumbles into the kiss, the words so slurred they can barely be made out. 

“Love you more.” You murmur back. Drowsiness begins to take over for the two of you, and the draw of sleep doesn’t take long to cause you two to pass out, lips still smushed against each other’s faces. 

The morning light comes in no time, shining through the curtains and directly onto your faces. Your drool is sticky on Eddie’s chin, still laying exactly how you fell asleep. 

Lifting your head, you wipe your chin in confusion. 

“Jesus Christ, babe, what the fuck happened last night?” You ask, still a little giggly from the pure volume you smoked. 

“Hmm?” He tries to act like he knows exactly what’s going on, but is too asleep to comprehend your words immediately. 

“Oh.” His fingers touch his chin, which is covered in mostly dry, but some wet, spit. “A lot of fun, I think.” His signature sleepy morning grin covering his face. 

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Under 1k Fics (2) Masterlist

part one, part three

Bite My Lip and Close My Eyes (ao3) - calumthomases (orphan_account) luke/ashton M, 471

Summary: Ashton didn't notice until there was a scene with a waterfall in it and Luke had gulped audibly. Ashton began to become aware of the younger boy's gentle squirming, his small whimpers whenever someone was drinking something, not to mention the little spurts of piss that leaked out occasionally.

Can I Lay By Your Side? (ao3) - aalexandravictoriaa luke/ashton G, 925

Summary: Ashton is having a bad day and Luke helps him feel like he's not losing himself.

Come On My Thigh (ao3) - orphan_account michael/ashton M, 871

Summary: Michael is horny and he rides Ashton's thigh.

That's it. Michael riding Ashton's thigh.

Coming Out (ao3) - Bri_5SOS Calum/Ashton NR, 790

Summary: Calum wants to come out and tell the boys that him and Ashton are dating, but Ashton doesn’t want to.

different? no thanks! (ao3) - orphan_account G, 923

Summary: When the band first offered me the drummer position, Ashton thinks, they should've told me it came with the 'caretaker of band/dad of band' role too.

i can feel it (ao3) - ideclifford luke/ashton N/R, 967

Summary: “Luke, untie me,” Ashton commanded, pulling at the rope binding his hands to the headboard of the bed. He had awoken mere minutes ago, and when he had attempted to stretch he had discovered that he couldn’t move.

“But Daddy,” Luke whined, kneeling on the side of the bed, “it’s your birthday, we gotta do something special.”

i’d still choose you (ao3) - IWillNotBeSilenced michael/luke T, 541

Summary: ‘I think I’m bisexual.’ 'Okay. That’s okay, Luke.’

In which Luke comes out, and his feelings are more important than Michael’s Playstation.

It's Not My Turn (ao3) - sorryuser michael/calum T, 693

Summary: Calum and Michael fight in an elevator. (it ends bery kinky)

(let them hear you) (ao3) - cyclogenesis (addictedkitten) michael/calum E, 693

Summary: "I'll give you a blowjob. I'll do it." (Based on this keek.)

magnetic, everything about you. (ao3) - spicylarrie michael/luke G, 676

Summary: luke's sick so michael wants to make him feel better.

Make It Okay (ao3) - masterof_ravenkroft G, 654

Summary: Calum has a headache, the boys look after him.

nothing comes as easy as you (ao3) - shrdmdnssftw luke/ashton M, 978

Summary: "Shhh," Ashton says, pulling off for a moment to berate Luke. "Vocal rest, remember?"

He pushes at Luke's hips, pinning them to the couch again, and goes back down like it's nothing.

(Not) So Straight (ao3) - drummer_boy G, 696

Summary: Michael comes out to Calum in the most casual way possible.

Remembering the summer, it takes me back (ao3) - zephyrusnico luke/ashton NR, 995

Summary: ’Luke looks at the picture of them and he remembers the day it was taken, remembers the days and the memories before and after that day. He thinks about how he remembers the day that has long since been erased from Ashton’s mind, never to be remembered by him again.’

Rules of the Band (ao3) - softirwin luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 564

Summary: In retrospect, it’s kind of Ashton’s fault that it all starts.

He’d eaten the last of the Vegemite, something he knows Michael and Calum feel very strongly about, and it had resulted in a sheet of paper pinned to the fridge by a frog magnet that had ‘Rules of the Band’ scrawled in Calum’s handwriting at the top.

Rules of the Band

      NOBODY WILL EAT THE LAST OF THE VEGEMITE!!!

that’ll do the trick (ao3) - heartbreakgirl michael/luke G, 802

Summary: “Oh my God, just kiss already!”

And Luke’s surprised to find out the idea doesn’t even remotely disgust him. Besides, kissing is a genius and proven way of shutting a person up and right now Michael’s yelling about how utterly gross and impossible the suggestion was and how he’d rather have his balls chopped clean off, and Luke can’t think of a better way to get him to put a sock in it.

This Should be Fun (ao3) - HellishHerondales michael/luke E, 489

Summary: Michael hates Luke, so that totally explains why he’s touching himself, calling out Luke’s name.

Torturous Electricity. (ao3) - smokeynights michael/luke N/R, 198

Summary: Luke and Michael hate eachother a lot of the time.

to save me from tears (ao3) - ashtonsbabygurl luke/ashton G, 702

Summary: it's christmas and luke is sad because he's sick, so ashton cuddles away his hurt.

Waking Up Is Hard To Do (ao3) - littleficlets (addictedkitten) OT4 T, 363

Summary: Ashton knew this would probably happen the minute they decided to pile into the same bed to watch a movie last night.

[evanspresso]

First time parents

a/n: I don't see them having children but this was requested! Not sure how many of these ones I'll make.

Usually in the early hours, Evan and y/n lie with one another, cuddling close with soft lingering kisses and tender loving whisperers of confession’s and desires that they’ll carry with them for the rest of the day. 

Soft fingertips against bare spots of skin with hums and yawns fill the air between them, with the occasional giggle of two.

It’s different now, the couple no longer wakes up to the peace and quiet, there’s no longer trailing kisses and there’s rarely any fumbling around in the sheets. 

There’s a new peace. A peace where giddy but sleepy parents wake up to the sound of tiny baby noises. If they’re lucky they don’t wake up to the sound of crying, but that depends on the day.

Y/n gets up first- her motherly instincts snapping her out of dream land. She doesn’t hear any cries from the crib across the room, it’s too early for the baby to sleep in her own room just yet so the couple finds it easier to have the baby sleep in their room for late night feeds and diaper changes.

“My sunbeam” Y/n coos, peering over the crib to see the bundle of joy in question.

She scoops her into her arms and kisses the Wren’s forehead. Coddling her in her arms, y/n is pleasantly surprised that she seems happy and not in any form of distress, so she decides to do a quick diaper change before heading back into bed with Wren still in her arms.

Y/n places Wren in between her and Evan, sighing quietly once her head hits the pillow, her index finger clinging to Wren’s palm as she makes her sweet little baby yawn.

Y/n’s eyes flutter towards her sleeping lover and she can’t help but smile in content and adoration as she watches the rise and fall of his chest, soft snores coming out of his lips causing her to giggle softly before she peers down at her baby girl and kisses her small button nose.

The light is peering through the windows now and the birds are chirping in the warm summer breeze causing Evan to stir from his slumber. 

A little hand whacks his cheek forcing his eyes to snap open to find his beautiful baby girl waving her arms in excitement next to him, her mommy holding out a toy above her.

“Yes Wren, it’s a giraffe! Can you say it? g-i-r-a-f-f-e” y/n spells out and says it slowly.

“You don’t think it’s kind of early for her to start speaking?” Evan chuckles, his voice is raspy from a good nights sleep.

Y/n bites her lip in embarrassment, not knowing she had woken him up. His eyes beam at the sight of her flushed cheeks before he peers down at Wren and scoops her onto his chest as he sits up.

Wren makes gargling noise which causes the two into a set of giggles and swoons. Y/n leans over and places her lips against the exposed skin of Evan’s shoulder making him shudder at the contact of her perfect lips.

“It’s never too early” y/n mumbles.

“We already know she’s going to say ‘dada’ first” he muses.

Y/n glares at him, playfully scolding him with a shake of her head, his laugh rings through the room and Wren fusses signaling them that it’s time to feed her.

“I’m the one who actually gave birth, so mommy should be the first word!” y/n says holding her arms out for Drew to hand the baby over.

“But I’m the one who actually-”

“Don’t even say what I think you’re gonna say, Ev she’s right here!” y/n cuts him off before he can finish.

She lifts up her shirt so she can start to breastfeed Wren as Evan playfully rolled his eyes, laying his head against the headboard to cross his arms over his chest as he watches.

“She can’t actually understand y/n.”

“Zip it,” she smiles at him before looking down and adjusting her hold on the baby. “Oh! She’s a hungry girl this morning!” y/n says with wide eyes.

Evan smiles brightly and sits up to inspect the tight grip that Wren has causing both of them to get all giddy and rave about how strong she is, and what a good girl she’s being.

“Such a good girl for mommy.” Evan coos before looking up to see y/n’s glossy eyes.

“Our perfect girl.”

“A literal sunbeam,” Evan nods. “I love you so much.” he suddenly says, bending over to kiss y/n’s lips softly.

“So, so much” y/n hums.

-

a/n: reposts, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

[softboydrew]

UR WRITING IS SO SO SO CUTE!! please do some more like dad drew stuff 🥺

Usually in the early hours, Drew and y/n lie with one another, cuddling close with soft lingering kisses and tender loving whisperers of confession's and desires that they’ll carry with them for the rest of the day.

Soft fingertips against bare spots of skin with hums and yawns fill the air between them, with the occasional giggle of two.

It’s different now, the couple no longer wakes up to the peace and quiet, there’s no longer trailing kisses and there’s rarely any fumbling around in the sheets.

There’s a new peace. A peace where giddy but sleepy parents wake up to the sound of tiny baby noises. If they’re lucky they don’t wake up to the sound of crying, but that depends on the day.

Y/n gets up first- her motherly instincts snapping her out of dream land. She doesn’t hear any cries from the crib across the room, it’s too early for the baby to sleep in her own room just yet so the couple finds it easier to have the baby sleep in their room for late night feeds and diaper changes.

“My sunbeam” Y/n coos, peering over the crib to see the bundle of joy in question.

She scoops her into her arms and kisses the Wren's forehead. Coddling her in her arms, y/n is pleasantly surprised that she seems happy and not in any form of distress, so she decides to do a quick diaper change before heading back into bed with Wren still in her arms.

Y/n places Wren in between her and Drew, sighing quietly once her head hits the pillow, her index finger clinging to Wren's palm as she makes her sweet little baby yawn.

Y/n's eyes flutter towards her sleeping lover and she can’t help but smile in content and adoration as she watches the rise and fall of his chest, soft snores coming out of his lips causing her to giggle softly before she peers down at her baby girl and kisses her small button nose.

The light is peering through the windows now and the birds are chirping in the warm summer breeze causing Drew to stir from his slumber.

A little hand whacks his cheek forcing his eyes to snap open to find his beautiful baby girl waving her arms in excitement next to him, her mommy holding out a toy above her.

“Yes Wren, it’s a giraffe! Can you say it? g-i-r-a-f-f-e” y/n spells out and says it slowly.

“You don’t think it’s kind of early for her to start speaking?” Drew chuckles, his voice is raspy from a good nights sleep.

Y/n bites her lip in embarrassment, not knowing she had woken him up. His eyes beam at the sight of her flushed cheeks before he peers down at Wren and scoops her onto his chest as he sits up.

Wren makes gargling noise which causes the two into a set of giggles and swoons. Y/n leans over and places her lips against the exposed skin of Drew's shoulder making him shudder at the contact of her perfect lips.

“It’s never too early” y/n mumbles.

“We already know she’s going to say ‘dada’ first” Drew muses.

Y/n glares at him, playfully scolding him with a shake of her head, his laugh rings through the room and Wren fusses signaling them that it’s time to feed her.

“I’m the one who actually gave birth, so mommy should be the first word!” y/n says holding her arms out for Drew to hand the baby over.

“But I’m the one who actually-”

“Don’t even say what I think you're gonna say, Drew she’s right here!” y/n cuts him off before he can finish.

She lifts up her shirt so she can start to breastfeed Wren as Drew playfully rolled his eyes, laying his head against the headboard to cross his arms over his chest as he watches.

“She can’t actually understand y/n.”

“Zip it,” she smiles at him before looking down and adjusting her hold on the baby. “Oh! She’s a hungry girl this morning!” y/n says with wide eyes.

Drew smiles brightly and sits up to inspect the tight grip that Meadow has causing both of them to get all giddy and rave about how strong she is, and what a good girl she’s being.

“Such a good girl for mommy.” Drew coos before looking up to see y/n's glossy eyes.

“Our perfect girl.”

“A literal sunbeam,” Drew nods. “I love you so much.” he suddenly says, bending over to kiss y/n's lips softly.

“So, so much” y/n hums.

-

a/n: reposts, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

taglist: @pogueslandia @carolineworld @estrellarimar @jemimah-b99 @thinkofmehlgh @drewstrkeys @hoellandstarkeytch

[writersblog20]

Night Terrors

Tom Hiddleston x reader.

Not my gif! Credits to the owner!

Summary: you have a movie night at RDJ’s house with the entire marvel cast and it turns out in a sleepover. You and Tom were very close from the beginning. Everyone knew you found yourself in a hard time and they were always there for you. But when you all fell asleep you were cruelly awakened by a nasty nightmare. Tom tries his best to comfort you.

Warnings: Angst, ptsd (in my experience because everyone experience ptsd differently.), night terrors, passing of a loved one. Age-gap but definitely legal! Reader is about 24. Nudity but not sexual and a lot of comfort

Words: 3,3K

 It was a Saturday night and RDJ invited the whole marvel cast for a nice bbq and a movie night over his house. You were an beginning actress as well and this was your first big role. You did on the other hand directed a lot of small films which gave you an identity on it’s own. People loved the movies that you wrote and directed and loved to see you play in one. You were actually interested in acting as well so you took the opportunity with both hands when Marvel asked you to play in a movie.

You met Tom, Benedict and Sebastian already. They all acted separately in your movies. But the closest connection you had with Tom. You actually developed a huge crush on the British actor but you thought he saw you as a little sister. Not only that but you started working together as well.

Tom would pick you up to go to RDJ’s house together. You heard your doorbell go off and opened the door seeing a smiling Tom. “Hey Tom!” you said excited and he pulled you in a big hug. “Hello love, how are you doing?” he asked you. “I’m trying.” You told him and he gave you a weak smile. “I actually called my godmother today…” you told him. “really? How did it go?” he asked you. “We talked for about an hour and a half. It was very hard. I was becoming emotional but I didn’t want to cry…. Still in my system I guess.” You told him while he listened intently. “I’m so proud of you. I bet it was hard. But you are making so much progress and you’re really trying. You’re so strong and such a strong woman.” He told you giving you a hug. You nuzzled into his sweater. “Thank you Tom.” You told him.

Everyone knew you had a difficult time with the passing of your godfather. You always saw him as your father since your biological dad was a shithead to say nicely. So when he passed it was a big shock for everyone. It was sudden and unexpected. It also triggered your ptsd. You were always very open about mental health but at this moment it was a very hard time for you. The whole cast was there for you but Tom was always there and could read you like an open book. Which scared you as well because you were afraid that he would know about your secret crush on him.

When it happened you were all alone and tried to stay strong for your family like he asked you and so you did. Then came the roll around which he knew about and you promised him you would take him to the premiere. So with the premiere around the corner you felt yourself crumbling down. besides that you never really had time to process everything and try to heal from what happened. So when you were having a big breakdown one day, they all found out what was happening. Tom spend a lot of time with you after that. More than he already had. He was determined to never let you be alone again in one difficult moment.

You got your stuff and your present for RDJ and hopped in the car with Tom. He obviously helping you as the gentleman that he is. You chatted for a while about funny things and you told him you were writing a new script for a movie. “maybe you can read it sometime if you want and let me know what you think?” you asked him carefully. Tom’s heart filled itself with love that you trusted him enough to let him read your new script. “I would love to!” he told you honestly and you smiled while looking at the road.

Once arrived RDJ opened the door and hugged you tightly. You walked into the big house and saw that a lot of the cast was already there and you hugged them all. “oh I brought you something!” you told RDJ. “oh you didn’t have to!” he told you while gripping the present and opening it with a big smile. “can’t come empty handed! They raised me differently” you told him giggling. “You see! You can all take a note from Y/N here!” he told the marvel cast who were laughing. You made him a painting. Ever since he saw how you painted he wanted one and wouldn’t shut up about it so you thought this was the perfect time. “it’s absolutely beautiful y/n” he told you mesmerized by the painting. He pulled you in a big hug. “we’ll find a nice place to hang it up together later.” He told you softly which made you smile.

You all took a seat and started to eat. You all had laughs and sat outside in the evening. His garden was beautiful. There were fairy lights to make it cozy and a fire was burning. You sat contently staring at the fire in silence. Tom noticed that you had gotten more silent and he laid his hand on top of yours, looking at you. You got out of the daze and looked at Tom, immediately meeting his blue eyes. He smiled sweetly at you and took your hand in his now. his thumb caressing the top of your hand. You felt your cheeks heat up. he wasn’t planning on letting your hand go anytime soon.

After an hour you all decided to go inside to watch a movie on his big tv screen. The cast started to bicker over what movie to watch while RDJ tapped you on your shoulder and hinted to walk with him. You walked in the hallway with him and he looked around. “what about that place?” he asked you while holding the painting. He nudged to the end of the hall where everyone could see it. “are you sure?” you giggled and he looked strict at you. “Look what you made! Of course I’m sure!” he told you dramatically which made you giggle. “Then it’s a beautiful place” you both hang the painting on the wall. RDJ took a selfie with you, him and the painting before returning to the group.

You sat next to Tom and Chris E. Tom smiled lovingly at you and softly placed his hand on your knee. There were mattresses laying on the floor where the other half of the cast laid down. RDJ had a very big couch so there was enough space for all of you. You snuggled against Tom who laid his arm around you pulling you closer. It didn’t take long before you grew very tired. The others felt the same, some left to go home like Paul Rudd, Mark R and Paul Bettany since they lived close by. a couple of others could stay in the guestrooms but you rather stay downstairs.

When everyone settled the TV still played some background noise. You were now laying with your back to Tom but turned around. Tom watched you intently, getting his arm a little of you so you could turn. You laid now face to face with Tom and he smiled softly once again at you and kissed the top of your head. Chris E softly petted your hair for relaxation. Tom held you close to him with his arms wrapped around you. You rested your head against his chest and fell into a deep sleep.

~time skip~

You were woken up abruptly by people shaking you awake. You shoot up sweating. Tears filling your eyes once you remembered the nightmare. You were breathing heavily and looked around erratically. Chris E shushed you while Tom held you tightly while rocking you back and forth. You were wet from all the sweating. “hey shs it was a nightmare. You’re okay now.” Chris E told you. Tom placed his lips on the top of your head while keeping a protected grip on you. “You were calling for your godfather.” Chris E told you. Anthony came back from the kitchen with a glass of water and gave it to you. You now saw how concerned they all looked. Seb rested his hand on your knee while his thumb rubbed drew circles. You thanked Anthony but you really didn’t liked all the attention you were getting right now. “sorry for waking you all up.” they chuckled slightly “Don’t worry about it, we’re here for you y/n” Seb said. You pushed the tears away and Tom noticed that you were keeping it all in again. “why don’t we go outside for a minute? I think some fresh air would do you good.” Tom asked you and you nodded.

You got up and whished them a goodnight sleep so they wouldn’t wait up. Tom got a blanket and walked behind you. once outside Tom placed you on a chair and you looked up at the stars feeling the tears slip. He took your hand in his. “what was the dream about?” he asked carefully. You told him about your dream while crying. You tried to let everything out. Once you were done Tom stood up without saying anything and stretched out his hand for you. You looked up questionable with puffy eyes. he gave you a warm smile and you took his hand. RDJ had a sort of bed outside. It was more for the pool but there was a mattress with curtains. You smiled at the thought of how good Tom knew you. You didn’t want to go inside anymore and he seemed to get that. Luckily it wasn’t very cold outside.

You sat down on the lounge bed. Tom pulled you a little back so you both sat against the headboard. “I never knew him, only from the stories you told me and I believe full heartedly that he is so unbelievable proud of you. Of the woman you became and becoming, everything that you did and overcame and still the things you are working on. We can all see that and we all have so much respect for you. You are a role model for a whole lot of people! It’s okay to feel these feelings but you need to keep talking about them.” You felt tears slipping. He wrapped the blanket around himself and then around you which made you scoot closer to him. “he’s watching over you. I’m sure and he’s looking over you with probably the biggest smile.” You both laid down and looked at the stars. “Thank you Tom. For being there for me every time.” He looked at you. “Of course love” you stared at the stars with teary eyes while Tom kept looking at you.

Once you calmed down you said: “Tom, you’re staring.” While keeping your gaze at the stars. He smiled. “you’re more beautiful to look at.” He bluntly told you. You never turned your head faster than in that moment. He just smiled softly at you while you screened his face. He laid his head closer to yours. “do you mean that?” you asked him softly while looking down shyly. “I never say something I don’t mean y/n” you stayed silent in disbelieve. “I eh really like you.” he told you with a blush creeping on his cheek. You looked deeply into his eyes. “I really like you too Tom.” He smiled and came closer until your lips connected. His hand rested on your cheek. He gave you the lead at the moment and you took that opportunity to deepen the kiss. He rolled partly on top of you while leaning on his elbow, his other hand now going to your waist and rubbed with his thumbs your side.

You both pulled back and heard Sebastian and Chris H and E scream “Finally!!!” before going back inside which made you both laugh in embarrassment. You laid down on his chest while Tom kissed the top of your head. “Do you maybe want to be my girlfriend?”  he asked carefully which made you chuckle at the way he asked you, like a teenager in love. “I would like that” you said while lifting your gaze to look up at him and gave him a big kiss on his lips which made Tom sigh through the kiss in containment.

~time skip~

You woke up from clicking. It sounded like someone was taking pictures. You squeezed your eyes shut tight because of the sun but saw Chris H taking pictures along side RDJ. “so we can show your kids once you get them.” RDJ said casually. You chuckled. Tom sighed getting out of his slumber his arm tightened around your middle scooting you closer. “Awa let’s give these lovebirds some time to wake up, we made you both some coffee.” Chris H told you while pointing towards the warm mugs. “Thank you.” You told them giggling a little. Once they left you turned around to face Tom. He still had his eyes closed and your fingers traveled along his facial features. “Good morning love” he told you still with his eyes closed but with a smile. “good morning handsome.” He opened his eyes and smiled lovingly at you while connecting your lips again. You cuddled into his side. “this is nice” you told him. “It really is. Now I don’t mind waking up” he told you which made you chuckle.

Once you both got up you all had breakfast together and decided it was a nice warm day to go swimming. Tom brought you home so you could pick up your stuff and off you went to the beach. You all laid down in the soft sand and chatted away and shared funny stories. You all decided to take a swim. Once in the boys started a water fight. Scarlett sat on the shoulders of Chris E and you were on the shoulder of Tom. You both tried to push each other off but both fell in the process. Now it was the turn of the boys. Sebastian on the shoulders of Chris E and Anthony on the shoulders of Chris H. It took a while but in the end Sebastian fell and Anthony cheered which made you giggle.

You started swimming a little with Tom by your side. You were on his back while he slowly swam back and forth. You got off of his back and put both of your legs around his waist and hugged him tightly. He grabbed your chin to give you a kiss. Once you both got a little tired of swimming you both got out and dried up.

After a nice day at the beach you were tired out. Especially because of the night before. Tom brought you home. “Tom…? Can you please stay with me tonight?” you asked him softly. “of course love, let me grab my stuff and I’ll be back in an hour” he told you and gave you a kiss before you got out of the car.

You in the meanwhile cleaned your house a little and made your bed and took a shower to get all the sand off of you. You were done just in time for Tom to come. You opened the door and you saw that he showered as well. then your sight fell on the bottle of wine he brought and a brown back. “I went to the store and got us some snacks.” You smiled and let him in. He put everything on your kitchen counter. You poured you both a generous amount of wine and plopped on the couch. You put on a movie for you both to watch. After you drank the wine and ate some snacks you became even more tired. “Let’s get you to bed.” Tom told you. He took your hand and turned off all the lights.

You both got ready for bed and got in. “Tom? Can you maybe read to me?” you asked him shyly but he knew his voice calmed you down and it wouldn’t be the first time that he would read for you. “of course sweetheart.” He started to read to you while you laid in his arms and you softly drifted off to fall asleep in yet another night terror.

You sat up suddenly, breathing heavy and once again sweating. Tom softly sat up next to you and rubbed your back. “I’m sorry.” You told him feeling guilty and out of breath. “It’s okay love really. Don’t worry about that I’m here for you” Once you regained a steady breathing he asked you “ Let’s take a shower okay?” you nodded and he took your hand and lead you to your own bathroom. “I’ll wait outside okay?” but the thought of being alone scared you a lot at this moment giving you an anxiety attack. “No Tom please stay.” You begged saying it a little too fast for your own liking. “I’m sorry if you feel comfortable with that.” You told him again and he gave you a soft smile.  You both stripped out of your clothes. “I can keep my underwear on if you’d like.” He told you not trying to make you feel uncomfortable in any situation. “No it’s fine, if you’re okay with it.” you told him and he nodded. He stripped out of his boxers and you out of your underwear.

You looked at each other but at the moment it wasn’t sexual but more for comfort. He stepped in the shower first and took your hand helping you in. you the shower on and Tom massaged your head you turned around and rested your head on his shoulder while he put his arms around you. You started to cry. You felt so safe that you had all the space for your feelings. Tom hushed you while giving kisses on your head. Trying to give you comfort. You stood there for a good while just hugging each other. When you calmed down you both got out and Tom dried you off. “You are absolutely gorgeous.” He told you kissing your shoulder. You looked up at him and you made eye contact. He slowly held your face in his hands and gave you a soft kiss that turned passionately. Before anything could go further you both stopped. He helped you in his shirt and got into bed again.

Everything he did, he did with so much care and love that it was something you’ve never experienced before and it was heavenly. You laid both face to face and just looked at each other. His thumb softly caressing your cheek. You both didn’t have to exchange words, everything said it all. You went with your fingers over his features again while looking in his eyes. It held so much love and adoration that it felt you up with love.  “forever” he said softly “forever you said back and he smiled. It said it all, you were both an open book for each other and it felt like you’ve read that book a hundreds of times and you knew each line. That was how good your connection was. An beautiful antique book with it’s wrinkles and faded lines. Handled with love and care and reading it over and over again never getting tired of the story as the letters danced on the pages.

You looked at Tom and you both kissed each other falling this time in a peaceful sleep in the arms of the man you love the most and he in the arms of the woman he loves the most.

[lilxberry]

NSFW Alphabet - Jughead Jones*

NSFW Alphabet Version

Fic Relating To Kink: COMING SOON

Warnings: NSFW obviously. Mentions of SMUT. Contains sexual gifs that may include nudity.

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

God, he’s so soft and sweet. He takes such good care of you, softly asking if you’re okay, if you need anything or just plainly whispering sweet words into your ear as you come down from both your highs.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jughead likes his hands for many reasons. There’s surprisingly quite a difference in size compared to yours and they cover a large area of your skin when he kneads and squeezes and grips at your thighs when things heat up between you. Plus, he can certainly pleasure you well with them *wink wonk*

Now, he absolutely loves, LOVES, your thighs. It’s pretty obvious from the amount of touching. Jughead loves to tease you by subtly placing his hand a bit to high up on them, giving them a quick squeeze before massaging his thumb across it, sending tingles straight through your being and a heat rushing straight to your core.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I mean, you’re both still in high school so you’re pretty careful. Some form of contraception is in play usually. It’s rare you take the risk of pulling out but, when you do, God he loves the sight of it covering your ass and the small of your back or covering your thighs and abdomen.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Jughead honestly can’t get enough of you sat in his lap facing him, running your hands through his hair, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, warming his cock as he writes.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s experienced, but only in so many ways. He can definitely hit the right spot when it comes to missionary but, throw in a position that’s new for him and it becomes a very important learning curve in your relationship.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

He kinda loves it when you’re on top, riding him at any pace that you set. When he’s pretty pissed or needs to release some pent-up energy/anger, he can go pretty primal and dominant, pounding into you vicariously but usually, you’re on top, whispering sweet words to each other.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s pretty serious when it comes to your intimacy but, that doesn’t mean there aren’t moments where he won’t make you laugh a smidge, and vice versa.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Jughead is more on the natural side, but only because there isn’t really any grooming nessicary. You both agree that you’re comfortable with how everything is maintained in both of your lower areas.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Jug is super romantic. I mean, he’s an author for God’s sake. Even if the pace or position isn’t exactly one that would “sweep you off your feet”, his words definitely will.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s human. He’s a warm-blooded male that has serious levels of testosterone. Of course, he masturbates. Granted, it practically never happens anymore, especially since he barely did so when single.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jug enjoys marking you and being marked. Not to an extreme, of course. Light scratches, gentle biting, light spanking on your ass and the back of your thighs, nothing that leaves visual evidence for more than a few days.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s usually over yours and desk and bed are usually the surfaces you find yourselves doing it on a lot. You’ve had the sneaky session at school, but nothing compares to the comfort and privacy at home.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, so many things could get this boy going when it comes to you. When you’re angry, when you’re making huge breaks in cases that you work on together, when you throw your leg over him when you’re cuddling and watching a movie, when you cross your leg over the other and show them off slightly. Anything you do could get his motor running.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Jughead absolutely hates the prospect of sharing, even just visually.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

You two actually don’t take part in oral as often as the usual expected when it comes to sexually active teens. You two are rather good at it but prefer to feel each other in other ways.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It’s all dependant on mood, position and occasion, along with time. Usually, like mentioned before, when you’re on top, you usually set the pace, with the occasional assistance from him.

You tend to go slow and sensual, but if your limited with time or your in a particular mood, it can definitely be quickened.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Definitely not opposed it them, especially with everything going on in Riverdale. You never know when you can get interrupted. Snap thrusts of his cock and quickened circles around your clit and you’re all set for a quick session before you have to go meet the gang.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Risk taking isn’t a huge part within your sex lives as it is in your everyday lives. Jughead and you both agreed that less risk is definitely good.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t game to experiment. Maybe a new position you are yet to try, maybe something that usually isn’t found within the bedroom brought in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can actually go for a good 3 rounds with enough time to cool off in-between. Obviously, if you haven’t participated in such activities in length of time, it’s usually one and both you and Jughead are done. Although, that singular one round can definitely be long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any, and you only really have a single bullet vibrator. He usually isn’t around when it’s put to use but, it can definitely come into play when you guys do phone sex. Plus, he thinks he does a better job than a little toy. (Which he does.)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

OH BOY DOES HE TEASE. He whispers absolute pure filth when in public while he smirks ever so smugly. His touch is like fire when he does this. Any little touch feels searing hot, and you feel weak at the knees. You undoubtedly become putty in his hands and it just becomes a game of how long you can hold out until you’re both alone.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Apart from the sweet talk while inside of you, Jughead is a grunter. His grunts are deep which only egg you on further.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would love to be dominated fully. He loves his power over you in the bedroom, even when you’re on top, he’s still relatively in control. So, the thought of you taking charge, even tying his hands to the headboard of the bed all the while you control when he cums is something that really gets him going.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Jughead is pretty average but that doesn’t lower the quality of pleasure he gives you. It seems he’s just the perfect size for you, hitting all of the right spots.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Although he never masturbated a lot, his sex drive is definitely high. Sex is a very common occurrence within your relationship.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If the day had been tiring, yeah, you’re both pretty prone to falling asleep quickly. The two of you do enjoy just softly talking between you both whilst cuddling when you can, though.

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If you would like to be tagged in the up-coming fic related to this post, just let me know

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

[solarviolet]

angel • sirius black

your halloween costume drives him a little mad

word count : 1836

do not READ or INTERACT with this if you're not 18+, i will block you <3

warnings : daddy kink, kind of innocence kink?, swearing, crying (idk if i've missed anything else out?)

a/n : this took so long to type out on my phone but i did it at last! i hope you all like it <3 my smut writing skills are little rusty so hopefully this is good :) here you go sof, for you baby @gxtitobxby *mwah*

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it's the night of the gryffindor halloween party.

you're in sirius's dorm getting dressed into your costume. it had taken a long time to decide on one but you found the perfect one at last. it was inspired by your boyfriend's petname for you.

angel.

he always called you his "little angel". the name making you feel warm and giddy inside. the costume is perfect, down to all the small details. it's soft, white and dreamy. your wings being the perfect addition to it. you know that as soon as sirius sees you, he'll go crazy.

it's the type of costume that'll drive him to the brink of insanity.

you fluff out your hair and make sure your makeup is ready, when a knock is heard throughout the room.

"come in" you shout through your side of the door. ensuring that the person can hear you over the loud music coming from the common room. turning your head, you watch as sirius walks in through the door.

his head is down as he twirls his wand in his hands. "hey angel are you r-" his voice trails off as he pauses and gets a good look at you. jaw dropping open, eyes wide with shock as he stares at you. his eyes rake over every inch of your body, making sure to take every single detail in.

you gasp as his eyes lock onto yours. eyes dark with heavy desire and devilish smirk resting on his lips.

sirius's hand comes up and his finger does a twirling motion. "come on angel, do a little spin for me"

"show me that pretty little costume you have on"

you let out a giggle and do as he asks. slowly twirling to ensure he gets a good look at every part of you.

his breath hitches as you spin, your skirt hiking up to reveal your white cotton panties. showing off your innocence, making his heart beat wildly in his chest.

sirius whistles lowly, as you come to a stop, shyly fiddling with your fingers. "you look so damn good angel"

"so fucking amazing"

you stare at his face, taking in every reaction he makes. he bites his lower lip which causes you to clench your thighs together, the action not going unnoticed by sirius as he chuckles at you.

he motions you towards him with a finger and you walk to him slowly, your fingers playing with the hem of your white dress. standing in front of him, you look down at your feet.

his hand comes up to your chin and tilts your head up. making you look up at him. sirius smirks when he sees the desire floating in your eyes. your actions give off an air of innocence while your face says something different.

he coos down at you, rubbing your noses together. "don't you look like a pretty little angel. my pretty little angel. all dressed up for me"

sirius's thumb rubs your lower lip, pulling it down, making you gasp. he shoves his thumb in your mouth, a gasp leaving from your lips as you stare at him with wide eyes. you suck his thumb slowly, keeping eye contact with him.

he groans as you kitten lick his thumb, showing off your so called 'innocence'.

he knows you're anything but that, always turning into his little slut when he gets his hands on you. everyone else knew of you as a shy, innocent little girl.

what a lie that is.

sirius grabs your hand, bringing it down to his cock, making you feel the hardness. "god, can you feel how hard you make me, angel?"

"you feel it? that's all for you little girl ... just for you"

your hand rubs him slowly through his pants, groans leaving his mouth as you carry on. suddenly he has enough and he grabs on to your upper arms and pushes you onto the wall, gasps leaving you at the sudden change of position.

his hands slip under the strap of your dress, inching towards your breasts. hands gliding over your nipples making you gasp and wiggle in his grip. sirius slowly plays with them, turning them into hard peaks before he starts to pinch them. his actions causing whines to leave you.

"you're daddy's angel aren't you pretty girl?"

your breath hitches as words fail to leave your mouth. his hand comes up to land a soft slap on your cheek causing a moan to slip past your lips.

"c'mon say it, tell me you're daddy's angel" he coos down at you. his hands keep on pinching your nipples harshly causing them to get swollen under his attention.

"i-i- i'm y-your angel!"

he smirks at your voice, it's whiny and breathless.

"who's angel are you, say it!"

"d-daddy's angel! 'm all yours daddy"

he pushes his lips onto yours, swallowing all the whines and moans that leave your red lips. his hands run down your dress, pushing it up towards your hips when he reaches the frilled hem. fingers inching towards your panties. he can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs. sirius pulls them aside and moves to rub your clit in soft circles.

gasps escape you as pleasure runs through your body. feeling overwhelmed you try to escape him. sirius chuckles at your actions and pins you down harder to the wall.

"shhh, you can't escape me angel. you're just going to have to take all of it, don't you?" he tells you with a grin.

"i-i i can't ... it's t-too much for-" your voice cracks as the pleasure overwhelms you. he laughs as your eyes roll back into your head.

"it's okay angel, let go for me, i've got you, pretty girl"

you shudder as your release rushes through your body, shivering and shaking as you let it happen. tears run down your face as sirius coos down at you, trying to calm you down from your orgasm.

"you're okay pretty girl, i got you, shhh"

you melt into his arms as he carries you towards his bed. he lays you down as he stands back up, watching you while he unbuttons his trousers. you stare at him through hooded eyes, chest heaving up and down.

sirius pushes his boxers down and lays down next to you. leaning up against headboard he motions for you to climb into his lap. you move slowly, making him groan. he grabs you and pushes you onto his lap, not being able to wait a second longer.

whines come out of your mouth as you feel his cock press up against your sensitive pussy. you wiggle and try to get him to ease up but he just chuckles at you. grasping your hips, ensuring that you can't move away.

"c'mon angel, ride me. i want to feel that pretty little pussy wrapped around my cock"

your face heats as you pull yourself up. your hand holds onto his cock, pushing into your pussy. groans are all that can be heard as he bottoms out in you. making you feel lightheaded at the fullness.

"you feel so good, sirius. so good" your voice is high pitched as you steady yourself on his lap.

"go on then, get at it angel, ride daddy"

you slowly grind down on him, getting into a rhythm. hands planted onto his chest while you ride him. sirius moves to grip your hips, making you bounce up and down on him.

sirius grabs the straps of your dress and pulls them down, your breasts popping out, making a groan leave his mouth. he licks his lips as he stares at them, watching them bounce as you ride him.

your hair is a mess from where he's been tugging at it. lips bruised and swollen from the harsh kisses he gave you. tears fall down your face as the pleasure overwhelms you.

"s-so good, angel. so good for daddy, i can feel you getting close"

sirius can feel you clench down on him as your second orgasm reaches closer. he snakes a hand down to your clit, trying to push you into it.

you shudder as your release rushes through your body. your orgasm triggers his and you both moan. the pleasure taking over the both of you.

he keeps on rubbing your clit prolonging your orgasm until you can't take it anymore, slumping onto his chest.

your breathing is loud as you try to get your racing heart to calm down. sirius presses kisses onto your hair as runs his hand up and down your back.

"shhh angel, it's okay, i've got you. it's all okay"

slowly your breath calms, you begin to breathe much better and you get up, rolling off of him and laying on the bed. "i love you sirius, i love you so much, you're amazing"

sirius chuckles at your words. "i love you too angel, you're my world ... actually screw that, you're my universe, you know that right?"

you giggle at him. "yeah i know, you never forget to mention it"

he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead before he gets up from the bed. "c'mon princess, let's go have a bath before we can sleep"

you groan, not wanting to move from your comfy spot on his bed. "no, can't we just go straight to sleep?" you pout up at him. sirius shakes his head at you.

"no can do angel, c'mon it'll help soothe your sore muscles and get you comfortable before bed"

"fine, but only if you carry me. i can't feel my legs"

he laughs at this and moves to grab you, cradling you like a baby in his arms. moving to the bathroom, he places you down on the counter. going to run a bath, he adds your favourite bubble bath, making a smile appear on your face. he gets everything else ready, bringing your towels in so you won't get cold once you come out.

he turns towards you once the bath is ready. sirius takes off his shirt and then moves to undress you. he carries you and places you into the bath, before climbing in himself.

you wait for him to get comfortable before you slip in between his legs. you head laying on his chest, as his hands smooth down your hair, hums leaving your mouth at the sensation.

"you did so good for me angel, so good"

"have i ever told you how much i love you? because i do. i love you so so so much angel. you're my everything".

you giggle as you look up at him. "hmm, i think you've told me twice? ... or wait, i think it's more like a million times" sirius chuckles at you as he leans down to press a kiss onto your forehead.

"well then, i'll tell you a million times more, until it's the only thing you can think about"

you still can't believe that this gorgeous man is yours.

you love him more than anything in the world.

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taglist • @anchoeritic @barneswidow @sweeterthansammy

[whosjunglejim4322]

Warnings: SMUT, insecurities but mark just needs a lil reassurance abt how good he makes you feel, finger fucking/sucking, he cums in his pants, fluff bc yall r in love love <3

Mark knows he's being irrational about this whole ordeal. One conversation shouldn't be getting under his skin like it is, but this one thing seems to be knocking at the forefront of his brain, throwing him out of focus as of late.

So what, you masturbate. It's normal, he's not there all the time, of course you do. He does too, but he also becomes outrageously horny everytime he so much as thinks about your skin or the way you kiss him. And it's safe to say he thinks about you alot. Alot alot.

"It's different, though? I'm a guy, we jerk off an outrageous amount," he argues, furrowing his eyebrows as you stare up at his pacing form from the bed, grinning. He's cute when he's flustered.

"And girls just...aren't supposed to get horny without the help of a guy?" You inquire.

He stops pacing at this, slumping his shoulders. "that's not what I mean, I just-" he sighs, plopping himself next to you on the edge of the bed. He chews on the inside of his lip for a moment before shaking his head.

"Nevermind, I'm just tired." He runs his fingers through his disheveled hair, looking at you apologetically with his big doe eyes.

You're still amused, giggling as you reach over to cup his rosy hued cheeks, pulling him to your mouth for a kiss.

"A little toy could never replace you, my love."

You'd reassured him that night by wrapping your lips around his dick, and he was too lost in the belly aching anticipation and bliss of it all, to really pay attention to what it was you'd just said.

A little toy.

He hasn't stopped thinking about it. It's both slightly irritating, while also being the new source of his sexual frustration when he's supposed to be practicing. He thinks it may be more irritating than the ladder though, because as much as he hates to admit it, he is a jealous creature. 

It's silly, childish and he knows it. Maybe that's why he's so unsettled by this, because he knows that you love him. He knows you like his dick, from what you've expressed. But, maybe he's doing something wrong?

Maybe you just don't want to to wound his ego, and instead act like his dick is enough to satisfy you. Of course, he knows some sensations are better than others, but how often do you need to touch yourself? Does he not please you enough in the moments you two are together?

These questions still nag him when he walks into your apartment at around 7:35 pm, causing worry to crease between his brows.

You, of course, pick up on this when you round the corner from your bedroom to see him making his way towards you, lost in thought. Your arms snake around his middle and your lips place a kiss to his jaw. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"What's got you all mopey?" You ask, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort in his eyes, only to be stumped by his undreadable expression. Maybe he's just had a long day?

He hums, broken from his self depricating reverie, evidently not realizing he's wearing his emotions so blatantly.

"Nothin' just tired, wanted to come home." He buries his face in the crook of your shoulder once you've pulled him into your room, his breath warm against your neck.

You must've just taken a shower, skin the scent of his favorite soap that always has him sniffing you randomly throughout the day. He squeezes you tighter.

You kiss the side of his head, reluctantly pulling yourself away only to grab his hands and move to the bed, not believing that there's nothing more than just fatigue that's got his usual goofy smile hidden behind such a frustrated countenance.

You crawl onto his lap once his back is against the headboard, his hands slipping underneath your shirt to rub your back, a habit when he's nervous. He knows what's coming, already avoiding your eyes.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, Mark Lee? No excuses, this time." You mean business, but your voice is still as soft and comforting as ever. He can't resist looking up at you once you stroke his cheek with your thumb, featherlight.

With a drawn out breath, he reluctantly responds, knowing it'll only eat at him further if he doesn't.

"It's just....I feel like maybe I don't do enough for you...sexually? Like, I know everyone masturbates and It's totally fine you use a toy and stuff, I just feel like...like maybe It's better than...than what I can do? I know I'm not the most experienced but-"

He's stuttering, ears tomato red at the tips and he's a bit perplexed to see such a jubilant smile spreading across your face as he rubs the back of his neck, embarassed beyond belief.

"Mark..." you cup his soft, blazing cheeks in your palms, forcing him to meet your gaze as squeamish as he's suddenly become. "you're that upset over something like this?"

You don't sound judgemental nor teasing, despite the way you're grinning. But still, he wants to hide his face, wants to bow his head in shame. Suddenly he feels very foolish.

Not being able to stand seeing him so crestfallen, you reassure him, trurthfully. Your heart aches.

"Hey hey, look at me bub," wide doe eyes stare back at you, as you move some of his hair out from in front of his forehead where the strands have fallen. "you are more than enough, so good that when you're away I cant stand it. I have to touch myself, and I'm not just saying that."

His expression has regained some confidence, though you're not done yet. You've got this determination swirling in the pit of your belly, thrumming through your veins. You want him to know how truly incredible he really is, how good he really makes you feel.

"I think about your hands, your mouth, your dick. And you know what? By the end of it I'm not even satisfied, because that little toy isn't you. Do you understand? Hmm? Or do I have to show you?"

Suddenly his heartbeat is loud in his ears, adams apple bobbing as he swallows. He's hardened underneath you and you known that you've got him.

"I-I understand, now. But you could still show me, you know. If you want." His voice is a little unsteady but the corners of his soft, pink mouth twitch at the corners with an echo of a smile.

It's too much, Mark Lee absolutely will be the death of you. And so you kiss him, in a way that has his toes curling and his arms wrapping around your middle like a boa, refusing to let go.

Your fingers are tiwsted in his hair as you suck on his plush bottom lip, a gasp leaving his throat when your teeth nibble the sensitive skin. He can feel your hardened nipples through your sweater, pressing against his chest.

Your knees have tightened around the small of his waist as well, crotch rubbing against the strained bulge in his basketball shorts. You whine into his mouth.

"Mm, you should feel how wet you make me," his hands venture lower at this, until his warm fingertips are pressing into the flesh of your thighs. "go ahead Markie, touch me."

He groans, not being able to hold it back from his chest at the sound of your voice and your generous offer. His fingers, delicate and eager rub your pussy through your lounge shorts, and his jaw slacks a bit at your lack of underwear.

Your tongue slips against his, mouths parted and greedy while he slips his hand into the warmth of your shorts - and practically whines.

He wasn't expecting the abundance of your essence, the utter and complete lack of friction as his digits glide effortlessly through your silken folds. He takes his ring finger and presses the pad of it against your entrance, circling and listening to the lewd, slick sounds.

"Oh fuck," he croons free hand on your lower back and urging you against his touch. "you're s-so wet already, how are you so wet?" He's mystified, and completely fucked.

"I told you." You kiss him again, swallowing his reply and grinding your pussy against his palm. Without warning, he slips a finger in, and then another, falling apart at the way your walls so eagerly welcome them. He trembles.

"Mm, Mark." You're reaching down, underneath his arm and gripping his length, hot in your hand underneath the slinky material of his shorts. He twitches.

Suddenly his fingers are curling inside of you, and he begins to languidly pump them in and out of your sopping heat, on fire from his toes to the top of his head. You have to grip onto his shoulders, momentarily forgetting your previous endeavor of palming his dick.

He doesn't mind, not when you're whining like this, fingers digging into his skin, your body rocking against his while your walls hug and squeeze around his digits.

"Does it feel good?" He asks genuinley, but already knows the answer, too high off of this moment to not want his ego stroked. Your eyebrows are furrowed, lips kiss bitten, skin hot to the touch. You can barely make out an answer, and he swears all the blood in his body rushes straight to his dick.

"S-so good Markie - harder, please." You bury your face in the crook of his shoulder as tour thighs tremble around his narrow hips, lips trembling against his throat. He obliges you happily, anything to have you wilting against him like this. To hear more of the sounds you're making, for him.

Anyone outside the door would know whats going on, with the squelching of your wetness and the vigor in which he's fucking you with his fingers, heel of his palm nudging your clit with each thrust. You already feel that pit of pressure inside your belly expanding, so close to the brink of exploding.

He's fairing the same, if he's honest. You're rubbing up against the painful, throbbing boner in his bottoms, hidden behind only a thin layer of clothing. Your juices have leaked, leaving your own shorts wet at the crotch and the sight is erotic in a way that makes him buck up against you.

His free hand cups your face when he adds a third finger, pulling you from his shoulder to look at your face.

He damn near blows his load right then and there.

You look like you're on the verge of tears, not able to hold yourself up straight. A blush burns his skin, when you lean into his touch, fingers grasping at the front of his white tee.

"M'gonna cum soon Markie."

His heart threatens to explode from his chest when you turn your head and suck his thumb into your warm mouth, closing your eyes and bliss while his fingers pump into you, buried to the third knuckle.

This causes him to thrust into you with a sudden jolt, and the way his fingertips rub against the sweet spot deep inside of you, has the build up of pleasure finally spilling over like a broken dam.

The fingers on either of his hands are soaked now, one with your saliva and the other with your cum. You're gripping onto his wrists, letting him massage the inside of your walls while they contract around him, eyes rolled to the back of your head.

The sight, the feeling, is too much. You're a mess, a beautiful, sopping wet mess and without warning it's like a freight train is hitting him at full force, cock twitching willdy as pure bliss seeps through his pores.

You're still shivering, humping his hand while spurts of cum fill the inside of his shorts, dripping down the crease of his thigh and even soaking through the material a bit. Your eyes are barely able to open, but you will them to when you hear the almost imperceptible groan that strains from his throat when your heartbeat finally stops drumming so loudly in your ears.

Your belly lurches, skin tingly to the touch as he slumps against the headboard, peering up at you with more adoration than you can handle.

"I-I came in my pants." He breathes out, panting heavily alongside you. The thrill that runs down your spine like a tremor at the realization that he's cum, untouched, because of you, is what allows you to have half the mind to pull his fingers from your aching heat - replacing the others in your mouth.

His head lolls to the side, honey eyes trained on you like it’s impossible to look away while you suck your juices from his digits, humming around them. It's like he's staring up at the sun, mesmerized.

And then you're kissing him, and he's sure he's gone to heaven. He tastes you on the tip of your own tongue, and you're so sweet, so tender when you grasp his cheeks.

"I came in my pants too, by the way. Technically." You smile, and he chuckles warmly, giddy. His arms encapsulate you and he nudges the tip of your nose with his own.

The toy can have its fun, he thinks to himself. Because really, truly, nothing - and no one, will ever be as lucky and as enamored as he is with you.