#she looked the same LMAO so idk what is the truth

[pippindot]

Looking normal!!!

[hivepixels]

.

[eroselless]

───────────────────somebody else // 5

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [3.3k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist | previously

warnings: angst, insecure reader, mentions of sex, cheesy situations, throwing up

note: idk if its because I'm almost on my period or if it was the dulcet voice of baby justin bieber singing that should be me that was serenading me but I definitely teared up a teeny writing a certain section of this lmao 

A new message comes in a few weeks later. 

Come over? 

Lando stares at the message for a long moment, debating. He knew what it meant. He knew what would happen if he went. His thumb hovers over the screen, mind racing. He’s been here before. The ache of loneliness gnaws at him, twisting in his chest. He swears he won’t go—he tells himself it’s a bad idea, that it won’t fix anything. But the emptiness, the frustration, the desperate need to feel something, anything, overwhelms him. The need to forget just for a moment, wins out.

He goes.

When he arrives at her apartment, it’s almost automatic. He knows how this will go—the small talk, the casual drinks, the inevitable drift toward her bed. He pretends it's you when he’s snapping his hips into hers. Pretending it’s your voice that calls out for him, begging him for more. When she kisses him, he tries to remember what you tasted like. Or how your skin felt under his fingertips when he grips the swells of her breasts. But even as he presses his body against hers, even as he moves with her, it’s not her he’s thinking about.

It’s you.

Every kiss, every touch, every sound—he pretends it’s you. His mind betrays him, replacing her with the memory of you. He imagines it’s your voice whispering his name, your body beneath his, your skin under his hands as he grips her. His eyes squeeze shut, hoping, just for a second, to recreate the way it felt to be with you.

He ignores her when she says his name. It doesn’t sound the same as when you said it, when it would roll so beautifully off your tongue. She’s crying his name over and over again, the same way she used to, the way that once sent heat rushing through him. Now, it falls flat, lacking the sweetness, the softness of when you had once said it. He aches for the way your name used to roll off his tongue, the way you fit perfectly with him in those fleeting moments after everything was over.

The two of them don’t move in sync the way the two of you had. Her body doesn’t react to him the way you did. She feels different around him, different on top of him and different when they lay in bed after the fact. Every time they lay in bed, breathless and silent, he finds himself staring at the ceiling. He tries to summon a memory from the back of his mind, what you had looked like in his bed the morning after the club. How you must’ve looked so at home in his bed, under his sheets with his arms wrapped around you. What your hair must’ve looked like sprawled on the pillow and how your perfume had clung to the shirt you picked out from his drawer.

But he can’t. All he could see was her—her blonde hair and blue eyes. Her voice, the slope of her nose and the valleys of her body. The wrong scent, the wrong touch. Everything about her was a stark reminder that she just wasn’t you. 

He returns to her week after week, race after race, he finds himself knocking on her door, using her to drown out the noise in his head. They fall into a rhythm, after every near-win, every frustration on the track, he lets himself fall into the same rhythm. It’s a chase for pleasure, a temporary distraction. He doesn’t know if she sees it for what it is—if she understands she’s just filling a void. She asks for more, sometimes, her eyes searching for him, and each time he brushes her off with some excuse.

“It’s not the right time,” he says. But the truth is, it’s never going to be the right time.

Eventually he relents a little, letting her come to support him at the paddock. She hangs around, filling the space you once occupied. She makes him laugh, talks with ease. She’s good at pretending everything’s fine, like this is more than it is. And for a second, as she follows him around, Lando wonders if this could’ve worked before—if, in another life, before you, this could have been enough.

But it’s not. Not anymore. Because no matter how hard he tries, no matter how many times he tells himself this is easier, she’ll never be you.

*:・゚✧*:・゚✧

The door clicks behind you, the familiar sound echoing through the quiet apartment. The weight of the day settles on your shoulders as you shrug off your bag, letting it drop unceremoniously by the door. University had been draining to say the least. The endless lectures, the ever growing piles of assignments and the impending looming of exams were beginning to take their toll.

You slump into the sofa, relaxing into the fabric cushions that seem to exhale as you sink further into them. The quiet hum of the city outside your window was the only thing keeping you company. Your eyes flicker to the blank television, mind wandering to place you had been avoiding–places it always seemed to go to when you stopped moving. 

Lando. 

You hated that his name came to mind so easily, hated how it lingered so eagerly at the forefront of your mind. It had been weeks since you had left, but any glimmer of hope that the memories of him would start to face fizzled out as you kept replaying images of him in your mind. They were clear as day, as if they had only happened yesterday. And you hated it. 

You had hoped the weeks away, the build up of assignments and the weight of school would lessen the ache in your heart. But it hadn’t. If anything, it felt much sharper now. 

You pick up your phone, scrolling mindlessly through instagram and twitter. Lando’s face appeared in many photos, your algorithm all things McLaren due to your inactivity. The latest race weekend photos appeared on your feed–with her. Magui, draped on his arm, both of them with wide smiles painted on their faces. 

She was everywhere now, more than before. They had been seen together often at the paddock, her face a constant reminder of what you’d walked away from. It wasn’t just that they were together again, though—it was how natural they looked. The easy way she leaned into him, the smiles that didn’t seem forced. She seemed to be slipping into his life effortlessly, the way you once had.

Your chest tightens at the sight of them and you toss your phone onto the coffee table with more force than necessary. You couldn’t avoid seeing him—he was still everywhere, whether in race highlights or popping up on your social media feed. The image of him with Magui haunted you more than you cared to admit. A bitter cocktail of jealousy, sadness, and regret swirled inside you. 

But you had made your choice. You left. You told yourself it was for the best—that things between you and Lando were getting too complicated, too messy. And now, all you could do was cope with the aftermath.

You pull out your laptop, getting comfortable at your desk, determined to lose yourself in your studies. Exams were coming up, and you had too much on your plate to let your mind wander down that path again. The click of your keyboard echoed in the silence as you tried to focus on the assignment in front of you. But it was hard—your thoughts kept drifting back, replaying the last time you saw Lando, how it felt to leave without saying goodbye.

Before you could sink deeper into your thoughts, the sound of your phone buzzing broke through the silence. A message from one of your friends lit up the screen.

Elara: We’re going out tonight. You need a break.

You could see them all leaning over the screen waiting for your response. You sigh, thumbs hovering over the keys. It was true—you’d been drowning in work lately, barely giving yourself a moment to breathe. Still, the thought of going out, of being around people, didn’t exactly sound appealing. You weren’t in the mood for it.

You grimace as another message pops in from Seraphina. No excuses, you need to relax before you die under a textbook. 

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. Your friends were relentless and you knew they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Maybe they were right–-maybe you did need a little break, even if it was for just one night. 

*:・゚✧*:・゚✧

The cool night air brushed against your skin as you, Elara, and Sera stepped out of the cab and into the neon-lit streets. The bass from the club’s speakers reached your ears long before you approached the door, reverberating off the walls and seeping into your bones. The line outside buzzed with energy—laughter, shouting, and the faint clicking of heels on the pavement. Some people were already sloshed, others teetered between tipsy and sober, but inside, you knew it would be a chaotic mix of both.

For once, the madness felt like an escape, and you welcomed it.

As you stepped into the club, the thick air hit you like a wall. The scent of spilled drinks, the faint musk of sweat, and the sugary sweetness of perfume mingled together as bodies swayed and pulsed to the beat of the music. Colored lights flashed around, creating wild patterns on the walls, strobing back and forth across the packed dance floor.

“Shots first!” Seraphine shouted, tugging you through the crowd. Her voice was nearly drowned out by the pounding bass, but the gleam in her eyes told you exactly what she was planning. “You need this!”

You hesitated, glancing at the brightly colored bottles lining the bar. “I don’t know if—”

“No arguments tonight,” Elara interrupted, nudging your shoulder playfully. “You’ve been working your ass off. It’s time to have some fun. Let go for once.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine. But no promises I’ll keep up.”

“Oh, you will,” Seraphine grinned, already signaling the bartender. Three shots of tequila slid in front of you, gleaming under the club lights.

“To freedom!” Seraphine declared, raising her glass. The three of you clinked your glasses together, the sound lost in the hum of the crowd, before throwing the shot back.

The first shot burned like fire, but it was a good burn. The second went down smoother, the warmth spreading through your chest and limbs. By the third, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks started to unravel. You could feel your mind start to slip away from thoughts of school, exams, and even Lando.

With each one, you feel a little lighter, the weight of the last few weeks slipping away. The buzz of alcohol begins to hum beneath your skin, making the lights seem brighter, the music louder. It's not long before your friends drag you out to the dancefloor, weaving through the  crowd until you’ve found a good spot.  

“Ready to dance?” Elara asked, already pulling you towards the dance floor.

The alcohol buzzed beneath your skin, making the lights seem brighter, the music louder. You followed your friends, weaving through the crowd until you found a good spot near the center of the dance floor.

The beat pulses through your veins, vibrating in time with your heart. You can feel the energy around you, people moving, dancing, grinding. You lose yourself in the music, letting it take over as you move against the bodies around you, your movements uninhibited and fluid.For the first time in weeks, you felt free. Completely, utterly free. The alcohol works its magic, and you dance without a care, completely weightless as you let hands wander, gripping your hips and pressing into you. You laugh with your friends, letting the music carry you away. 

The crowd pressed in close, bodies swaying in sync, and for a few hours, nothing else mattered. Your mind was blissfully blank. No thoughts of school, of assignments, of him. You were just in the moment, letting go, moving to the beat, hands sliding up and down your body as the music thrummed around you. It was intoxicating, the feeling of freedom and release. Elara joins you, while Sera finds a guy to pull close. The alcohol surges through you, the pulse of the music slowly and fleeting feeling of the alcohol grounding you. 

The energy in the room shifts. You notice it first in the way the crowd suddenly becomes animated, an uproar of excited chatter speaking through the crown like wildfire. The lights dim and a wave of anticipation washes over the dance floor. You spin around, trying to find the source, only to find yourself freezing in your tracks. 

Even under the low, flashing lights, you’d recognize his silhouette anywhere. He’s standing at the DJ booth, bouncing slightly to the music, his arms out in front of him as he adjusts the controls. His backwards hat and the white T-shirt he’s wearing glow faintly under the blacklight, making him stand out even more against the dark backdrop of the club.

Your heart sinks.

The beat of the music intensifies, building toward a crescendo as Lando moves with the rhythm, a wide smile stretching across his face. He’s in his element, commanding the energy of the room as the beat drops, sending the crowd into a frenzy. The strobe lights pulse in sync with the bass, and for a split second, the lights stop strobing, a spotlight grazing over the crowd until it lands on you.

His eyes find yours.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as you stand there, the lights swirling around you. For a moment, it feels like time slows. Your hair is styled the same way it was the night this all had begun and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the way the dress clings to your frame, of how exposed you feel standing in the middle of the dance floor while he watches. His eyes twinkle with the same sparkles they had when you’d seen him the very first time.

The room around you blurs into nothing. It’s just you and him. It was the universe playing a cruel joke on you, the way he was staring up at you from above only reminded him of how you two had been the last time you were both under flashing lights. 

The noise comes crashing back in, along with reality. The pit of your stomach now feels hollow as you turn away. Seraphine and Elara remain laughing beside you, completely unaware of the turmoil inside you, but you’re too shaken to care. 

The tequila isn’t enough to drown out the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I need another drink,” you mutter, as you wander back to the bar, Sera and Elara in tow, and order another round of shots. It’s too much—seeing him here, so carefree, so alive, and you just want the dull ache in your chest to stop.

“Maybe you should slow down,”Elara suggests, eyeing you as the bartender slides the drinks your way.

“It’s ok,” you reply, ignoring her and downing the shot without hesitation. You feel it burn its way down, numbing the edges of your thoughts. But it doesn’t help. Nothing seems to help.

The drinks keep flowing, two, three, four more shots. As you reach for a fifth, Sera’s fingers grip gently around the glass, pulling it from your grasp. “That’s enough, babe. No more for you.” she says. You nodded, barely processing her words, as she drags you back to the dance floor. You move again, trying to lose yourself in the music. 

You keep dancing, keep moving. If you stayed still for another moment, the thought of him would come back. But no matter how much you moved, his presence lingered. He was still there, lingering at the edges of your awareness.But it wasn’t working. 

The club, the freedom, the buzz–it was all fading and fast, you felt sick. 

You moved back slightly, nearly losing your balance. You stumble, the floor seemingly shifting under you–your fingers brushing against something solid. 

Lando.

 He held onto your biceps, hands holding you up as you felt the nerves in your tummy try to take your knees out. His eyes were filled with a strange mix of emotions as they met yours. 

It was awkward, heavy. You both opened your mouths, as if to say something, but the words were stuck in your throat.

"I... I’m sorry for how things ended," you finally blurted out, the alcohol making your voice slur slightly. "I didn’t mean to—"

You try to explain yourself, the alcohol still in your system allowing the words to flow out effortlessly. But before you can get too far, you can see someone approaching the two of you. 

Magui.

She appears by his side, her arms snaking possessively around his waist. She eyes his hands as they slowly come off your arms, letting you go gently. “Hey” she greets you with a saccharine smile, her voice dripping with condescension as she glances you over. You felt like a bug under the stare. You were probably sweaty, eyes bloodshot and makeup slightly smudged with sweat. She stood perfectly manicured, like a Barbie, by Lando’s side. It made sense, the way you saw it, they seemed perfect for each other. 

Before you can respond, she pulls Lando in for a kiss–a long, sloppy kiss that makes your stomach turn. You can’t look away, frozen in place as the sight of them rips through you like a knife. Her hands are pulling at his clothes, grasping at his jaw. His hand has instinctively gone to her waist, pushing her away ever so slightly, but you don’t notice that. The music suddenly feels too loud, the lights too bright, and all at once, everything comes crashing down.

She pulls away just in time for Lando to spot the tears pooling in your eyes. He can see it in your face, the way your heart is just crumbling in your chest. He’s never seen this side of you, not even in your attempts to distance yourself from him, never. It wasn’t a look he ever wanted to see again.

The knot in your stomach tightens and you feel it rising in your throat before you can stop it. The world spins as you lurch forward, expelling the contents of your stomach all over their shoes–Lando’s and Magui’s. 

The room erupts in gasps and murmurs and you stand there, mortified as Magui lets out a shriek. She moves back into Lando, shouting insults at you. Lando’s eyes are wide with shock, but you can’t bear to look at him any longer. Tears are now freely streaming down your face as Sera and Elara rush over. They grab you as the club’s security moves in. 

“We need to go,” Elara whispers urgently, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

You don’t protest. You let them drag you out, your mind spinning, your heart shattered. As you stumble out of the club, you can hear your name called out from the fading crowd. You cling onto Elara and Sera, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel another wave of nausea roll over you.

It all goes black from there. 

a/n: hey y'all this is a scheduled post, i've been so busy as of lately with school but i did my absolute best to get this out for you guys. I hope you guys liked it! as always, let me know what you guys think of it, i always love to see what you guys have to say!

tags: @bitchesbroknhearts @herexpertcollector @cabbyhabs @horseymchorse3 @bluebluesol @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys @obxstiles @moonvr @spideylovin @rafeyybabyy @lipstickstateofmind

[aemondsbabe]

A Kindness

summary: you're finally ramsay's most favorite toy, but is that really a good thing?

pairing: ramsay bolton x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark content it's ramsay hello, blood kink but no injury/gore, mentioned major character death (again, no injury/gore), slight au (ramsay wins battle of the bastards), choking, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation, slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex don't be silly wrap ur willy, hair pulling, creampie, slight breeding kink, puppy play, boot humping idk how to else to phrase it, slight angst but a happy ending for ramsay lmao, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.2k

a/n: my first foray into dark or at least semi-dark writing and my first time writing ramsay! i've had this one in my head for such a long time so it feels really good to actually get it out! hope everyone enjoys and please make sure to heed the warnings with this one!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🖤 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Dip the cloth again, you dolt,” you snap, looking up from the scroll of parchment rolled out before you on the table when you hear the coarse woolen cloth begin to scrape dryly across the silver Ramsay’s… thing was supposed to be polishing, “If I have to remind you of that one more time, I’ll tell him you tried to touch me. I wonder which part of you he’d hack off for that, hm?” 

Reek’s eyes go wide at your threat and he nods his head frantically, quickly reaching over and dunking the cloth into the small bowl of vinegar before him. “Yes, m’lady. Apologies, m’lady.” 

A small sigh leaves your lips as you rest an elbow on the table, nose scrunching up slightly at the sour smell that seems to hang like a cloud over the room, the small one by the kitchens.

 Probably where the staff ate, you think, staring blankly at the fire crackling away in the hearth. You’ve tried hard to picture it – Winterfell in its former glory, trussed up with wolf banners and filled with children’s laughter, how it was when the Stark’s called it home. 

Your eyes linger on Reek and for a second, you’re halfway tempted to ask him about it – what it was like living here, being one of them. You don’t, knowing the question would fall on deaf ears at the least, or send him spiraling to the point of being unable to finish his chores, and then it would be your head on the chopping block as well. 

Distantly, you hear the familiar baying of Ramsay’s hounds and your eyes flick up to the narrow slit windows on the wall; you do your best to ignore the way Reek’s head swivels to the sound in the same instance yours does, the way that adrenaline so keenly rushes through you – a burst of panic leading the charge before you have the chance to correct it. 

Anticipation, you remind yourself, jaw clenched, Passion, excitement. 

Your eyes vacantly scan over the parchment you’d nabbed from the library earlier that morning, an account of the birth of Arya, apparently the sister of the one that had actually managed to escape some weeks back, no doubt frozen now in one of the snowy forests that surrounds Winterfell. You don’t really care, your thoughts once again reverting back to Myranda. Bitterly, you remember how he never made her stay behind when he went hunting, never made her watch over his man-servant, never made her second guess.

The last one is a lie, the truth woven deeply into the many nights you’d spent up with her – listening as she fretted about each word she’d uttered to him that day, hoping each one had been right and had been said at the right time, that he wouldn’t find some made-up cause to punish her. Tendrils of jealousy had twisted into you even then, even as she painted a picture of what he truly was. 

Just as men’s voices filter through the windows from the courtyard outside, your lips quirk up into a mean, victorious little smirk. 

It’s her body he fed to the dogs, you think, the voice in your mind a proud hiss, Just like Violet’s and Tansy’s and Kyra’s. You remember the day well enough, remember the shock of seeing your friend's body laying in the courtyard as you’d run out to greet Ramsay, teal eyes staring at nothing. It had been you that had warmed his bed that very night, and all the ones after it. 

“There you are,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, nearly making you yelp as Reek scrambles to stand up from the table. Before you even have a chance to, a strong hand clasps over your shoulder, stilling your movements, “No, no, don’t get up on my account.” Rusty copper stains color his hand, dried blood outlining each of his nails. You don’t let your mind linger on what the source of it could be.

You whip your head around and swallow nervously as he chuckles lowly, “Ramsay!” You breathe in greeting, the corners of your lips tilting up into a tentative smile, though that’s quickly washed away as you take in the messy splotches of red that stain his coat and tunic, that snake their way up the pale column of his throat and dot the sides of his face. 

He looks every bit the hunter and you wonder, not for the first time, what that makes you. 

“You seem quite comfortable here, pet,” he drawls, leaning down until he’s eye-level with you, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more at home down here with the help,” he continues, hand tightening to the point of pain on your shoulder, making you grit your teeth, “Than you are in our chambers where you’re meant to be.”

Our chambers. A privilege he never granted her. Stupidly, your heart sings. 

His hand tightens on your shoulder once more, finally drawing a pained whine from your lips.

“Y-You told me to watch him! To make sure he –” You’re cut off as Ramsay unceremoniously hauls you to your feet, clawing at your leather doublet. A cry leaves your lips as the hand on your shoulder tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging as he forces your head back, blue eyes flicking to your neck as you swallow thickly. 

“I told you to be in our chambers when I return from hunts,” he corrects you, standing to his full height as he holds you tightly, forcing you unsteadily onto your tip-toes, “That I expected you to be at the door, ready and waiting for me.” His lips ghost over your ear as he speaks, his voice a low growl that shouldn’t excite you the way it does. 

“I’m sorry,” you wince internally at the way your voice comes out as a pained little squeak, your hands scrambling to hang onto his forearm, nails digging into the stained quilted fabric of his jacket.

“You know how I get after a hunt,” he suddenly pulls away from you, his hand pulling out of your hair, a gasp leaving you as your heels drop to the floor. You blink as he reaches up, not flinching from years of practice, though instead of striking you or harshly gripping at your jaw like you expect, his hand cups your cheek. Your chest rises and falls as he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, blood stained fingers now delicate against your soft skin. 

“Today’s was a special one, too. Don’t you remember?” He questions, icy eyes sliding from yours to the red-headed man still standing by the table, glimmering cruelly as he smirks. 

Still, you nod your head, knowing Reek won’t answer. “To celebrate killing Jon Snow,” you breathe, gripping at the leather of his tunic, desperate to win even a scrap of approval.

Surprisingly, he grants it – fixing you with a proud little grin, like how an owner would look at a dog that’s just mastered a new trick. “That’s right,” his hand ruffles the hair on the top of your head, a gesture that should feel demeaning, yet it sends a tingle of pride through you instead, “Seems you can remember something after all.” He pulls away and traipses over to Reek, hands clasped behind his back.

“Surely you remember too, Reek? You were in the kennels that evening when the dogs had their treat, were you not?” He taunts, the playful inflection in his voice entirely for show, “Our little problem’s been dealt with and now we hold not only the Dreadfort but Winterfell as well! What do you think about that, hm?” Ramsay studies the other man carefully, eyes flitting over his face as he takes great pleasure in the subtle twitches of pain that still manage to flicker through the harsh conditioning he’d endured. Your eyes stay fixed firmly on the stone floor. 

“A… A great victory, master!” 

“Yes, a great victory, indeed,” he smiles, watching Reek for another moment before turning back to you. His smile morphs into a cold, callous frown that ties your stomach into knots, each of his steps making your heart hammer faster in your chest. “You know, it’s actually rather amusing,” he starts, bloodied fingers twirling a stray lock of your hair, “How my hounds seem to be continually more well trained than you, pretty little idiot.”

Pretty, pretty, pretty! Your heart thumps dumbly, a rabbit in a snare. 

“I’ll do better!” You whimper, shaking your head frantically as your eyes meet his, “I can do better, really, I was just confu–”

The hand in your hair shoots down suddenly, yanking several strands with it as he clamps it around your neck. “Confused?” Ramsay murmurs, watching with rapt attention at how you struggle in his hold, lips quivering as the words die in your throat, “Really? I give you one task, I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even figure that out? You still disappoint me?” 

He’s not expecting an answer, you know this, and yet you still try to give one as your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, only the faintest little whines managing to escape. You feel faint, both from his grip around your throat and from the myriad of emotions coursing through your veins – your heart twists at the thought of failing him, your stomach is in knots as various punishments flash through your mind, and yet your center still sparks, still sends little glimmers of arousal through you. 

His grip loosens enough to allow you to suck in several shaky lungfuls of air as he snickers, endlessly amused at how eager you still are, how you still yearn so deeply for him. Again, he pats your head condescendingly, muttering little hushes as if you were a crying puppy. “Lucky for you, pet, I have plenty of experience training stubborn bitches,” Ramsay chuckles, blue eyes glimmering with mirth when he feels you swallow apprehensively, “I think we’ll have your behavior corrected in no time, won’t we? Even the stupidest of beasts can still learn a trick or two.”

Before you have time to react, the hand cradling the crown of your head harshly grabs at your hair again, tugging you suddenly toward the door. “Ah!” You yelp, stumbling as he all but drags you behind him, your hands shake as they struggle to grab onto his forearm, “Ramsay, pl–!”

“You should be grateful I am allowing you the kindness of walking!” He growls, sparing you a glance over his shoulder as he leads you through the Great Hall, “Pity I’m so protective of you, really, I’m sure it would be quite entertaining for my men to watch you crawl.” His drawled threat sends a spark of fear down your spine and you pant, chest heaving, as you shuffle behind him; your cheeks burn as several of his soldiers sitting at the long wooden tables catcall as you stagger past them.

Finally, the two of you reach your shared chambers, that fact sending a little torrent of satisfaction through you even now. Unceremoniously, Ramsay all but tosses you inside and you whimper as your hip collides with an edge of the decorative table just inside the door, no doubt hard enough to bruise but at least it breaks your fall. 

“It’s quite unfortunate, normally find your impudence amusing,” he starts lowly, pressing the old wooden door closed with a thud before sliding the lock into place with a self-satisfied grin, “But I know you know better, don’t you, little one?” He asks as he stalks toward you.

Your breath catches in your throat as he stands before you, studying you silently for a second in the same calculated way he studies a deer through the sight of his bow. Not knowing what else to do, you silently nod your head as your eyes slip down to the floor, like a child being scolded. 

“You’ve been with me the longest now,” he murmurs as if you don’t know, one bloodstained hand grabbing at your waist as the other fits around the back of your neck, once again forcing your eyes to his face, “We grew up together, you and I. You know my ways, my rules, isn’t that right?”

Again, you nod your head, bottom lip trembling with the want to explain yourself, although you know that would only make things worse.

“That’s what makes your disobedience so frustrating,” his blue eyes bore into yours as he speaks, his lip sticking out in a mocking pout, “Because you do know better and yet you’re stupid enough to act out anyway, hm?” His tone is sharper now, dangerous like the pointed tip of an arrow.

“I wasn’t acting out!” The words claw themselves out of your throat before you can stop them and instantly you know you’ve made a mistake, but now you’re desperate to remedy it, “I wasn’t, really! I j-just misunderstood you, that’s –” 

Your pleas come to a screeching halt as his hand smacks across your face, the other grips at your jaw tightly, tight enough to make you whine softly in his grasp. Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, cheek stinging, before they open and lock with his again, wild and desperately. 

I wasn’t being insolent! You scream silently, hoping he can somehow hear you, that maybe all of your years with him would’ve granted that ability, I would never! I was doing as you said, like always! 

“I was wrong earlier, wasn’t I?” Ramsay mutters, so close to you that your foreheads nearly touch. Your eyes widen slightly at his words, heart thumping in a hopeful little staccato, though he wrenches that away quickly enough, “You’re not a dog at all, no, a dog would be obedient and docile.”

Your brows knit together with confusion at his words, biting so hard into your lower lip that you’re shocked you don’t taste blood. Although, you can’t help the surprised little gasp that leaves you when his hands begin quickly tugging at the laces of your bodice as your own remain in white-knuckled fists at your sides, the whole of you determined to stay still like a statue, a plaything. 

“No, you my sweet little pet,” he growls sarcastically, low voice morphing into a pleased chuckle as he tugs your bodice off; the shirt below it quickly follows and a small part of you blooms with pride at the happy little sigh he lets out at the sight of your breasts. 

“You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you?” He chuckles against your throat, nipping at your skin more so than kissing it, although you relish the feel of his lips on you all the same. “A dumb, defiant little puppy,” he continues, hastily pulling at the ties of your skirts and you whimper despite yourself when they finally fall to the floor, pooling at your feet, “That’s in desperate need of more training.” 

He stops, pausing for a mere second, and pulls back just enough to look at you, no doubt gaining satisfaction from the desperation written so plainly on your face. There’s a hunger in his cold eyes – a predator silently deciding to go for the jugular, nocking an arrow on his bow. 

You whine as he properly kisses at your throat now, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs at your hips. One skims higher to cup your breast, the unexpected gentleness of his touches causes you to shiver and whine in his grasp and into his mouth as he kisses you finally, his full lips moving steadily in time with yours. 

Harsh pants leave your lips as your heart pumps madly in your chest, his touches always work you up so quickly. The thought of him still being fully clothed as he left you bare and vulnerable made you hotter still; the feel of his warm leather tunic against your exposed skin, of his bloodied hands against your supple skin, drives you mad. 

Before you have time to second guess your movements, you begin blindly pulling at the strings on his leather tunic, desperate to feel him against you. Surprisingly, he lets you tug it off of him, granting you a last meal of sorts, and you can’t help but to smile into the kiss, gasping into his mouth as he unbuttons his jacket himself before quickly tossing it aside as well. He’s panting nearly as harshly as you are as the two of you part long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, your hands immediately go to his chest the second it joins the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Your eyes flicker over him as the two of you pause, the knot in your belly growing tighter at the sight of his taut stomach and chest, the low, warm glow of the many candles dotted throughout your chambers accentuating each muscular dip. Your fingers shake as they trail over him and you feel a sick sense of pride twist in your stomach at the fact that, unlike so many men, his skin isn’t mottled with years of scars and bruises. No, his is flawless, a pale, unmarred, ruthless canvas – a flawless killer. 

Of course, he can’t let you have this reprieve for long. A good trainer doesn’t spoil his pet. 

A soft, broken gasp leaves you as one hand wraps around your neck again, slotting perfectly against your throat like a collar, as he walks you a few paces further into the room, closer to the small hearth by the bed. “Kneel,” his command leaves no room for anything but obedience; you swallow thickly, nervously, and do as he says, lips parting ever so slightly when your knees rest on plush bear skin instead of hard stone. 

A kindness, even now. 

Ramsay’s lips twist into a proud grin as you stare up at him, legs folded beneath you with your hands poised perfectly on your thighs, a familiar stance he’d taught you years ago. “Good girl,” he mutters, fingers threading gently through your hair as you moan softly. 

“Thank y – Ah!”

“No,” he chides harshly, tugging your head back by the roots of your hair until your neck is bared to him, your back arched, “Puppies don’t talk, dumb little thing,” he growls, shifting more closely to you in order to gain a better hold on your hair, close enough that you whimper as your front is pressed firmly against the length of his leg, the thick fabric of his trousers rough against your skin as one of his feet slots between your thighs, “A well-trained pet certainly doesn’t.” 

The knot in your belly seizes at his words, aided by the laces of his leather boots brushing oh-so gently against your center, the knotted fabric sticking against the wetness already leaking from your clenching cunt. You whine, high-pitched and frantic when he clutches your hair tighter still, his fist white knuckled against the crown of your head. 

“A well-trained little pet would always obey their master, wouldn’t they?” You can’t miss the breathiness of his voice now, his tone lower and smoother than it normally is, and the sound makes your hips hump against his boot before you can stop yourself, your nipples stiff, nearly aching, as they rub against his trousers. 

A low, rumbled laugh echoes through your chambers when your arms wrap around his leg, fingers digging desperately into the firm muscle of his thigh. “Aww,” he coos mockingly, licking his lips as he watches you, his attention making blood rush to the apples of your cheeks, “Is my pretty little puppy getting off on this? Does your cunt drip when I tell you how stupid and worthless you are?”

The sound of your blood pumping furiously through your veins thuds in your ears, Pretty, pretty pretty!

You whine as you try to eagerly nod your head, his hold on your hair preventing you from moving much, though your hips rut steadily against his boot now – pressing tightly against the worn fabric, the knots from his laces rubbing perfectly over the throbbing little pearl at your center. 

“You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls, cold eyes shining as he studies you closely, chest heaving in time with yours as his cock hardens in his pants, “Are you having fun, little one?”

Again, you try to nod, keening brokenly as your eyes stay fixed on his. You pant harshly against his leg, breath fragmented as they’re punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each pass of your slick center over the laces of his boot. 

He knows, of course. As soon as he ordered you to stay in the kitchens with Reek this morning, he knew – knew you’d follow his orders to the letter, even if they contradicted his previous ones. He knew he’d find you there, knew he’d punish you for it, knew exactly how he wanted to break you down so that it could be him who built you back up. He’s known you the longest, you’d grown up together. He knows, of course he does. He’s nothing if not a thorough hunter. 

A loud, broken whine leaves you when he flexes his foot, pressing his boot harder against you still. You’re helpless to do much else aside from stare up at him, gasping, while your hips buck against him as quickly as your sore muscles will allow, your high barreling toward you at a breakneck pace. 

All of that comes to a sudden, screeching halt though when he moves again, shifting his weight until his boot is just out of reach. The sudden lack of stimulation makes your back arch further still, your muscles taut like a drawn bow. 

“Oh, poor little puppy,” he laughs, watching gleefully as you whine loudly, the peak that had been so close fading away, leaving you aching, “If you thought it was going to be that easy, you haven’t been paying attention.” He taunts, crouching until he’s eye-level with you, smirking as his movements cause his pull on your hair to become tighter, making you wince, though his hand thankfully releases its grasp once he settles.

“Mmm,” you mewl softly as he caresses your breasts again, jumping slightly when he thumbs over your nipple before softly pinching at it, giving the other one the same treatment. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back further still, pressing against the palm of his hand as he kneads at your chest, eager for any stimulation you can get.

“Myranda was never like this,” he says suddenly, his voice low, steady, calculated. He smiles cruelly when your eyes snap open at the sound of her name, the back of your throat tight as tears already blur your vision – just like he wanted. “No, Myranda always behaved perfectly, she always did exactly what I said.” 

He leans forward suddenly, the side of his face pressed firmly against yours so that when he speaks, you’re sure to hear every syllable, to feel them punctuated against the skin of your neck. “She was perfect. I never had to punish her for the same thing twice, you know. Not like I do with you.” 

You shudder as his lips press against your skin again, pressing eager kisses against the wet trail of tears running down your cheek. He admires the way your shoulders shake as you sob, the way the subtle movement makes your breasts bounce, the way your cheeks flush so prettily, how your eyes always shine so brightly with fresh tears in them. 

Ramsay loves breaking you – adores the moment when his arrow is finally launched free from his bow, adores the moment he sees it pierce your little heart. He loves you, in his way. 

Not that he’d tell you that.

He lets you sob for a moment longer, all the while pressing hot kisses against your cheeks, relishing the salty taste of your tears as the little droplets of blood still caked to his skin mar your pretty face, staining it with delicate streaks of red. His cock twitches at the sight, black pupils nearly drowning out the blue of his eyes – maybe one day he’d bring you hunting, what a sight you’d be covered in the bright blood of a fresh kill. 

“Myranda never needed training, puppy, not in the way you do,” he nearly whispers, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he leans back enough to grab at your chin, tilting your face up to his, “That’s what made her so boring.”

“Huh?” You breathe, sobs stalling for a second as you process what he’d just said, your obvious surprise making him laugh lowly again. 

“What? Does that shock you? That I found her boring?” He questions, eyebrow raised, “Why would perfection be interesting?” 

Your eyes search his face as he shifts, kneeling rather than crouching. A little glimmer of pride sparks to life within you as he kisses you again, your lips moving against his frantically, mewling when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip. 

“I never got to train her,” he breathes against your lips, grunting at the way your hands skim over his chest and stomach, grabbing at him so frantically, “I hardly got to punish her; if I gave her an order, she would follow it blindly – it made her predictable, it made her boring.”

“N-Not like me?” You whisper hopefully, meeting his gaze through half-lidded eyes as you pant, your chest pressed tightly to his. 

“No, sweet pet, not like you,” Ramsay smiles, making your heart sing as it leaps beneath your ribs, “I get to train you, don’t I? And punish you when that little puppy brain can’t follow the simplest of orders.”

You should be offended, should feel mocked and belittled, but you don’t. Instead, you nod your head eagerly, preening like a proud little bird at his praise, because that’s what is, really. Ramsay will never be one to sing your praises softly like other men, but he admires you all the same. 

Before you have time to reply, he grabs at your waist and abruptly maneuvers you, manhandling you until you’re poised on your hands and knees, cheek pressed firmly against the fur rug beneath you. 

“I get to play with you, pet,” he drawls lowly, pressing a hand into the small of your back and grunting appreciatively when you arch down like he wants, licking his lips as your cunt finally comes into view, shining already in the low candlelight. He smirks at the way you moan when he presses his hard length against you, grinding against your slit, chest heaving at how warm you are even through his trousers, “Don’t I?”

“Yes!” You nod eagerly, pressing back against him like a wanton whore, nearly dizzy with need when his fingers bump against you as he quickly undoes the laces on his pants, “Yes, yes, yes, please!”

“Ohh, so you can be good, hm?” He teases, groaning in relief when he pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock, too impatient to remove them entirely, “Seems my training’s working nicely.”

Mindlessly, you nod, willing to agree with whatever he says so long as he gets inside you.

Mercifully, you don’t have to wait long. A loud cry fills your chambers as he presses into you, the slight sting of his thick cock stretching you open making you shiver, a familiar sensation since he was rarely ever patient enough to work you open on his fingers. 

Immediately, he sets a brutal pace, his hips pressing against yours tightly each time he pushes forward, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. Your cunt clenches at him greedily and your hands scramble against the rug beneath you, fingers tangling into the furs, desperate for something to anchor yourself. 

“Fuck, tight little cunt,” Ramsay grunts harshly above you, his hands gripping meanly at your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. 

“R-Ramsay, fuck… fuck,” you whimper beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as the knot in your belly threatens to unravel, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his length each time it spears into you.

He chuckles breathlessly at your little murmurs and runs a hand up the length of your back before grabbing at the hair at the nape of your neck, relishing the little cry you give as he pulls you up until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Are you close already?” He mocks smugly, his fingers untangling from your hair to wrap once more around your throat as his other paws at your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. 

You swallow thickly, throat bobbing under his grip, and nod your head the best you can, grabbing at his thick forearm. 

“Do you think I’m going to let you?” He teases, biting harshly at your shoulder as his hips keep up a punishing rhythm.

You nearly sob at the question, so desperate, but still you shake your head, cunt pulsing around his length. “No, n-no…” You moan mournfully, voice hoarse from his hold. 

He chuckles behind you, his chest rumbling against your back as he kisses and bites at your earlobe, your shoulder, any part of your neck not covered by his hand, each touch driving you mad. “Finally, that little brain seems to be working,” he grunts, laughing lowly as he abandons your breasts long enough to slap your cheek, blessedly soft this time, “I’m having too much fun playing with you to let you go that easily,” He drawls, chuckling once more when you whine. 

“In fact,” he continues, reaching down and rubbing his fingers roughly against your aching bud, just enough to make you cry out before he suddenly pulls away again, tugging his length from you as he lets you flop to the floor with a little grunt, “I want to see you do a trick,” he whispers, rubbing over your ass before smack it roughly, making you jump, “Roll over.”

“Wha –” You start to question, only to be cut off with a loud cry as his hand spanks you once more.

“Be a good fucking puppy and roll over.”

His order leaves no room for questioning and obediently, you listen and roll over onto your back with a little whimper. You keep your legs bent up when you settle, keeping yourself on display for him, clenching around nothing as you eye his hard cock bobbing against his stomach, the tip red and leaking. 

“Good little pet,” he praises, his words going straight to your pearl as you shudder. Hastily, he pushes your legs up further, one hand holding you open as he presses his cock back into you, savoring your loud whine, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He resumes his harsh pace, slamming into you as he chases his high now, blue eyes trailing appreciatively over your trembling body, watching as your breasts bounce with each unforgiving thrust he gives. 

“Please, please, Gods, please!” You whine frantically as he presses his hips against yours, grinding into you, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bud perfectly, “Ramsay, p-please! I – fuck!”

He laughs breathlessly at your cries and leans down when you arch your back toward him, mouthing savagely at your chest, teeth nipping at the fat of your breasts before he licks over your nipples. He knows each touch is only driving you closer and closer to your release, yet he still doesn’t give you permission, a part of him meanly hopes you’ll slip over anyway and give him another reason to punish you, like he actually needs a reason. 

Still, you have been good today and he does love how willing and docile you become when you peak, so malleable – entirely submissive, entirely his. 

He bites and kisses his way up along your chest and neck before licking into your mouth for a moment, eagerly swallowing each desperate little cry before grabbing at your neck once more. Greedy, he turns your head to him, needing to see that empty-headed, hazy look in your eyes when he lets you finish.

His cock jerks at the sight of you, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try desperately to hold off, cheeks flushed, reddened lips parted. He grunts, feeling his balls tighten, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm. 

“Cum, puppy,” he growls, forehead pressed against yours.

Your lips part in a silent curse as your high slams into you, each muscle in your body contracting at once. Your eyes bore into his wildly as your cunt spasms tightly around his cock, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through it.

“Fuck!” He grunts, growling lowly as his cock spasms within you, your walls all but milking his own high from him as well. His hips slam into you a few more times before he stills, gasping as he fills you with his spend. 

The two of you lay together for a moment, panting loudly against one another. Ramsay is the first to move, shushing you as he pulls his softening length from you, making you whine. 

Distantly, a part of you twists gleefully when you feel his seed drip from you, another thing he never dared do with her. 

“Here,” he says softly, offering you a hand, which you gladly take, letting him help you stand since you doubt you’d be able to on your own. Finally, you stand on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and grab onto the foot of the carved wooden bedframe to steady yourself. Strangely, he stays with you, neither of you saying anything as he holds you, blue eyes studying you as they gleam with some unknown emotion. 

After a moment, you try to pull away, meaning to leave as you always do, not one to wait around for his order anymore. 

“Stop,” he murmurs, only pulling away once you still, “Stay.” He orders, an unfamiliar softness to his voice. Your head reels, eyes staring unfocused as you try to make sense of… whatever this is, whatever his game may be now. 

He returns quickly enough, a damp cloth in his and from the small wash basin he keeps on the vanity. You reach out to grab it, to clean yourself off like you assume he wants, and yet he stops you, holding the cloth out of your grasp until you lower your hand again. 

“Obedient puppies get rewards,” he says softly, all of the harshness from before absent from his tone as he answers your silent questions. You nearly freeze when he presses one small, gentle kiss against your forehead. Finally, he makes quick work of wiping between your legs, taking care to wipe away any of his spend that leaked from you. 

“Thank you…” You nearly whisper, voice scratchy from his earlier treatment. That doesn’t feel like the right thing to say but if it isn’t, he doesn't say. 

Silently, he cups your chin, lifting it enough to give him room to check your neck, trailing his hand over it lightly until he must be satisfied that you’re okay, that he hadn’t treated you too badly. 

Kind, even still.

A few moments later, you recline in the plush bed, watching as he kicks off his boots before joining you, lying with you under the soft blankets. This part, at least, you’re used to – lying together like this but not touching, not cuddling, that’s too intimate, too close. 

He hadn’t said that, wouldn’t say that, but you knew. 

A surprised little gasp leaves you when he pulls you close, hands, clean now that he’d taken a moment to wash them, resting on you gently. One smoothes up and down your arm as he lets you lay against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone, his chin resting on your head; the other grabs at your thigh, pulling you to him until you’re tucked into his side, one leg propped over his hips. 

“You did well,” he says softly, chest vibrating under your cheek as he speaks, “With your training, I mean. You did well. I’m… proud of you.”

“Thank you.” 

The two of you are silent after that, neither of you knowing how to handle this new territory that you seem to be spilling into, but you don’t care, not with your heart pounding quickly in your chest. You’d think you were dying if it weren’t for the savage sense of victory threading through every inch of you. 

Proud, proud, proud! The word echoes in your head with each pump of blood through your heart. It was so small, the barest of compliments, but from Ramsay it meant the world. It was something he’d said to you, only you, never to her, not once. Never to anyone else. 

His chest rises and falls under your cheek, breath steady and even. He always falls asleep quickly, normally you do too. But not this time, not tonight, not wanting to let this moment fade just yet. 

He loves you, in his way.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @iamawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino @targaryenbarbie @fan-goddess

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[kookslastbutton]

prove it to me ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: "I'm not your baby Jungkook. Remember that." Those are the words you say right before jumping into a one night stand with Jeon Jungkook, the man who's constantly annoying you with his college fling stories. You decide maybe just this once you'll play into his game and prove that he's no more average than the rest.

Pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x fem!reader

AU/genre: PWP, smut, humor, fluff, one-sided e2l, friend of friends, oneshot (for now?)

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 5.3k+

Warnings: arguing, swearing, sexual tension, denial of feelin’s, kook’s kind of an @$$ but he got some truth to him, oc's jaded & not buying into kook's bs, myg being a good friend then ditching lmao, kook likes calling oc petnames, kook is bunny boy

sexually explicit content: dom!jk, switch sub!reader, semi-awkward first kiss, unprotected s*x (pls stay safe everyone!!), teasing, foreplay, dirty talk, some manhandling, rough sex, t*itty suck, f*ngering, penetration, cunnilingus, doggy, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), kooks calls her pretty girl, some degradation/dumbification (sl*t calling) & oc has bit of an actual dumby moment but she's still fairly rigid, but not a full brat? Lmao idk

Now playing: Monster in me, Breakfast, LOUD

A/N: ahdjsj?c it's here! 👉👈 a thousand apologies that this is out way later than planned! Uni getting most of my time 😟 But its here and I'm so pumped to share it with you guys!! Hope you enjoy 😗💕

Taglist:

@marcoazz2 @demiec0re @jcrl99 @muah-minhoe-8 @whoa-jo @jeongukkieeeeeeee @sweet4jenni @chanjwl @kimtaesss @jexizia @vexstrils @notchia @dollypoetry @cherrysoulth @burnahtsw @icantpickabiasugh @megaamonn

Jung freaking kook. Just look at him sitting over there, half-naked and wet. Sure, he’s got a towel thrown over a shoulder but it’s so small it’s doing fuck all to dry him off. Obviously he chose it on purpose. He thinks he’s such hot shit but you think he looks like a drowned rat.

And look! He’s got Namjoon’s apartment floor drenched with the pool water he tracked in! Man, if this was your place you’d be handing him a nice mop and bucket right about now.

"They were begging me to go a fourth round, but I was winding down, y'know?" Jungkook's voice echos obnoxiously off the walls. You mentally roll your eyes. He’s got a big mouth too. This must be your twentieth time hearing the same spiel about his little rendezvous with two chicks during undergrad. News flash Jungkook, you're not a god!

The guys are into it, though. You scan the room. Hoseok's on the verge of drooling, and Jimin can't stop grinning. Namjoon and Seokjin are leaning back in their seats, slight smirks pulling at the corners of their mouths. And Taehyung? Don't even get started on him. The man excused himself for the bathroom about ten minutes ago and is still yet to return.

Men. You decided to spend your one free Saturday with men.

You should have accepted Soyeon's offer to go drinking instead. This was the downside of being one of the only females in this so-called "friend group". None of your girlfriends were here! Sure, other women were around, but they were far too busy slinging themselves all over that perfectly chiseled bod–no.

Don't finish that thought.

Lots of guys go to the gym, __. Jungkook is nothing special. These women are obviously brainwashed; unlike them, you don't have time for his little boy games. It's time to get out of here.

"Okay, well, I'm heading out. Nice seeing everyone," you say, rising from your seat.

Jimin whips his head around. "What, already? We haven't gotten to the good part yet."

“There’s a good part?" You scoff. “Or, you mean Jungkook making girl number two squirt all over the bed? Heard it before, don't need to hear it again."

"It was girl number one," Jungkook butts in, eager to correct.

Whatever. You swing the apartment door open, phone and keys in hand. "See most of you on work Monday." You allow the door to slam behind you.

"She okay?" Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, wheels turn in his head.

"Don't worry about her. Work's probably got her beat." Namjoon cracks open a can of beer unfazed.

Jungkook nods, chewing on the bottom of his lip. "Does she–"

"The answer's no. __ doesn't need a good fuck, so put those thoughts away."

Shit, Jungkook swears internally.

Monday morning comes like hell on your doorstep. You're groggy when you wake up, barely getting to the shower. You considered skipping the ritual entirely but couldn't, not with how gross you felt. Project deadlines were right on your tail too, so you needed to either slap yourself awake or kiss your precious job promotion goodbye. You choose the later.

"Hey Minji, how are those files coming along?" You round the corner of the small office. It's 10 o'clock now, and everyone is typing, scanning, copying, and making phone calls until steam comes out of their ears.

"Almost finished." Your coworker, only a few years younger, responds. "Just have to tie up some loose ends, and then I'll hand them to you for review."

"Great. Thanks for–" You pause when you catch a slight grin spreading across Minji's face. Despite all the chaos today, Minji's definitely been the most cheerful. "You seem really happy today. Something good happened recently?"

Minji suppresses the grin and squeezes her palms in her lap. “Nothing in particular. Just glad to be a part of the team."

"Yeah, right!" Hoseok sends a knowing smirk, nearing the two of you. "Someone had a busy night last night, huh? It's okay. __ is cool. You can tell her anything." Once close enough, your coworker pulls you into a casual side hug.

You grimace. It feels weird while at the office.

"Do you mind?" You shrug him off. "It's work hours."

"Well, actually," Minji starts, cheeks rising. "It's nothing like that. I'm going on a date tonight. I'm just a little excited."

Hoseok's mouth forms an 'o', eyes widening. "Really? Who is it?"

"Uh, his name's Jeon–"

"Jungkook?” Jimin’s head pokes up from across the cubicle. Eavesdropping as usual.

"No…," Minji replies. "Who's Jungkook?"

"He's just a close friend of ours." Hoseok gestures between the three of you. “He’s Jeon Jungkook.”

"He's only you guy's friend," you say bitterly. Considering that player as a friend is pushing it for you. Really pushing it.

"C'mon, what's with you and Jungkook?" Jimin says, shooting you a borderline glare. "You've had bad blood with the guy since you met him.”

"Oh, don't start with me Park,” you fold your arms. "You know exactly why I feel the way I do."

You think he'll have a comeback, but he doesn't. Jimin simply sighs and returns to his work. Figures he'd be the one to jump to Jungkook's defense. The man practically idolizes him. That, and he's been best friends with him for the past eight years. Loyalty sure has its perks.

"So! If it's not Jungkook, who's the guy?" Hoseok asks, hoping to switch the topic around.

Minji jolts up in her seat. “Wonwoo," she says. “His name’s Wonwoo. We ran into each other at a friend's birthday party last night."

"Well, good luck with him tonight," you reply, returning to your office. "I'm sure it'll go well." Enough small talk. You have a whole seven hours plus of work left.

6:45 p.m.

The clock on your screen blinks at you. Everyone's gone home by now, and so should you. But you're still here, fingers frantically typing on the keyboard.

“__, go home already." Your finance officer, Min Yoongi, stands in the doorway, resting an arm against the frame. He's got his soft, leather briefcase in the other hand; yes, the one you got him for his birthday a couple months ago.

Yoongi was the only person in your department who often stayed as late as you. He looked like he was on his way out, though. Must have gotten what he wanted done. "I'll get there eventually," you say. "Just finishing some reports for our meeting tomorrow."

"What reports? They're all done."

"Well…my reports."

"You mean, the ones that we don't actually need?" He quirks a brow.

"They're extra just in case. There might be something off, and this might help." Yeah maybe you were making shit up to keep yourself busy, so sue you. What else were you going to preoccupy your time with? You already polished off the last pint of cookies and cream ice cream.

"You're cute." Pushing off the doorframe, Yoongi nears your desk. "You know boss doesn't look at them."

"You never kno–"

"Hey." The authority in your co-worker's voice makes you straighten your posture. "Let's cut the bullshit." In a moment of urgency, he leans his body between you and your computer.

"Excuse you?" You shove his shoulder with both hands, but he stands firm until your computer goes pitch black.

"Here's what we're gonna do." You're gently pulled up and out of your seat by the wrist. "I'm gonna get a drink, and you're coming with me."

The man gathers your coat and bag, slinging them over a shoulder. You feel your legs being lifted off the ground soon after. "I can walk, you know." You reflexively kick your feet in protest. It's been a while since he's picked you up like this.

Yoongi switches off the light and makes his way to the elevator at the end of hall. "Not right now, you can't." He pushes the button, calling it up.

"Ah look at you," you purr, locking your arms around his neck. "Someone's been watching k-dramas after hours. Trying to confess or something?"

He enters the elevator for both of you, amused by your playful remark. "I consider you my friend, __. But if I were trying to confess, I'd just come out with it. Subliminal messaging isn't really my thing.”

Understanding his notion, you close your mouth. What were you supposed to say to that?

You aimlessly watch as the woman pours freshly shaken alcohol into a short, round glass. She finishes the concoction by sticking an orange wedge along the rim. A cocktail, a classic but timeless favorite. Yoongi takes a sip of his whiskey and tilts his head towards you. "Whenever you're ready to spill your guts, let me know." 

"Hmm? I don't have anything going on." You down a shot yourself. "Nothing to spill here." 

He gives his glass a gentle swirl, liquid splashes against the sides. 

"Why are you looking at me like that? Nothing's wrong," you say. 

He sets his glass on the bartop, straight-faced. 

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at. We just came for a drink." 

"It's him, isn't it? Bunny boy with the six pack."

Your nose scrunches knowing exactly who he's referring to. With little thought you give a short 'no'. 

Yoongi stares at you nonchalantly. "Nice try, but I'm not an idiot, __. I don't know the guy that well, but I know enough that he's been on your mind a lot. You've been real prickly towards him too. Something tells me he's the reason you've been burying yourself in work lately.” 

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm just committed to my work. You know me, Ms. married to her job and all." You feign a chuckle. "I assure you, Ju–he's the furthest thing from my mind." 

“Mhm...right." He hums unconvinced. "Tell me ms. married to her job, why won't you say his name?"

"Because-" You cut shortly. "I'd rather not think of him right now. Can't we talk about something else or drink in peace?" 

He reaches for another taste of his burning liquor. "Alright."

Minutes pass before either of you speaks. You and Yoongi do this often, and you cherish it quite a bit. Sitting in silence after a long day at work soothes both your minds. But the man was right. Your mind isn't settled at all. No. It's buzzing with constant deadlines, family expectations, social commitments–  

"Okay it's him!" you blurt out, earning the attention of a few passing diners and even the bartender herself. Shoulders slouch as you grip the glass in front of you. Your eyes shift to your right, side-eyeing Yoongi, silently staring back at you.

"Jungkook...he’s just frustrating,” you finally say. “Fucking this girl, fucking that girl. Do you think I wanna know how many places he's stuck it in? No, I don't. But does that stop him?“

 You down your second shot. 

"He's been going on about the same lay for three years now. Three years, Yoongi. Honestly, how long's he going to keep it up? ‘They were begging to go again’, like who fucking cares?!” Blood boils through your veins.

A third shot. 

"I mean, how good can he be? If you asked me, he's average! Average Jeon Jungkook with probably an even more average dick!” 

“Damn, you’re pretty feisty angel.” A man slides on the stool to your left. “Calling me average and everything. Kinda hurts my feelings y’know?” 

You nearly choke picking up the man’s voice and scent– fuckin' Jungkook.

You swivel to face him. “Drop the pet names Jeon. I'm not your angel, and I seriously doubt I’m wounding any so called ‘feelings’,” you spit. “Why don’t you take your ego somewhere else…” You nod at the group of women gawking in the corner. Jungkook follows your gaze before meeting your eyes again.

"Not interested," he shrugs his shoulders.

“Oh wow, really?” Maybe sarcasm wasn’t the best way to go but since when did Jungkook start passing up overly eager women…shocker.

"Don't be insulting, __. I probably sleep around a lot more in your head than in real life."

"Please, who are you fooling," you reach for your fourth shot. Jungkook steals it out of your hand, however, shaking his head. 

"No, no, no." He sets the glass on his other side, furthest from your grasp. "Someone might be getting a little ahead of herself." 

Teeth clench. Is he patronising you?

"Do you mind?" The words spit out of your mouth. "I'm trying to sit and have a nice drink with my friend."

"And what friend would that be?" Jungkook leans forward in his seat, sparing a glance past your figure. 

"Yoongi."

"Oh, him…hate to break it to you but he left with some woman earlier.” 

You turn around immediately. He's gotta be messing around but damn– Yoongi really left you. That little snake. He'll be hearing from you tomorrow.

Rising from the barstool, you snatch your belongings and make your way to the exit.

.

"Where are you going, __?” Heavy feet patter after you, following you to the parking lot. "Just 'cause Yoongi's gone doesn't mean you have to leave." 

"I'm going home, Jungkook. 6am comes awfully quick." You want him to take the hint that you don't wanna stay but no such luck. You're instead blocked in your path, Jungkook facing you square on. He's a little close, but it doesn't matter. You'll just push around him.

"Alright, I'm sorry!" He wets his bottom lip. "If I've been too explicit about my private life, I'm sorry.” You watch as he rubs the side of his neck. “I tend-I tend to get carried away, especially around the guys. But after hearing what you said back there, I realize I should chill a little."

"Congratulations, you've figured it out.” You stare blankly at the man. “Can I leave now?" Brushing past him, you open your car door and jump inside. Dumb apology.

Fingers reach to shut the door, but Jungkook grips the rim, propping it open. "That can't be all." He leans down, shaking his head. "You clearly have some kind of vendetta against me and I'd like you to tell me why…please." 

You blink up, patience running thin. You’re wondering what you should say to get him off your tail, but the longer you linger the more it’ll look like you’re staring. And heaven knows Jungkook gets enough eyes on him as is, especially with his biceps bulging from his shirt.

Not that you’re paying attention or anything but take tonight for instance with those women ogling him in the bar. Like, did he have to wear a white tank top tonight? Show off.

“You’re so arrogant,” you say, clenching your fists. "You act like you're the best thing this world's ever gotten."

It’s obvious that your words strike a cord inside Jungkook. His face, riddled with concern and protest. 'Him, arrogant? What on earth is this woman talking about?' his eyes say.

"That's not true. When have I ever acted like that?"

Baffled. That’s what you are. It takes every ounce of gull left in your body to step out and meet the man at eye level.

"You're kidding. What do you call the constant retelling of your college fling then? Because you sure love the pedestal it gives you! Must have heard it fifty fricken times by now."

"Okay, maybe a bit then, but like I said I just get carried away. Lost in the moment if you will. The guys wanna hear it anyway, and it's just one story, __. Hardly enough basis to say I love myself or some shit."

"But that's exactly it, Jeon. You think everyone will worship at your feet just because you have that one story, a bunny like smile, and the body of a–"

"Woah, wait a second. Did you say worship at my feet? I get you're pissed off at me but come on, that's a bit much."

"It's n---shut up Jungkook!" You snarl. How dare he interrupt you after demanding you to tell him what's wrong. "Don't you ever get tired of running your mouth all the time?!"

"Me running my mouth? You're the one yelling sweetheart." His icy tone sets you off.

"Listen asshole, just for once, can't you just listen! You're so average, fuck!"

"Alright babe, I hear you, damn!" His eyebrows knit together. "And stop saying that I'm average! I'm not, okay?"

"There you go again, acting all entitled with that over inflated ego. I said it before and I'll never stop saying it–you're an average fuck! I don't care how many people you get in your bed."

Jungkook paces backwards, fingers laced behind his head. He cranks his neck back and chuckles. "Oh sweetheart, that's where you're so, so wrong."

"No idea what you're talking about," you say, unmoved.

He steps forward, complete disregard for your personal space. His breath heats your skin. "You absolutely care who I'm with...who I'm talking to...and especially who I'm fucking." He places a hand on the roof of your car. "You care so much that it's eating at you, bit by bit."

You do all you can to ignore the way the back of your neck fires up and how your heart picks up as he speaks but–dammit, this isn't the time! He's messing with your sanity. Or maybe, it's the shots kicking in. Both likely. Either way, you’ll be damned if you let him catch on.

"Fuck off Jungkook!" You push against his muscular chest. The force should have sent him stumbling back, but it only makes him slightly jolt. Courtesy of his rock-solid form.

"Why? 'Cause I'm right?" He traces down your figure. “ 'Cause you're scared of what will happen once we get close?”

Palms sweating, you struggle to form a proper response.

Option A: No, you're not scared in which Jungkook will likely challenge you.

Option B: Yes you're scared in which you let Jungkook be right and your efforts will be in vain.

Or Option C, what you've been doing all along: Fuck off!

Lust clouds over Jungkook's eyes as you remain motionless.

"How 'bout you prove it to me." His voice cuts through your contemplation. "That I'm wrong, that you don't want this, and I'll do the same for you."

You know exactly what he's insinuating– a one night stand. You swore you'd never give in to his antics. Then again, you never thought things would escalate this far either.

But if you agree to sleep with him now, you'll look like a hypocrite. And what of the countless speeches you made about not wanting to be another one of his swooning, giddy women? Still… it's not like you want to sleep with him. And if you do sleep with him, and he's average after all, you'll finally have something to testify to.

That'll knock him down a few pegs. 

"So…" You hear Jungkook drawl. "Is that smug expression you got on a yes?" 

"Hurry up and unlock the door,” you snap, manners going awry. “I wanna get this done as soon as possible.”

"Relax will you.” Jungkook fiddles with his keys, nearly dropping them with every shuffle. “So bratty when you’re down to get some.” He ushers you forward once managing to crank the door open.

You ignore his snide remark, taking in the spacious room. “Don't tell me that's your bed,” you say. There, in the middle of the living room was a mattress. It was on the smaller side but not in bad shape. If that’s where Jungkook intends to give it to you though, you’ll gladly walk out.

“Seriously?” You're thrown a slightly pissed expression. “It’s for emergencies, okay? My room's down here." He breezes down the hall adjacent to the living room. You follow.

“Better?” A lamp switches on from the corner of the bedroom. The room’s a little bare but you can’t complain, at least it was clean.

"Yeah, its fine." You flicker your eyes at Jungkook, arms length away. Chest tightens, legs begin to shake.

This isn't a dream. You're fully conscious and you're about to jump in bed with Jeon Jungkook.

Inadvertently, you pause down at his lips–they look soft.

Oh fuck it...you can’t stomach anymore delays.

Feeling the adrenaline, you shake your coat off and toss it on the chair to the side. You march up to Jungkook next, grip the fabric of his shirt, and smash your lips against his.

It's unusual at first, sloppy even. You're moving your lips the best you can but it's a struggle getting into a rhythm. Likely because you've never kissed each other before, let alone made out.

The temptation to snort at how ridiculous the whole thing must look jabs at you. But it's when you feel Jungkook smiling through each kiss that it hits you like a ton of bricks–your lips have been the only ones moving.

"So that's how you kiss huh?" Breaking apart, he stares down at you, tongue in cheek. He's teasing you.

Rather than give an answer you smirk and twist the fabric of his shirt. You press your lips to his again but this time it's with more confidence and determination. A heavy grunt falls from his mouth and rough hands grip your hips as teeth clash against teeth.

"Fuck, slow down baby," Jungkook pants between kisses.

You ignore his plead and card through his hair with both hands, yanking on his soft, black strands. "I'm not your baby, Jungkook. Remember that."

Your back slams against the door instantly, knob rattling at the sudden pressure. With one hand, he anchors your wrists above your head while the tatted one wraps tightly around your waist. Saying this isn't turning you on would be a lie, a big fat lie.

"What do you want me to call you then?" Your thighs squeeze together when you feel his bulge brush against your center. His pecs graze atop your breasts too, causing a shiver down your spine. "Can't call you baby, can't call you angel."

You bite the inside of your cheek and gaze at Jungkook through your lashes. A devilish smirk spreads across his face at your chosen silence.

"Guess I'll have to figure it out along the way."

He inches forward, capturing your lips. His tongue licks the seam before pushing in the crevasse. Though you fight, you can't stop from moaning into his mouth.

You find your thoughts drifting to all the other places you'll feel his tongue tonight. Maybe on your neck, or your breasts, inside your thighs–fuck. You're about to soak your panties to bunny boy.

One by one, you feel the buttons of your silk blouse being pulled apart. The delicate material pools at to your feet in seconds, leaving you in your lacy white bra.

"Pretty," Jungkook plays with a strap before bringing his hands down to cup the swell of your breasts. "Not what I expected though...thought red was more your color." He flashes a cocky smirk.

"Very funny, Jung–"

You gasp when his thumbs start swirling tiny circles around your clothed nipples. "How hard are they?" He says.

"Take it off and find out."

"Fuck.” He squeezes your breasts. "You sure?"

Once giving a nod, you're pulled to the bed. Jungkook guides you on your back before settling himself around your waist in a straddled position. When he leans forward to reach behind your back, you feel his length poke you.

"Mm," you muffle a small moan.

He raises a brow. "What's gonna happen when I'm inside you huh?" The straps of your bra sweep off your shoulders. Cool air hits your breasts, nipples pebbling instantly.

"I can take it," you say.

Jungkook's eyes dilate at your bare breasted state. "Sure you can babe." The tips of his fingers graze along your sides. "Cause I'm just an average fuck yeah?"

His palms cup the underside of your boobs, squeezing lightly. He then lowers his lips to the ridge of your ear.

"Gonna make you come by your tits pretty girl." Your back arches as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh.

"Jungkook-"

"Fuck," he hisses. "Rolls off your tongue just right." He trails from your neck down to your naval, leaving open mouth kisses along the way.

Your core twists at the warm sensation. You wanna tell him not to leave marks but something inside you secretly hopes he does.

Jungkook traces back up your torso, giving your buds a few flicks with his thumbs before taking one between his lips. He sucks firmly, switching between breasts. Occasionally you let out a yelp when his teeth tug at them ever so slightly.

You desperately want to rub your thighs together due to the wetness pooling between them but the weight of Jungkook straddling you doesn't allow for much movement.

“Be a good girl and stay still," he says, cocky grin plastered on his face.

You're not a good girl, you pant back though your nearly frozen body would say otherwise.

A few more flicks of his tongue and you know he's made you come from your tits as promised.

Jungkook leans back on the his knees. "I really wanna fuck them now." He tugs on a nipple playfully but you slap his hand away.

"Don't even think about it," you say. "They're sore enough".

"You liked it though."

"Well no shit, I came didn't I? Can't believe it," you mumble under your breath. "Anyway, it's your turn now. Take your shirt off," you nearly demand."

"Even after coming, you're still a fiesty little kitten." He brings his arms around his waist. Your core tightens as you watch the white tank top lift up his muscular upper body and over his head.

"Satisfied?" He studies your expressions.

Instinctively, you trace down his sweaty build; starting with the collarbone. You work your way over to his shoulders after until his pecs draw your attention. And then his diaphragm, leading to the ‘v’ outlining his pelvis.

"Take them off too."

Jungkook gives you a pleased look. "Wanna see how average my cock is?"

You move to an upright position, face close to his. "More like wanna see what it can do." You snap the band of his sweats. "Hmm, what'd you think about that playboy?"

Jungkook's cock twitches. He needs to be inside you before he blows a load in his pants here and now. He gets up from the bed, hooks his thumbs in his sweats and pulls them down along with his briefs.

Alarms go off in your head as his half-harden cock is yanked out of it's confinement. It slaps against his abdomen, tip glowing with precum.

Swallowing, you fiddle with your own pants. It's huge and it's going inside you.

"What if I told you I wanna taste you first?"

You pause your movements and peer up at the man. "You mean...down there?"

You wanna slap yourself from how naive you sound but the thought of Jungkook's head between your legs was an affair you'd never predict to happen.

"Yeah pretty girl," Jungkook quips. "There."

"Uhm," you breath, stomach doing somersaults. "Okay."

He settles between your legs this time, panties kicked off in some odd corner of the room. He gives your inner thigh a kiss before running a finger up your slit.

A lusty moan leaves your lips.

He pushes in a moment later, making you gasp for air. Another finger pushes along side it and after a few pumps he's perfectly stimulating your g-spot.

"Jung-Jungkook fuck!" You grip the sheets from under you.

He brings his thumb over your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves. "Am I doing it right __?" He's teasing again.

You nod vigorously. "Don't stop...please. Don't you dare stop."

Jungkook hums in approval, low and breathy, but retracts his fingers from your soaking cunt. They're quickly replaced with his tongue however, licking a broad stripe up your folds. The action is repeated over and over until your once again digging your nails into his scalp.

"M' gonna come," you say with a shaky voice.

As if an invitation, he dips in your heat. A string of profanities spill out.

Shit shit shit, you chant as you release on his tongue.

Jungkook lifts his head up from between your legs and wipes his mouth off. "You're fucking sexy." He presses a deep kiss on your lips, long and messy. "And you taste sweet too."

"Fuck me," you nearly beg. "And call me a slut while your at it."

"You su–"

"You don't have to use a condom either. I'm on the pill."

"Real–"

"Yes Jungkook."

He shifts back from your body, chest inflating and deflating. "On your hands and knees then."

As soon as the words leave his mouth you flip over, your full backside in his view. Did you feel exposed? Hell yeah. But that's part of the fun.

You turn your head over a shoulder to see Jungkook inching behind you. From this angle you feel so small. You bite your lip, anticipation driving you wild.

"Don't forget what I asked for earlier playboy."

Hovering over your back, his breath tickling your skin. "And what makes you think I'll listen to you pretty girl?" His length brushes between your asscheeks.

You whine.

"Jungkook–"

All at once he aligns himself with your hole and thrusts himself in. The fullness of the stretch has your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Fuck, you're so big," you moan.

"Yeah? You like this," he grunts, starting off a steady pace. "I knew you would." He nips your ear. "Cute how dumb little sluts like you think they know what they want, but really, they don't have a clue."

Your breathe hitches, squeezing around his length. "What about---fuck---assholes like you who decide what others want before asking?"

The bed jolts forward. You cling to all you can to steady yourself.

"It's not really deciding for others if they already want it, is it?" He snaps his hips. "I'm merely helping them, like an asset."

"Shu---god fuck!"

"Deny it all you want but we both know how hard this little pussy's clenching around my big, fat cock. Been wanting this for a while hasn't it?" Beads of sweat drip from Jungkook's brow. His wavy, black locks dangle in front of his eyes.

Helplessly, you start rocking yourself on him, meeting his thrusts in perfect sync.

"Holy shit–" Jungkook groans. "You get me so fucking turned around. Can't even be in a room with me for five minutes before you're clawing for a way out but here you are, desperate to take my cock."

"What can I say," you barely gasp, beyond wound up. "Can't stand arrogant jerks like you."

He snorts. "But you'll sure fuck 'em won't you? Slut."

Walls tightening, knees shaking, it takes only one last hard thrust and you're spasming around him.

Jungkook coaxes you through your high with broken grunts. "Fuck, you feel so tight and warm around me. Gonna come pretty girl? Gonna come all over my cock aren't you?"

"Jung---Jungkook!"

"It's okay sweetheart, you can do it. Fucking cream it."

And you do.

With his cock coated with your cum, Jungkook fucks through his own high. "Hang in there __, I'm almost there," he says, thrusts sloppy.

Once he releases into you his body grows limp on yours. A small yelp tells him to slide out and off you.

As you lie next to each other, panting heavily, you're the first to break the silence.

"I think I've proven my point. You gonna shut up about your story now?"

"I don't know which point that would be but sure," Jungkook turns his head to the side with a lazy smirk. "I'll shut up about the story. I have a new one on my mind anyway."

God what have you done. Uncaged the beast, that's what.

A/N: thanks for stopping by, happy to hear your thoughts ☺💗

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work

© kookslastbutton

[the-writer-arrived]

At Your Service, Master

Synopsis: you stand in front of your lover in a rather... unexpected outfit. how does he react?

Character: diluc ragnvindr.

Warnings: afab!fem!reader; not full on smut, but borderlining it LMAO; established relationship (marriage).

A/N: another diluc brainrot provided by a certain friend of mine. i might make another version of this for wriothesley, but idk.

<<This work has adult themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>

You have no idea how long you've been staring at the door of Diluc's office, but it's probably been quite a lot time already.

You're torn between grasping at the earlier boldness that made you wear this skimpy outfit or letting the embarrasment consume you and give up on this whole 'seducing my husband to make him pay attention to me' plan.

Honestly, you've never once imagined yourself wearing something so revealing like this: the top hugs your figure perfectly, but it barely covers your chest with such a low cut; the skirt? The tiniest piece of cloth you've ever seen! In what world would that be considered a 'maid' outfit?!

You try not to think too much about the knowing wink Adelinde sent you when she gave you the package, and then basically banned everyone from being around Master Diluc's office for the rest of the day.

...

'Screw it, I already got this far.'

You knock on the door, gathering as much courage as possible, before you step inside the room.

Inside, you see your beloved husband, who you haven't seen in a good while despite living under the same roof and sharing the same bed. His complexion bears clear signs of fatigue and stress, which you fear he may been neglecting his well-being.

"Leave the documents at the pile over there, Elzer. I shall take a look at them in a minute."

The tiredness is also present in his voice and the way his eyes don't leave the papers before him.

"I didn't come here to deliver documents, though."

If you weren't so nervous, you would have laughed at the myriad of emotions your lover expressed in less than a second. The deep frown faded the moment he recognized your melodic voice, empty gaze lighting up like the stars and the warm smile growing on his lips freeze in place when he finally looks at you.

Knowing how shy the man can be, especially regarding his beatiful wife, you were certain Diluc would be red as a tomato when you show up in front of him, in an outfit far more revealing than anything you've wore before. Much to your surprise, however, he isn't. In fact, he's staring so intensely at you that you begin to second guess if that was a good idea.

Before you could say anything, your husband gets up from his seat, taking slow steps towards your form. His red eyes roam your body from head to toe, taking in every single detail (including the way your breathing seems quicker than normal and that delightful blush on your cheeks).

He stops behind you, his hands itching to touch the most valuable treasure in his life, but not before asking for your permission. He leans close, so very close to your ear that you can't help but shiver at the feeling of his breath and the sound of his voice (which is slightly shaky, as if he's trying desperately to hold himself back from pouncing on his beloved).

"May I touch you, my love?"

You swallow your nervousness, licking your dry lips before you quietly speak the words that you're sure will flip his switch.

"You may do whatever you want with me, Master."

With a curse word under his breath, Diluc's lips latch on your neck, strong arms pulling your body against his.

Did you change your perfume or has it been that long that he doesn't even recall your scent? Regardless of which is the truth, right here, right now, his focus is solely on you, you, you.

Your scent, your warmth, your softness, by the archons, he has missed you so much.

You're glad to be in your husband's hold, otherwise your shaky legs wouldn't be able to keep you upright for long.

His lips leaving hickeys that won't be easily covered, his right hand massaging your breast while his left one travels to between your thighs, a finger rubbing your pussy through your damp panties...

It's too much, far too much. But also not nearly enough.

Diluc groans, hiding his face further into your neck, when he feels your rear rubbing on his clothed erection, which only causes you to moan more.

"...Tell me you're free for the rest of the day."

He holds your chin to make you look at him and his state leaves you even wetter: pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted, hair messed up from your hand playing with it... Fuck, you need this man right now.

"Yes... I'm at your service for the whole day, Master Diluc..."

Your words barely leave your mouth and you're suddenly being carried to the office's couch, your kind master ready to reward his new maid.

(Despite the door not being locked, no one at the Dawn Winery dares to interrupt the very important and much needed private time of their Mr. & Mrs. Ragnvindr...)

(Although some servants create bets if they will soon hear news of their lady having an heir after today).

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

red diluc banner (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[scoutswritingcorner]

lmao i see Rosie just covering us in bite marks now. At our face it’s just lipstick but as you go down lower it gradually changes to bite marks.

omg Rosie definitely gives us random love bites (or nips, idk what you call them)

No but you are so right Anon, like people passing by just think that Rosie is just smooching you all up and while that is true it’s not the full truth. Your body is littered with fresh and healed bite marks, she’s very very careful not to bite a whole chunk of you off but it’s very apparent to those who look further can see the bandages starting at your shoulder.

And you’re just filled with love all the same just letting your very pretty girlfriend just bite you every now and then. She never bites deep enough on your neck, only soft little nibbles that make you feel how sharp her teeth are. But the rest of your body is free range for her to sink her teeth into you carefully! She’s a lady and will always ask for permission too and always helps soothe your pain afterwards! Oh boy and if you wear makeup and you “accidentally” leave your mark across her lips and cheeks she won’t say a thing.

This is going into NSFW territory but this woman just adores marking you up to show everyone who you belong to but when questioned about it she doesn’t say anything cause why would she? Yes she is a very classy and regal lady but sometimes they need to be feral and I like to think she quite enjoys showing her mark on you! No matter if it’s just her signature lipstick staining your adorable face, she will do it again! 

And when the poor fool questions you about the lipstick on your face? You just sigh dreamily and blush, you are so whipped for this woman it’s unreal.

[magicxc]

Frenemies

Pairings: Survey Corps - people they cannot STAND

Word Count: 1076

Warnings: none

A/N: Idk man I love a good tussle jskksks. Like give me two characters who absolutely hate each other! And with AOT I really don't have to look too far, yay. This is basically canon but it's funny to think about so here it is as well. 

Headcannons Masterlist

Eren  - Jean, Weak People

I think the Jean one gets over exaggerated a little, and for good reason too, cause the girlies be EATING with those tropes. But at the end of the day they have a mutual understanding and are cordial at best. They're mostly cool because they share mutual friends and spaces but it’s no longer beef per se. 

Hear me out, I don't think anyone wiping out 80% of humanity is willing to kick it with people who aint about it. Mans need someone who’s willing to stand on business behind him. Even throughout the show he’s always admitted to not liking people who’s willing to live like “livestock.” So this is not to be confused with physically weak people by the way but psychologically weak people. Essentially Eren has beef if you’re willing to take it lying down. 

Levi - Zeke

Listennnn I LIVE for their fight scenes okay lmao. Like it's almost always on sight for them and their lil jabs at one another? It’s chucklessss for me omg. Lets be clear, their beef is absolutely warranted. It can be safely argued that Levi doesnt really care for most people but Zeke?? Oh baby its all smoke for him. 

Erwin - The Government 

I swear if it wasn't for the literal fate of humanity and his brewing theory Erwin would've just said fuck it cause baybeeee, they wanted that man GONE. They've tried to get him fired, pointed guns in his face, and built a whole ass guillotine to unalive him; in front of the entire town mind you. Maybe that was the custom back then I don't know. I don’t remember Erwin outright saying that he doesn't fuck with the government but fuck it, I’ll say it for him. Cause I'll stand ten toes down behind this one here. 

Connie - Ymir

I promise you I let out a nasty ole chuckle at the thought cause he don't even dislike her fr fr. I think it's a situation similar to Eren and Jean's in the sense that their friends and environment often see them in the same places. Because if we’re being real, not only do they have little in common but they just don't really vibe like that. I think they could've been a little more cordial but Ymir be on her own timing and it's usually at the expense of the squad. Like when she made fun of Connie for suspecting his mother was a titan or when she kidnapped Historia like 3 times and put them all in danger. And I can't even be mad at Connie for being the voice of reason cause him calling her ugly was simply the truth. I, too, reared back when I first saw Ymir's titan form. 

Jean - Eren, Reiner, Annie, Bertholt

The whole Eren thing is basically squashed but it’s worth noting that if he were to see him in public, he’d walk the other way. 

I lowkey had to dig deep for this one cause I genuinely forgot. But even though they’re all kumbaya now, those three bitches literally watched his homie get half his face chewed off by a titan. Jean is absolutely pouring one out for Marco every birthday by the way, but yeahh it’s still fuck them. Like if they were playing uno stacked, he’d save all his draw 4’s and make them draw 16. 

Onyankopon - Yelena

I'm not too sure that Ony dislikes anyone honestly. But I'm going with Yelena here mostly because she’s the reason he found himself in his current predicament. On what was supposed to be a solid plan in motion to save his people quickly turned into Ony modernizing a primitive people, helping build their resources from scratch, having people question his race (and I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar it was mfs that got ignorant), seeming untrustworthy among his peers, almost getting killed, fighting in a war he had nothing to do with, and probably losing his entire family in the rumble. Now, one or two of those things were inevitable, but if you were to view things from Ony’s POV everything went to shit over a bitch with a fatal attraction to a man with daddy issues. 

Reiner - Himself

Lmaooo I LOVE a good Reiner drag. And while this started out as a joke, I'm deadass now. This man stays talking about wanting to end it all but never follows through, smh. With lots of therapy and support, I genuinely think that Reiner would be on the road to recovery and a healthy lifestyle; but there’ll always be that lingering thought on if he’s worth it or not

Honorable mention: Ymir. But solely because she would get in the way of his fantasy life with Historia. 

Armin - Floch? 

This munchkin is damn near Tanjiro levels of sweet cause omg who does he even hate??? He is always looking for the good in people and I'm about to dislocate my shoulder reaching this hard BUT, hear me out - It’s Floch even if he doesn’t outright say it. The same Floch who damaged the flying boat and almost ruined their mission before it even started? The same Floch who fucked it up so bad that Hange had to sacrifice herself which resulted in Armin taking on an even bigger responsibility? The same Floch who got in a lil too close with his bestie Eren? Close enough to be trusted with his future plans? The same Floch who when he lay on that ground bleeding Armin was nowhere in sight? Even at the port where they attacked the Yeagerists and Armin got shot in the face, he pleaded with his old comrades to stand down but Floch is beneath that level of reasoning huh? Whether Armin despises Floch or not it's safe to say if Floch were getting jumped, Armin would definitely sneak in a kick before helping. 

Floch - Erwin

This is literally one of those cases where its like I disagree but I understand lol. That man legit made them do a suicide charge and yeah he lead the charge blah blah blah but I could never be that brave. And so that resentment is understandable but in all fairness it shaped Flochs character for the better to be honest; cause that whole pwussy boi arc was annoying. 

Also adding the main cast of the Scouts lmao. They thwarted his plans and he spent his DYING breath standing on business. Gotta respect it.

Tags - @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

[lady-margaret]

bridgerton season 3 episode 4 screaming thoughts (unedited)

AW DEBLING THAT WAS SO CUTE 😭 colin step it up jeez

lol she likes that window cuz she can see the bridgerton house from there

oh ben is back at it again

CUTIE POMERANIAN

me and the queen thinking same thoughts cuz?????? how the hell brimsley reading all that from back there

i just know the queen is gonna hate the bridgertons when franny doesnt pick the marquis

HYACINTH 🤣🤣🤣

JOHN FCKING STIRLING JOHN STIRLING IS IN THE HOUSE YALL ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

VIOLET IS SO FUNNY WITH HER LOOKS LIKE SHE CAN JUST TELL RIGHT AWAY

wait theyre so funny 😭😭😭😭 not them literally sitting in silence

alice is gorgeous i cant wrap my head around their family storyline when shes onscreen

OMG IS THIS WHERE THEY’LL PLAY JEALOUS

eloise 😭 read the room 😭

o god colin

oh :((((((((((( oh lol nvm :>>>>>> theyre in agreement

hes so cute 🥹🥹🥹

hElp why am i rooting for debling COLIN DO BETTER !!!!!!! DAMN U COLIN what is it with him and 3somes

franny is so cute 🥹🥹🥹

pausing the ep to say that the visitor for cressida is def eloise

yep i was right

boys rly are boys at any period of time *sigh*

colin get out of there buddy … is he gonna wank it out

look okay portia does have a point but but but 🥺 love

did kate and anthony seriously go on an extended honeymoon 🙃 shes gonna be pregnant when they get back

violet knows what she’s doing and i love her for that

its the hairstyle of the queen the went viral

oh alice ur so beautiful

idk about this violet storyline 🥺 between me and her i feel like im the one who’s not over edmund 😭😭

i want eloise cressida and pen to be just friends and for cressida to say sorry to pen and grovel

LORD KILMARTIN BACK IN THE HOUSE i love him 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

philippa really selling the pregnant thingy 😭😭😭 o are they both pregnant

SNOW ON THE BEACH !!!!!!!!!!

eloise is back

O GOD COLIN ‼️

debling is connecting the dots

okay so colin, honey, listen. you will only resolve this if u like propose like rn

portia pls love ur daughter

AW IT WAS SHEET MUSIC??? 🥹🥹🥹💕

COLIN YES GO COLIN wait he ran after the carriage 🤭🤭

wait did they not play jealous at all yet? or have i missed it

COLIN SAY IT SAY ITTTTTTTTTTTTT

CARRIAGE SCENE PLS ‼️🤞🤞🤞

despite being the writer of the bridgerton family, and yes he is good with words, he has yet to have like a distinct monologue or line that becomes the pinnacle of the season

YES PENELOPE YES SPEAK UR TRUTH AND GET UR MAN

omg omg omg omg omg

i forgot what song title it is but omg its the pitch perfect song 😭

OH HES GOING FOR IT

seggs scenes are so awkward for me lmao

okay wait i love this

AHHHHHHHHH

oh no now he has to find out shes lady whistledown

OMG HE SAID THE THING HE SAID THE THING

[matan4il]

911 ep 705 first watch reactions

Of course 911 would "punish" the "You are the boss of you!" guy with an alien hand that attacks him, and does what it wants. Pooor Buck and Eddie paying the price for that...

Okay, love the storyline with Hen and Karen possibly eventually adopting an older girl. Too many shows just find easy, unrealistic ways to give their same sex couples kids, and I am really glad that 911 shows the reality of it, and that it is a more complex struggle for many, that it's an act of continuously choosing to be parents. That's actually an amazing, difficult thing, and it should be faithfully depicted and respected, for all of its heartache, and the little moments of triumph.

Buck and Tommy on a date, and Eddie comes along with Marisol? Love how Buck's bisexual awakening and coming out continues to involve Eddie so much. Tell me they're end game, even if they're not gonna get together right now, without telling me they're...

I did not need to learn Marisol is moving in with Eddie like this, with any build up, or even any sort of insight into the relationship, and nope, that does not bode well for them. IDK how 911 managed to do it, but they have somehow managed to give Eddie a love interest the show is even less invested in than Ana.

And the funniest bit, is that Marisol and Eddie's big development is only there to further Buck's journey anyway.

"You can never have too much closet space" LMAO the way 911 both made me laugh, and feel sorry for poor, baby bi Buck. XD

Hmmm. Were parts of this scene cut out? We don't get to see Eddie on his own date with Marisol, but constantly looking over at Tommy and Buck? Boo. I'm glad we at least got the BTS photos, then. But seriously, why!? That was gonna be so delicious.

Oh, Tommy's breaking up with Buck. I mean, good for him, and he ain't wrong after Buck's "after this, we're gonna go out looking for chicks" reaction, but man do I feel sorry for Buck. Him and Tommy might not be my end game (Buddie forever will be), but I do think this relationship could be good for our baby bi. Tommy being in the same profession, knowing what it's like to have this gap between who you are and the image of guys in your line of work, plus he's got more experience than Buck, is sure of himself, can help our boy figure himself out, and also Buck obviously does like his vibe. He deserves to be with someone he actually likes, not just the first woman willing to be with him that the plot pushed in his way.

Oh, baby Buck. :( You didn't even tell Maddie about Tommy. You really aren't ready it. But also (and as a Buddie shipper, more importantly), Tommy broke things off with Buck, but what is eating him up, is that he lied to Eddie. XD Yeah, this gonna end with wedding bells, sooner or later. On screen, off screen after the show ends with canon Buddie, or only in my head if 911 never dares make Buddie canon, I don't care. That kind of emotional devotion is not something that my hopelessly romantic heart can ignore.

OMG, this is how Buck comes out to Maddie? XD Via random pronoun mention, and as a by product of trying to figure out how to tell Eddie the truth? This is hilarious. lol It really makes it clear that, after all, the issue for Buck really isn't people knowing he is also dating guys (or checking their asses), even when it's the other closest person in the world for him, it's Eddie. Specifically. Buck's ready, even if he doesn't have the exact clear words yet, he's just not ready to tell Eddie. Can't imagine why. XDDD

What was that awkward post-sex scene with Eddie and Marisol? And the issues with her moving in are popping up a second after she has. But yeah, we have no idea who this woman is as a person, she's been a cardboard cut out so far, and then one of the first things we do learn about her, is that she would call her stuff better than Eddie's? Once again, this is not the stuff great romance is made of. Or... even just the stuff any kind of romance is made of.

Wait, Marisol was a nun, and Eddie didn't even know!? This whole ep is telegraphing in the news of how weird and awkward and underdeveloped this r/s is, not just for us as viewers who know nothing about Marisol, but apparently for Eddie as well.

And of course his Catholic guilt is gonna kick in now. I'd care, except 911 has given me absolutely no reason to. Seriously, I care more about Buck and Tommy after just 2 eps, than Eddie and Marisol, even though this is technically her 2nd season on the show.

Of course Buck went to find Eddie, and spotted him at the gym. Forever 201 vibes, with Eddie being the focus of Buck's attention. ^u^

I couldn't care less about Eddie's Catholic guilt crisis, and how it's actually a projection of what his real issues are with Marisol, but it's nice to see that as always, Buck's the one who can tell when something's off, and offer Eddie exactly what he needs (even when that's to talk to someone else, but Buck figures out immediately who the right person to address is), and then they just very naturally switch, because Eddie can also tell when something's off with Buck, and he wants to tell him something. Soulmates. THAT is the stuff that great romance IS made of.

:/ The imagery of Catholic nuns has not been around for over 2,000 years, please stop being ignorant about your own religion, and the very different way it looked in its early days.

Bobby is forgiven, he does give good advice, and his "her ex, the Lord" bit, which prompted that reaction from Eddie, is hilarious. XD

So... when Eddie is having issues with Marisol, he already knows he has to figure out how he feels about her, but instead of doing so, he goes to his safe place... Buck's loft.

Man, Eddie being into Tommy's choice of avoidning relationships with women, and hanging out with boys, after in the past, Eddie had dealt with his Shannon issues by running away from her, and re-enlisting in the army, where he gets to hang out with boys, when we all (Buck included) know why Tommy's "hanging out with boys"... I do like that if they want to (and hopefully they do), this further lays the groundwork for Eddie's own queer realization.

Buck and Eddie helping each other with their respective romantic problems, without realizing they are each other's respective romantic solution is gonna make me chew on my own fists. Again. But I'm not even a little bit surprised that Eddie was totally fine and accepting of Buck being bi, or that the first thing he thought of is how this reflects on them. Because their friendship IS way deeper and closer than normal for platonic friends, and Eddie's little reassurance is also an admission of that.

Man, for a second I was worried they also cut out Eddie in the loft, once more putting his thumb on Buck's pulse point possessively, in a perfect parallel to 303. I would have sued for emotional damages. But yeah, it says so much that the peak of emotional meaningfulness for Buck when coming out is in relation to Eddie, and that the scene itself peaks with Eddie, instead of finishing rushing out to take care of his own romantic business, hurries back to Buck first, to hug him, place his hand on Buck and give him orders. "Sure, you're gonna be dating this guy, but I'm still your real husband."

Well, at least Eddie amitted to himself and Marisol that he doesn't actually know her. But... I have never seen two people being both being so happy about not moving in together, and I'm supposed to think this r/s has a chance? Okay. Suuuure.

The scene with Buck going to Tommy to set things straight ready for something was lovely, it was nice seeing him excited, and get to choose, and hear he's wanted. But since the note Tommy and Buck's storyline in this ep should have ended on, is Buck showing Tommy he's ready enough to let others know he's dating a guy by inviting Tommy to come with Buck to Madney's wedding, then why is the very next scene playing the romantic switch again, making us think Buck's car just arrived at the wedding with him and Tommy, only for Buck and Eddie to walk in together? I see what you did there, 911.

Thank you for reading! If you're looking for more, you can find my s7 reactions tag here, and more of my Buddie meta and content in my pinned post. xoxox

[dandelionflowery]

GASP

i remember reading about your plans for the lily one and i liked the sound of it before i realized it was you

i just decided to send an ask to make it easier

oh, and the ideas you have for the eventual wolfstar?

I'm in love already

feel free to talk more about it

Oo other people actually read that? woah

Anyways glad you like it!!

(the lily one)

anyways i'm going to take the opportunity to copy the tags i wrote here and develop them again, so that i can find them better because i'm absolutely chaotic

warning: clicking the see more button will open up a ridiculously long thing lmao

"First love peter/sirius (but closeted peter so closeted relationship)"

Sirius Black first fell for Peter Pettigrew. At first, he had believed it was just friendship, after all, feeling really close to your friends was what was supposed to happen with friendships, right?

After having dreamed (dreamt?) of kissing Peter, Sirius is forced to admit that he might not be thinking of his friend in a purely platonic way...

Timeline (TL): New Year's, their second year (i can't be bothered to figure out what year everything is lol): Sirius tells Peter that he thinks he might be a homosexual and that he kinda has a crush on Peter

End of year: Remus has gone to see Madam Pomfrey and James is in the common room with... other people talking about... stuff Peter and Sirius are in their dorm, Peter is packing, Sirius is reading something. Remus has just walked out the door, and Sirius asks Peter if he would prefer him to leave, as since New Year's, Peter has been avoiding Sirius. Peter replies that it's fine and long story short Sirius and Peter have their first kiss.

Summer: They send each other letters with invisible ink or something idk yet

Third year, return from Christmas holidays: Sirius ends things with Peter, without much explanation, and he refuses to talk about what happened at his "home". (implied conversion therapy by his "family")

The two are never as close as they once were, but stay civil. Peter meanwhile is having an identity crisis bc i'm incapable of writing a non-aroace Peter lol

~~*~~

"Followed by marlene/sirius bc they're both denying they're gay + siri's parents found out he had been with a boy"

After the whole fiasco with Peter, and mostly his family finding out, Sirius kissed Marlene McKinnon during a game of truth or dare after having been dared by Mary MacDonald to kiss his crush.

He didn't like her, not like that, not like how he'd liked Peter, but his family seemed to think they had cured him of his ""mental illness"" and Marlene was a good enough friend that he could tolerate dating her.

[sidenote: this is going to be painful to write bc Sirius now thinks there's something wrong with him for being gay and he's going to look down on it a lot]

TL: Third year, May (approx): Sirius starts dating Marlene. Both soon realize they'd rather be dating someone of the same gender but internalized homophobia + keeping up appearances means that they keep dating till... idk, March of the following year?

March (?) of 4th year: Marlene and Sirius agree to break up momentarily so that Marlene can ask Dorcas out, and they'll get back together if Dorcas rejects Marlene.

Dorcas does not bc she's just as gay as Marlene.

Sirius is now single again.

~~*~~

"Then siri/lily bc marlene was like “fuck this i'm lesbian”

"And lily watched sirius help his friends and get into trouble for them and she found that really nice of him" (i can never remember to write them as bullying snape so either this is after he called lily mudblood or he's just not there lmao)

Remus and Lily are friends

TW: someone throwing up

Also bc i'm going to forget

* _____________________back of the room___________________

-------- -James- -Peter- -------- |

|-------- ---------- -Sirius- --------- |

|--------- -------- -------- -------- |

|--------- -------- -------- -------- |

|-Remus- --Lily-- -------- -------- |

| |

| -------McGonagall----- |

____________________front of the room_____________________*

there's a door at each of the stars

(things get way more detailed after this point lol)

From his seat in front of Peter, Sirius noticed movements coming from his ex and James. As the students were supposed to be writing in silence, Sirius tilted his head down as if he was concentrating on his writing but in reality this pose allowed him to see Peter and James.

Peter was throwing up. Sirius's heart lurched, he wanted to go help his friend, but Professor McGonagall would absolutely murder him, he'd already caused trouble in that period. From the corner of his eye, he could see James sneakily pointing his wand at Peter and vanishing the vomit/hiding Peter from their classmates view.

Sirius decided to risk Minnie's wrath and tossed his eraser at Remus. Luckily for him, Minerva was too busy at her desk to notice.

Remus turned around, causing Lily to follow his gaze, a reprimanding whisper clearly on her lips.

As they turned, they both saw Peter and James. Remus immediately nodded at Sirius and Lily closed her mouth.

Sirius let out a loud sigh, attracting attention to himself.

"This assignment is way too hard," he complained loudly.

Remus laughed, almost as if on cue, although they had never practiced this.

Professor M looked up from her desk, and caught a glimpse of James and Peter. She stayed where she was, watching Sirius and Remus.

Remus's laugh had attracted the class's attention to him, and he and Sirius continued to banter to distract everyone from Peter. Behind him, Sirius heard James whisper to Peter if he wanted to go to the hospital wing. There was no verbal answer from Peter, but James said "Pete, you're clearly sick, it would be a good idea-- come on Wormy-- *sigh* all right, I won't force you"

Remus was saying something about how the assignment was really not that hard, if only one had a little brainpower, to which Sirius automatically replied something. He noticed the person sitting behind Remus start to see through the glamour James and Sirius both put up around Peter, so Sirius said, "If you're so smart, Lupin, you don't need that eraser at your feet, do you? Because I believe that's mine."

Remus, getting the hint, prepared to throw it back to Sirius. McGonagall got up from her desk.

"Mister Lupin, you had better not throw that- "

She was interrupted by Remus throwing the eraser. Sirius pretended to fall over catching it, and James jumped up to catch him. This position effectively hid Peter from view as Sirius and James were in front of him (I'm not sure if i'm going to leave the fourth row on the right {of our screens, to the characters' lefts} bc it kinda messes with this scene).

Professor M walked over to Sirius and James, who disintangled each other, and James took the opportunity of walking back to his desk to recast his glamour on Peter.

"Mister Black, you will sit down and be quiet, and I would like to speak to you and Mister Lupin at the end of class."

Sirius nodded meekly. That was not a conversation he would look forward to.

McGonagall stayed behind Sirius for a moment, surveying her class.

"Well? Get back to work," she ordered.

Sirius felt her robes swish as she turned around discretely.

She stayed at the back of the class a moment longer and then walked back to her desk.

Sirius risked a look back at Peter and James, only to find that neither of them were there, and Peter's desk was spotless.

He smiled to himself. Minnie had convinced Peter to go out the back door with James with the hospital wing. No matter how much trouble he would get into, he had succeeded in his mission. Peter was worth it.

At the end of the class, Remus and Sirius waited for everyone to leave.

Lily was the last to leave, and Sirius heard her ask McGonagall if she should help take James and Peter's stuff for them. Minerva smiled at her student but told her that she would take care of it, and would Lily please leave the classroom to speed things up for Misters Black and Lupin.

Lily cast Remus and Sirius an anxious look as she left, clearly wanting to say something but not daring to contradict her head of house. Sirius assumed she wanted to tell McGonagall that Remus hadn't done anything wrong.

As soon as Lily had left the room, McGonagall smiled at the two boys in front of her, to their bewilderment.

"Normally I would punish you for disrupting my class, but I did see that it was for a noble cause. Your friends are in the hospital wing, so consider my punishment to take their belongings over there, and to stay and help Madam Pomfrey with whatever she needs for half an hour. I've written her a note explaining everything, and I'm sure she'll find something for you two to do."

Sirius and Remus thanked her and turned to get their friends' stuff.

"Now boys, don't take this as an excuse to cause more trouble, I'm excusing you this one time but don't get used to it."

"We won't!" they chorused as they left the room.

To Sirius's surprise, Lily was waiting for them.

"I should have said something, I don't want you two getting into trouble just because you were helping Peter, and I know that she'll believe me, even if she wouldn't believe you two, and oh I hope you aren't in too much trouble--"

"Lily. Chill," Remus said.

"You do know this isn't the first time we've gotten in trouble, right?" Sirius added.

"Well, yeah, I know, but usually you're just fooling around. Here you were trying to help your friend. You shouldn't get in trouble for that."

Remus glanced at Sirius slyly.

"We'll be martyrs, forever remembered as saints," he started, fully expecting Sirius to chime in.

"Oh, cut it out Rem. Minnie saw what we were doing, and our 'punishment' is just to drop off James and Peter's stuff at the hospital wing, and to help Poppy for only half an hour. I've spent entire days helping her, this is nothing."

Remus stared at him in surprise as Sirius started walking towards the hospital wing.

"I didn't know you'd spent time helping Poppy," Remus said as he caught up to his friend.

Sirius glanced back to find Lily following them. He shot Remus a look that meant, 'Does she know about your furryness?' Remus nodded almost imperceptibly.

Sensing Sirius's lingering hesitation about outing him as a werewolf to someone who already knew, [the Prank can... go suck a lemon? Bc I refuse to believe that] Remus prompted, "Oh, is it during the days after the full moon, when I'm recovering from my transformation? I kinda expected you guys slept, or went to class, or something, not that you helped Poppy."

"Nah, I like helping her, it makes me feel useful. Plus-" he shot another glance at Lily, "- at least this way I'm learning how to protect myself at home."

Lily made a sort of strangled noise.

"Yeah, my family's not great. Got a problem with that, Evans?"

Unconsciously, he and Remus drifted apart to let Lily walk in the middle.

"Well, it's- it's not a... well, not a good thing, is there nothing, i don't know, Dumbledore? can do for you?"

"About what? A pureblood family raising children?"

"But it's not right!"

"I can assure you I'm not the only one, and besides, what does Dumbledy care?"

"You're his student! He should care about your welfare!"

"Yeah? Well my parents are apparently supposed to love me and keep me safe, at least according to James, Remus and Peter, so forgive me if I don't believe in miracles from a guy who barely knows me."

Sirius strode ahead of Remus and Lily.

"Lily, we've had this argument with him many times, you won't win," Remus cut in before she could go after him. "Whoever you think would be a good candidate for helping him, he'll remind you that he shouldn't need help because his family isn't 'supposed to be like that'." After a pause, he added, "He's not wrong about that. It's best not to talk about his family with him."

Lily frowned but dropped the subject and asked Remus and Sirius about the assignment they had been working on as she and Remus caught up to their friend.

When they reached the infirmary doors, Lily paused.

"Sirius?" she asked, with an odd look on her face. "Could I talk to you?" With a glance at Remus, she added, "...Alone?"

"Am I in trouble, Evans?" he joked, while motioning Remus inside. Remus offered to take James's things inside for him, and Sirius ceded the bag to his friend before turning back to Lily.

Once Remus had gone into the hospital wing, Lily started talking.

"I won't keep you long [liar], I just wanted to say that I was really impressed by how you were willing to take the blame to protect your friend. And I know," she added hastily before Sirius could answer, "that you'll say that it was nothing, that 'that's just what friends do', that you've been in trouble before. But believe me, most people wouldn't do that. I don't think I know... anyone... who would go to such lengths just to save me embarrassment."

"What about your friends?" Sirius asked, curious. "Marlene, Mary, Emmeline, anyone?"

[the 'anyone' there is totally not bc i forgot who was in gryffindor with Lily lol /j- I know Alice (longbottom) was but I think she's older than the marauders]

Lily looked at the floor.

"We're friends, but... compared to you and your friends, it feels like we'd be much more selfish."

"For the record, Carrots, I'd get in trouble to help you too."

She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Really? But I thought you hated me for 'stealing' Remus from you?"

"I don't think that-"

"You literally said that yesterday," Lily pointed out.

"... Alright fine. But if Moony thinks you're worth spending time with, then you can't be so bad. Even if you have horrid taste in friends."

"I used to think Severus would help me, but..." she trailed off, and Sirius knew they were both picturing [Snape's Worst Memory]

(tags by the_infamous_jack on their fic, Boys will be bugs)

"As I said, you have horrible taste in friends. But yeah, if you had been the one vomiting all over your desk, I'd have helped you." Sirius paused. "Also, you seem to think that I'm this great guy for doing this, but let's be clear, if it had been Snivellus, I'd be mocking him for months."

Lily had that odd expression on her face again.

She licked her lips hesitantly, than reached up and kissed Sirius.

"Uh-..."

"Sorry, I should've asked you!! Oh I'm so sorry-"

"Don't sweat it, Carrots. ... Um, may I ask why you kissed me though?"

"Because that's what I was planning to ask you when I stopped you here," she admitted.

"Carrots! You, prim, perfect Lily Evans, you have a crush on lil ol' me?" Sirius teased.

To his surprise, Lily blushed and nodded.

"Don't look so shocked, Rebel, you're good looking, funny, smart- though you hide it- and now I find out you're a caring person who's extremely loyal to your friends- which apparently I am- and you're capable of not boasting."

Sirius felt himself redden.

"You're forgetting that I can be a right arse to people, and that I know spells that would make even ol' Dumbly gasp, thanks to my family."

Mentally, he added, 'And I only boast to draw attention away from how fucked up I am.'

Lily laughed and swatted his arm gently.

"The only people I've seen you be an arse to are Sev- Snape and his friends and... you're not wrong about him. And as to what your family taught you, you had no control over that. Sev- Snape now knows a lot of the things you grew up with, but he's looking for that stuff whereas you're actively avoiding it."

Sirius looked down at the floor, somewhat embarrassed by how easily Lily had been able to figure him out.

"Gee, Carrots, you seem to know a lot about me, have you been watching me all these years?" he teased, to avoid feeling like his soul was bared to the world.

Lily giggled.

"Well, Rebel, as I said, you're good looking. Is it my fault if I picked up how you act while I was staring at your bum?"

"Better watch out, Lilypad, you'll end up a rebel like me if you keep this up."

Lily smiled at the new nickname.

"Well, darling," she bit back, "I wouldn't have thought that would bother you?"

Sirius flashed her a grin.

"Quite right, love, I wouldn't mind."

Lily mouthed, 'love?' in shock, and smiled at him, a real smile, not meant to tease him.

'Shit,' thought Sirius.

"Uh- well, I should go in-" he gestured at the doors- "to see Peter, and fulfill my 'punishment'-"

Lily kissed him again.

Sirius's breath caught in his throat, and then, hesitantly, he kissed her back.

She skipped away a few paces, then turned and called out, "See you later, Rebel!"

He raised his hand in a half-hearted wave.

"Later, Carrots!"

He opened the doors, still tasting Lily on his lips.

'My family was right, I'm not a homosexual, girls are into me, and I'm... into girls too. Definitely.'

'...What am I going to tell James...'

No TL here bc I'm going to do it after the next bit, as they overlap.

Fun fact: When I wrote this, the nickname switch was totally accidental, but I like the fact that Sirius calls Lily "Evans" until the second Remus leaves, where he starts calling her "Carrots"

~~*~~

"And there's also brief and again secret starbucks bc he's dating lily to seem straight (even if the blacks would not approve of a muggleborn but he has a crush on james bc well, james is awesome lol"

Sirius had asked James to help him with spells such as the one he'd used to clean up after Peter, and the two boys were outside in the sun to practice.

"Now, mama says that this is one of the essential spells to know for a homeowner, it's one of..." James muttered something in a language Sirius didn't understand. "-173 Spells to Know If You Are Alive."

Ah, he had been translating the number Effie had told him in Hindi to English. Sirius understood the feeling as none of the marauders had learned to count in English at first since there were no maths classes at Hogwarts; James had been taught by his Indian mum in Hindi, Remus had been taught by his parents in Welsh and Peter had gone to primary school while he was living with his dad in Ireland and had learned in Irish Gaelic before learning in English. As for Sirius himself- and his brother- their parents had hired French tutors to teach them. Walburga and Orion were in no way good parents, but at least they had gotten their children good educations. It was the only thing Sirius would ever thank them for.

"Siri?" James's voice interrupted his musings.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry."

James had been trying to show him a wand movement and Sirius was now supposed to copy it.

James watched as Sirius tried the spell.

"Hmm, not bad for a first try! You actually seem to have the hard part down really well, you're just going too strong on that first part," James advised.

Sirius flushed at the praise.

Of course he flushed at praise, he had been raised in the Black family. It certainly had nothing to do with how close James was, how the light got caught in a halo of gold in his curls, how his glasses kept slipping down his nose, how pleased James was with Sirius...

Sirius shook himself out of his (totally heterosexual, totally platonic) admiration and tried the spell again. James's advice actually really improved the spell, but something was still off. At James's request, Sirius repeated the spell a few times.

"Ahah! I think I see the problem."

James moved behind Sirius, who felt his muscles tense at his proximity.

"See, what you're doing is this," James put his hand on Sirius's wand hand, demonstrating.

"And while that's almost it, you have to move your arm more like this." James's left hand pushed Sirius's left shoulder forwards slightly, allowing his right arm to move a bit further back.

James demonstrated the correct wand movement, using Sirius as a puppet, then stepped back to let Sirius try it on his own.

Sirius pretended not to mourn the loss of James's body against his.

"Very good!" James applauded as Sirius mastered the spell. The boxes he'd just packed tumbled to the ground as the two friends collapsed on the grass.

"James?" Sirius asked.

"Mhm?"

"You know how Lily kissed me, and wants to date me?"

"How could I forget such betrayal!?" James asked theatrically. "Yeah, I remember, what's up?" he asked more seriously. He could tell Sirius wasn't in a super joky mood.

"Well, I... I have a crush on someone else."

"You can tell her that, I'm sure she'd understand," James pointed out.

"No, I can't, because-" Sirius exclaimed.

James rose up on elbow to look at Sirius.

"Because?" he finally prompted when Sirius didn't continue.

"Because I... have a crush on... a guy."

"Oh. You're gay?" James asked. There was no fear, no hate in his tone or face, it was simply an innocent question. Sirius fell even more in love.

"... Yeah, I guess I am," he said finally.

"Congrats then." He lay back down. "I still don't see why you can't tell Lily though."

Sirius sighed.

"I think I'm going to go out with her anyways, it's not like the guy I like likes me back."

He heard James open his mouth, hesitate, and change tracks.

"There's another reason, isn't there," he stated.

Sirius sighed again. This would require telling James a lot of things he'd kept hidden. He almost wanted to hate James for being so observant, but he could never hate James for anything, and maybe telling him would lighten the weight the secrets pressed on him.

James seemed to understand that Sirius was willing to tell him, but was struggling to find words. Sirius was very grateful for his friend's patience.

"They... found out somehow..." he started slowly.

"Your family?" James murmured, turning his head to gaze at Sirius.

Sirius nodded, suddenly aware of how close they were.

"I... I had... I managed to find someone I liked, a boy, who liked me back," Sirius continued, careful not to say Peter's name. "We actually even started dating, and we were each other's first kisses."

"I didn't know that. When was this?" James asked softly. He seemed to be even closer; his eyes, magnified by his glasses, seemed to be the only thing in the world.

"In second year. Well, over the summer after second year is when we 'dated' most actively, but I'd confessed my feelings for him on New Year's. We had a system for sending messages that my family couldn't read, and I managed to convince them to let me have him over, as a sort of 'training' for him..." Sirius trailed off, a soft smile forming on his lips despite his best efforts.

"I never told you guys because he was still closeted, and he didn't want anyone to know. I also wouldn't have been excited to tell everyone, for fear of my family finding out, but I would have told you guys if he'd been ok with it;"

Sirius realized suddenly [I really need to learn more expressions for that] that James's nose was only about a millimeter away from his own as James breathed, "And then? What happened? You dated Marlene in third year."

Sirius swallowed nervously, both from the proximity of his crush (and how his breath felt, hot on his cheek) and also from the memory.

"Over Christmas break, I... Somehow they had found out... They weren't... thrilled... to learn they had a homosexual heir and... they... tried to..." Sirius stopped.

A tear ran down his cheek but ran into James's thumb as he cupped Sirius's face.

"They tried to make you not homosexual?" James asked, bringing the tip of his nose into contact with Sirius's. Sirius nodded shakily. Their breaths were hot and heavy, and James kept eye contact with Sirius as he stroked his face reassuringly.

Belatedly, Sirius realized that they were in an extremely hidden spot, where no one would run across them. Surely there was a heterosexual explanation for the way his body felt with James mere millimeters away from him, gazing at him with those big brown eyes. There must be. He did not want to relive his Christmas break from second year.

"James," he breathed, not wanting to disrupt the tranquility, and yet unable to stop himself. "What would you say if I asked to kiss you?"

James smiled, then pulled Sirius towards him and kissed him.

Kissing James wasn't like kissing Peter, when they were 12 and sneaking mere seconds alone, daring to give each other mere pecks. Kissing James wasn't like Marlene, when both of them wanted to be kissing someone else, someone they weren't supposed to want to kiss. Kissing James was still different than getting kissed by Lily, taken by surprise in a hallway.

Kissing James was like flying. Kissing James meant abandoning his life, abandoning his worries, his fears, his scars. Kissing James was being free, was heaven, was utopia.

James took his time, moving the hand that had been lying at his side to find Sirius's hand, stroking his cheek gently with his thumb, still resting on his face. James's lips were soft, and he wasn't forcing his tongue into Sirius's mouth like Marlene used to do, like he had thought was necessary to enjoy himself. James's glasses were a cool touch on his cheeks, his leg wrapped over Sirius's, everything was James, James was everything.

Sirius broke the kiss to breathe, and took the opportunity to open his eyes again, although he didn't remember closing them. James was also breathless, his pupils dilated, his glasses further down his nose than they usually fell, his smile a cracked grin of surprise, sweetness and love. Sirius kissed him again, pressing their bodies closer together, letting James pull him into a hug, letting James pull him onto his chest, being held by James as they kissed.

As they broke apart for air again, Sirius said onto James's lips, "I love you." James pressed his lips to Sirius's briefly before giving Sirius his heart-melting smile and replying "I love you too."

They lost track of time and only stopped when James started shivering. Despite having been living in Britain for 8 years now, his body still hadn't adjusted to the switch between India and Britain, at least temperature wise.

"What are we going to tell Lily?"

"Absolutely nothing. You will be a good boyfriend to her, and if, once the other two are asleep, we... 'hang out', she'll never know."

"But what if- what if she wants me to... have sex with her?" Sirius asked, suddenly worried.

"Then you will see if you are comfortable with that, and if you aren't, you will tell her that. And if you are, you will tell her that too," James replied calmly.

"... and what if with her I'm not comfortable but with... you... I was?"

James blushed.

"Well, then we would practice our silencing charms and lose sleep."

"Would you be comfortable with that?" Sirius asked, suddenly worried he'd gone too far.

"Well, as you know, I've never been with a guy like that before-"

"Neither have I," Sirius mumbled.

"Or a girl for that matter," James added as an afterthought. "But I would like to at least try with you."

"But... are you... homosexual as well?" Sirius asked.

James thought about the question.

"I think I'm both homosexual and... not homosexual."

Sirius noted with mild amusement how James was avoiding the word 'normal' for, well, normal people. After all, his family had made it abundantly clear that he was abnormal. In fact, he had a scar on his leg that said that.

[DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT THINK GAY PEOPLE ARE ABNORMAL SIRIUS IS JUST TRAUMATIZED AND HAS INTERNAL HOMOPHOBIA]

Oblivious to Sirius's amusement, James continued, "Because I am just as attracted to you as I... was to Lily."

Most anyone else would have completely missed the infinitesimal pause before the word 'was', but Sirius was not 'most anyone'.

"You can say you're still attracted to her," he reassured James gently. "You've always seemed like you have too much love for one person.

James didn't answer, clearly not wanting to lie but also unwilling to admit to Sirius that he wasn't the sole object of his affection.

Sirius smiled. "Hey, since I'm dating her, she'll spend more time with us, and someday you can tell your kids that you comforted her after her boyfriend was... idk, an absolute homosexual? And if you'll still want to sneak out of the family home and end up in my bed, I'll welcome you with open arms." He paused, and added, "and legs, too, if I'm lucky."

James burst out laughing., which somewhat quieted the voices in Sirius's head that were adding, 'If I'm still alive to see your kids.'

Later, while lying in bed listening to his friends' sleeping breaths, Sirius thought of what his perfect future would be like.

He still had feelings for Peter, even 4 years later, but he also had new- and at times inappropriate- thoughts about James.

James clearly still had a crush on Lily, but also for some reason he had a crush on Sirius.

Lily was really nice, and Sirius felt sure that she was the final proof of his homosexuality: if he was normal, he'd be attracted to her.

So his perfect life would be very messy and unconventional, and yet he can picture it perfectly.

He is kissing his boyfriend goodbye as Peter leaves for work, then he stops by Lily and James's next door house to pick up their children, who he will drop off at school if they're old enough, and he'll babysit the younger ones. Lily and James will get back from work at the same time, and the children will go back home with Lily, although they'll consider his house home as well, and James will stay with Sirius and they'll make out- or more- until Peter comes home and then one of the adults will cook and Remus will drop by after his workday and if they're not busy, Dorcas and Marlene might stop by as well, as well as Lily's other friends, and Sirius's loves will all be together, with him, happy, content, carefree.

A spine breaks into his reverie.

Regulus.

He takes up his dreaming again.

A doorbell dings while Sirius loves is eating dinner. He'll go open the door, he'll be closest, he'll insist, or Lily dear, you've been on your feet all day, let me go get it. He'll open the door to his brother. 'Regulus?' he'll say. The brothers will look at each other. 'Sirius,' Regulus will reply. 'I thought you weren't coming, come in, we were getting worried, Harry- James would definitely name a child Harry- Harry insisted on putting Mr. Snuffles on your chair to keep it warm.

Sirius fell asleep with a smile on his face.

TL: 5th year, April/May-ish: Lily kisses Sirius

April/May-ish: A few days later, Sirius kisses James

~~*~~

"And then when he gets kicked out (i am 100% messing with the timeline) and goes to live with james, sirius is too broken to be with someone as cheery and with such a loving family and easy life bc as much as james wants to help he just doesn't understand the struggles siri faces"

"And then once he's broken up with lily and james he tentatively starts a relationship with remus but at a really slow pace (jily get together too) "

He gets kicked out about two months after he starts seeing James.

He is far too broken to be cheered up by James's kisses, too broken to be cheered up by Effie inviting Remus and Peter over too, although he appreciates the initiative.

Peter and James try to talk to him, try to get him to do things. Remus gets them to leave him alone.

Remus alone understands the feeling of being broken, although he doesn't remember the feeling of finding out he's broken, he was far too young when he got bitten.

James writes a letter to Lily for Sirius, after getting his approval he retreats to his room, followed by Peter. Sirius wishes he could make James stop feeling helpless, it isn't his fault. But James can only imagine what Sirius is going through, and imagination can only go so far. Even Peter understands better, he's decided he will remain celibate forever or something. Sirius hears whispers of 'bisexual', 'aromantic', 'asexual', 'transgender' between Peter and Remus (James is bi too but he's leaving them alone). He doesn't try to understand.

Sirius is only comforted by Remus's steady presence, whether he's reading a book, or writing stories he burns, or softly strumming his guitar, or simply existing with Sirius, not talking, but so much understanding flowing between them.

Two broken people, agreeing to exist together, deciding to brave the world that doesn't want them.

The only times Sirius goes out are the full moons.

He's started turning into a dog more often. As a dog, life is simpler. His canine brain lets him focus more on the love he's surrounded by, the love directed at him, the love he starts reciprocating.

The first wag of his tail surprised him.

It was an ordinary evening, Fleamont and Peter were playing chess, Euphemia and Remus were discussing gender roles- last he had tuned in- and James was absentmindedly petting the canine Sirius as he read him a story, dog paws not being the best at turning pages. Remus had glanced over at him over at him when he heard the soft thumping of the tail, the only one to do so, all the others were too scared to scare Sirius. Remus hadn't been scared, Remus had smiled. And in that smile, Sirius saw his new future: not the next day, or even the next years but someday, by taking life one day at a time, he would be alright. He had amazing friends who would be at his side, and maybe one day he could learn to open his broken heart up to someone else, someone new.

Someone who also had a broken heart.

His eyes met Remus's. Had he been human, he would have smiled.

The two canines, too broken for humans.

Yes, he would be quite alright.

~~*~~

Bonus (tw canon lol) [for A---k, that's a link, go check it out]

~~*~~

And now the serious goes away lol

"anyways feel free to ask questions about any of these things bc the only way i'll remember to write all this stuff is if someone else is in"

I did mean to write interested not just in, idk what happened there lol

... i did mean soft LMAO

@discoveredreality @gendergay-anthony ... i might've written more stuff oops

@lienspien i might've written stuff

(Also A---k since you still don't know how tumblr works, feel free to comment as much as you want, the only person getting notified will be me)

TL,DR

↓

Timeline: New Year's, their second year (i can't be bothered to figure out what year everything is lol): Sirius tells Peter that he thinks he might be a homosexual and that he kinda has a crush on Peter

End of year: Remus has gone to see Madam Pomfrey and James is in the common room with... other people talking about... stuff Peter and Sirius are in their dorm, Peter is packing, Sirius is reading something. Remus has just walked out the door, and Sirius asks Peter if he would prefer him to leave, as since New Year's, Peter has been avoiding Sirius. Peter replies that it's fine and long story short Sirius and Peter have their first kiss.

Summer: They send each other letters with invisible ink or something idk yet

Third year, return from Christmas holidays: Sirius ends things with Peter, without much explanation, and he refuses to talk about what happened at his "home". (implied conversion therapy by his "family")

Third year, May (approx): Sirius starts dating Marlene. Both soon realize they'd rather be dating someone of the same gender but internalized homophobia + keeping up appearances means that they keep dating till... idk, March of the following year?

March (?) of 4th year: Marlene and Sirius agree to break up momentarily so that Marlene can ask Dorcas out, and they'll get back together if Dorcas rejects Marlene.

Dorcas does not bc she's just as gay as Marlene.

Sirius is now single again.

5th year, April/May-ish: Lily kisses Sirius

April/May-ish: A few days later, Sirius kisses James

5/6th year summer: June/July-ish: Sirius gets disowned and is no longer in any relationships

Past that, Wolfstar begin their slow relationship

↑

TL,DR

[the-lark-ascending69]

Scoops Ahoy Ronance AU?

Ooh I like this 👀

First off I want to say that one of the things that attracted me to ronance when I first watched s4 was the fact that Nancy seemed to be so annoyed with her, lmao. Idk what is it about it but I love it when they can't stand each other at first. That's why I feel like a good ronance story begins with Nancy wanting Robin to stfu.

Now, unlike Steve, who was mildly annoyed but didn't pay her much attention at Scoops Ahoy, I think Nancy would be fuming whenever Robin tried to pull any snarky shit with her. I don't think she'd outright make a board to count how much Nancy sucks like she did Steve, firstly because Nancy doesn't have the same cringe material that Steve does, and secondly, I don't think Robin would act like that with a girl. I just think she's nicer to girls. Still, she's still in her S3 mode, porcupine energy, pretends to not care and be above it all while still pretty much not liking her coworker.

I think she'd find it bitterly funny and really unfair that Nancy doesn't seem to know they even went to the same school. Excuse her, she was Barb's friend first, Wheeler. Show some respect. But she doesn't see the point in telling her because she doesn't care about it, anyway. She just has this aloof, standoffish attitude with Nancy all the time. Rather than making fun of her, she's ignoring her, or telling her to stop bothering her, she's trying to read.

The truth is that Nancy is insufferable here. She feels it's undignified for her to be working at Scoops Fucking Ahoy for the summer, but she still tries to make everything the way it's supposed to because she's already going through the shame of working at Scoops, she's not going to humilliate herself by doing it poorly, too. Plus, she genuinely wants to be nice to clients, until they stop being nice to her. Still she keeps a tight smile whenever they come make her life a living hell, something her coworker can't seem to pull herself to do. It's as if Robin didn't care that people could tell she was tired or annoyed, and she's seen her fight with Erica more times than she deems appropriate. She doesn't appreciate Robin hissing like a cat at a 10 year old girl.

Nancy is just... confused as to how she even got to this point and who did she anger to get paired up with Robin Fucking Buckley. Yes, she's trying to make some money, but truly, how could this have been the only place that called her?

So she's always giving Robin a hard time, scolding her for not smiling enough and condecendingly showing her how it's done (which only earns her the most dead of stares from Robin), or telling her to just go to the back of the store to keep playing with her language tapes if she's not going to do things correctly. Robin just rolls her eyes at that.

She doesn't mock her as much as she does Steve, but when she does, it's her way of challenging her in her flaws, it's constructive even if neither of them realize. Nancy will ramble about how Robin clearly doesn't care about their job and she's sorry if she doesn't need it as much as Nancy does, but she won't let her become an obstacle, to which Robin responds by raising her eyebrows, throwing her head back and saying "wow, Wheeler, that was so inspiring. I mean, I knew the Wheelers were dirt poor but I didn't think it was that bad. Hey, look, we have that in common!" Nancy doesn't like being undignified, but Robin isn't afraid of shaking her a little - mostly making sarcastic comments whenever Nancy does something she wouldn't expect Nancy Wheeler to do, in a way that is unfair because it shows how little she knows her and how many ugly things she assumes about her. That's another thing that drives Nancy mad too, because she's still so full of pain and fear and anger, and now this weirdo is poking fun at the fact she owns guns (plural) as if it were some kind of punchline and not another piece in her trauma puzzle.

I think they surprise each other by how well they work together while cracking the code once Nancy stops scolding Robin for running through the mall and standing on a table, spinning around while talking to herself. She's shocked by the fact she speaks four languages, and even more shocked when she cracked the code when Nancy couldn't. That's when she stops seeing Robin as an apathetic weirdo who's made it her life mission to annoy her, and starts seeing her as an incredibly intelligent young woman whose brain works in mysterious ways. Nancy almost wants to take her brain out of her head and study it, because it's as if she were hanging upside down, looking at things backwards and reading secret patterns no one else can see. It actually inspires Nancy to try to solve problems the way Robin does. It surprises Robin to no end when Nancy is suddenly taking her seriously and asking for her opinion. She's so shocked she doesn't even make sarcastic comments about it.

I think Robin starts seeing Nancy differently as she starts to open up, slowly. She tells her the essential only at first - different dimensions, girl with powers, monster hunting, demonic possesions, now apparently russian spies as well. Whenever Robin asks how she even got involved in all of this, Nancy gives an obviosuly incomplete explanation about helping a friend find his brother (Robin sees through it immediately - why go so far for someone she didn't even know? It'd make a little bit more sense if she did it to help her own brother, but that's not what she said, so she's obviosly hiding something). Robin is still shocked that Nancy Wheeler owns guns. She's even more shocked when she gives one to her, as if she knew what to do with it, and even more when they get intercepted and Nancy fucking shoots and kills one of those guys. Robin did not expect her summer to go like this. It must be some weird kind of dream.

It happens slowly. Robin shows more of her charming nature without quite opening up. She manages to trick an agent by speaking a little bit of russian, she manipulates one of their torturers so they won't hurt Nancy, she bravely talks back despite Nancy begging her to keep her mouth shut and somehow it works. Somehow these people are convinced, somehow, that it's more convenient for them to keep them alive and with all their bones intact. It's like Nancy has been thrown into a whole new reality, in which making yourself small and try to politely convince people to listen to you isn't compulsory, in which you can be defiant and cunning and determined and win. Make them listen to you. Even if the victory is small, it's still a victory. Thanks to Robin, she gets to keep all her nails. Maybe talking so much wasn't a flaw after all.

She opens up slowly - about Barb, and her guns, and the violence she's seen and all the pain inside her heart, and Robin feels so stupid for thinking she was a priss. Nancy is profoundly touched by grief and loneliness. She lost a part of her heart at 15 she's never getting back.

But Robin doesn't open up back. She apologizes for being mean and reassures her that they'll both see Barb soon, and she won't be alone when that happens. All she says about herself is that she feels, you know, like she ruins everything. Nancy doesn't understand, but what Robin means to say is that she has only thought about Tammy Thompson once since this all started, and it was to say to herself, I don't even care if I never see her again, if I get to die next to Nancy Wheeler. And she feels like that is even more forbidden, somehow.

They're drugged. They talk. They're rescued and they get sick and they vomit most if the drugs. Most of it. And they ask each other things. Nancy asks why so many languages, and Robin tells her about Operation Croissant, thinking Nancy will make fun of her, but it seems she just finds it cute. She asks Nancy about Jonathan. She tells her she doesn't think their relationship has any salvation, after she made them lose their previous job. That's stupid, says Robin. Weren't you right after all? Your boss is a piece of shit, by the way.

I dragged him with me. He shouldn't have lost his job because of me.

Fuck that. I'd say it's on your boss. Didn't that guy send you to solve the mystery of the missing mustard?

My boss? Yeah, something like that.

Nancy asks her then if she's ever had any boyfriend. She can't imagine anyone being unable to fall utterly in love with Robin once they get to know her. She expresses this sentiment to her, and Robin gets somber all of a sudden. You don't actually know me, Wheeler, she says.

I like to think I know enough to mean what I say, Nancy replies.

Well, you're wrong. People just... don't know me. No one does. I don't know if you've realized, but I don't have any friends. I'm not the kind of person who's known by other people. Or has friends.

It breaks Nancy's heart a little to hear that.

Robin, do you think we could be... friends? She asks. She normally wouldn't say something like that so directly, but she's still under the influence of drugs, and she really wanted to be Robin's friend.

But Robin feels like becoming friends with Nancy while knowing of these newly developed feelings is a crime. It is if Nancy doesn't know the truth.

There's something you need to know before we're friends.

What is it?

You're not gonna like it, and you're not going to want to be my friend after you hear it.

Robin, you can tell me.

Do you remember Tammy Thompson?

And so she tells her. She tells her almost everything: that she's always felt out of place, always a stranger, always an outsider, always unable to keep friendships and always feeling something she shouldn't. Worrying about what people were gonna say, what they were gonna think, if they were going to hate her, if she was simply too much and had something fundamentally wrong in her that made her unloveable. She dumps all of this on Nancy, expecting her to be annoyed or disgusted, or to simply realize she didn't actually like Robin all that much, in the end.

But Nancy just takes her hand says, Robin, listen to me. That is not true. Any girl would be lucky to have you.

And in that moment, it feels like she's breathing in for the first time in her life. Like there's a small puzzle piece being sloted into a hole in her heart that she'd forgotten was there. She feels her nose itch, and her eyes water a little bit.

Can we be friends, then? Nancy shyly asks, like a kid at the playground. Robin laughs weatly and nods.

Uh... yeah. Yes. I'd love to be friends, actually.

Nancy smiles, and to her surprise, she raises on her knees and hugs her. It's been a long time Robin has received a hug from anyone other than her parents, and she's never felt this happy.

[thecluelessdoctor]

whike I mentally prepare myself to make a whole damn comic, it's time I talk about the FNAf movie because fuck you I am going to write what I want

cw: spoilers for the FNAF movie!!

At base value, I loved it. I felt the pacing was a little slow, but I love it. From the little refs to the games, to the in general plot, it was just very enjoyable, even if most of the plot is just from the fact Vanessa didn't tell Mike wtf was going on.

NOW! let's talk technical!

For a pg-13, it was pretty good! I feel it matches the games really well! It's not too scary, but it can give you a startle, especially to any newbie! My mom was startled by the balloon boy lmao. Also it had blood so it's a plus.

The acting, dialogue, and overall set is really good. Scrumptious if I do say so myself.

I loved how the animatronics looked. Freddy and chica being my overall favorites. Idk they made my boy Bonnie blue so I had to take a few points. The cupcake running around was weirdly funny to me lol.

Now lemme touch on the plot!

I liked the plot! Like I said before, it was a LITTLE slow, but nothing too bad. I found it really interesting with what they did with Micheal and the whole dream thing.

And the idea that the children communicate in pictures rather than words hit me pretty hard, because that how I myself communicate. Although I can be.. pretty good with my words, drawing, and art as a whole is relatable to me, making Abby a really relatable character to me.

I really don't understand the hate for the movies bc it's not lore accurate. So what??? A lot of movies based on games don't! I mean- look at the Sonic the hedgehog movie!! Or the Mario movie! So your point is invalid. And also- I'm pretty sure this is a lot more entertaining than watching Micheal do five nights at Freddy's smhhh.

Though I'm sitting here in complete wonder bc like- WHO WAS THE 5TH KID?! WE SEE HER IN THE PICTURES!!! BUT- IS IT CASSIE?? OR CHARLIE MAYBE?! IDK

Also what happened to Derek I need to know.

Did he get turned into a animatronic what the fuck happened to him

Anyway

Let's talk about the cons of the movie.

I keep bringing this up, but the movie was slow. Not unbearably slow, but still slow.

Also, the whole aunt subplot- idk I felt it wasn't really needed except for the mat pat scene (he fucking embraced that scene it was great the theater I was in started cheering and I had to explain to my mom why everyone was so happy)

Also I felt the one major jumpscare we get, of foxy, was waisted. It looked like he was rolling into the security guard on roller blades. I would have liked it if maybe foxy like jumped at the guard or something. Idk just a me thing

I also feel the 'i always come back' line was rushed, same with shaggy's- sorry I mean WILLIAM'S death. It didn't really feel satisfying ig?

also, I felt that Vanessa was more of a plot device than a character. Because most of the plot literally is riding on the fact she doesn't tell Mike the truth.

But anyway

What would I rate this movie, and should you watch it?

I give it a 8/10. It's fun, and nostalgic for old FNaF fans, and a fun intro to new ones. Go check it out

[pastelpousay]

That anon was a total moron. They call themselves normal when they’re literally a tumblr user lmao. Like we tumblr ushers are not normal that’s why we’re on tumblr 😂

Like I’m anti-proship and all that’s stuff too and I genuinely don’t see anything wrong with your self ship with Hades! There’s nothing controversial about Rina and Hades! I mean Rina is 25 so…idk what they were talking about fr. I self shipped with older dudes when I was 15 too (of course I did the same thing you do by making the ocs legal lmao) 😂 I think we’ve ALL been guilty of that I mean look at those “I was sold to One Direction” fics on Wattpad back in like 2014 😂 Legit I self ship with dudes old enough to be my grandad like c’mon dude! Nearly half of tumblr ships themselves with old men lmao its what we’re all about 🤣

As long as the character isn’t a p*do or doing in*est stuff or horribly illegal stuff or stuff like that then you go for it! Hades literally a Disney villain like the most controversial thing he’s done is try to kill baby Herc lmao and he didn’t even succeed in that lmao, that god is just a big ol hotheaded dork lmao! Idk if that anon was an adult or not, but they should be ashamed if they were. The older self ship community should be looking out for the younger ones too! I think Rina and Hades are adorable! Keep up the awesome art and writing!!! I’m glad you didn’t let that anon get to you! Good job standing up for yourself! ☺️💕 (and sorry if this came off as weird! 😅😅 I wasn’t trying to be! I was just saying I did the same thing when I was a teen so I know how it is lol)

HIHI ANA!! DW YOU DIDNT COME OFF AS WEIRD AT ALL WHAT YOU SAID WAS VERY SWEET AND SO SO TRUTHFUL!!!💗

ALSO YES LITERALLY THE WORST THING HE DID WAS TRY AND KILL HIS NEPHEW LIKE WHAT AND IM ACTUALLY BAFFLED THEY HAD THE AUDACITY TO CALL HIM A “problematic character” 💀 LITERALLY WHAT CHAT?!? I HAD TO SIT THERE FOR A GOOD 5 MINUTES ACTUALLY PROCESSING THAT THROUGH WITHOUT LAUGHING MY ASS OFF 💀 NGL I THOUGHT IT WAS A PRANK AT FIRST. ALSO LITERALLY YES WHY ARE YOU GROUPING YOURSELF AS NORMAL YOUR ON TUMBLR FIRST OF ALL SECOND IM ASSUMING THEYRE A SELF SHIPPER CUZ HOW ELSE WOULD THEY FIND MY ACC 😭 SO LIKE DUDE THATS BASICALLY A DOUBLE NEGATIVE TO BEING NORMAL MY GUY💀😭. I LITERALLY DONT KNOW WHY THEY HAD THE AUDACITY TO COME HERE WITH THIS “ur a proshipper 😿” BULLSHIT LIKE DUDE I LITERALLY MADE SURE RINAS BRAIN WAS FULLY DEVELOPED BEFORE I EVEN MADE LORE 💀😭 like yea it’s an age gap but like she’s literally a human and Hades is a whole ass god LIKE WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO😭 but ohhh when someone else ships themselves with Dracula it’s not a problem 💀. I WAS LOWK HOPING IT WOULD JUST BE ME THO THEY SENT THIS TOO CUZ IM A BIT CONCERNED LIKE WHAT IF THEYRE SPREADING HATE TO OTHER HADES SELF SHIPPERS OR LIKE OTHER SELF SHIPPERS IN GENERAL. I was honestly contemplating on deleting it but I’m too petty for that lmaoao ALSO THANK YOU SMM ILL BE SURE TO KEEP UP WITH ALL MY STUFF AND I WILL CONTINUE TO DRAW THEM SMOOCHING JUST TO PISS PPL LIKE THIS OFF 💪😼 It gives me life.

THANK YOU AGAIN ANA THIS WAS SO SWEET 💗 I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAYYY, NIGHT WHATEVER TIME IT IS IDK BUT YEA!! If this person comes in ur inbox dw 💪🐺 I’ll take care of them /j

[thebigoblin]

Everything

I'm supposed to be studying for my exams, instead I wrote this. I had to do 2 chapters! (short ones, would barely take me an hour, but still!) This might be the first installment of a series. Idk, my muse is unpredictable.

Anyways... here ya go, my fellow sterek lovers <3

PS: won't be putting this on AO3 yet, I'm not opening that again till my last exam is over. Now on AO3 after some minor edits! And wowza i did not realize this thing was more 2k words lmao. I was thinking this a lil ficlet oof.

One should never fuck with a genie, otherwise they fuck with you.

How does Stiles know this? Because he's an idiot. An idiot who rubbed the lamp even after Lydia told him not to, and asked for a wish he really wishes he hadn't. And the worst part of it all?

He's all alone now.

*

He wakes up floating in the air. He screams, because he can see the forest floor below him, and he's definitely gonna fall so he needs to brace himself—

"Where the hell are my legs?!"

"Gone," the genie giggles. She's blue in hue, white jewels around her white eyes, and she has her teal long hair in knots the same way Stiles' stomach is now. Stiles gulps. She laughs. "You wished for this, Stiles."

And with that, she's gone.

Stiles doesn't fall, but he wishes he had. Especially when he sees his dad trudging through the forest with K9 dogs, unaware of his existence even though he shouts, cries, and yearns.

His dad looks up, but never at him. He tries to touch his dad, make him aware of his existence, but all his dad does is look terrified of something Stiles doesn't know of and unaware of Stiles' mere existence.

Finally, his dad leaves, muttering, "Stupid teenagers and stupid games."

Stiles follows, because that's the only thing he can do right now.

*

Turns out, this isn't 2013, and this isn't post senior year. He's in 2011, and this is the morning after Stiles and Scott had found Laura's body and Scott had gotten bitten. Except, in this freaky world, Stiles doesn't exist.

Why would Scott even go to the forest at night if Stiles didn't force him? Scott's said it himself, that if it wasn't for him Scott never would have had to endure the life he has. He could have been normal. If only Stiles wasn't there.

And in this world, Stiles wasn't.

He gets the answer the same time Melissa gets it, her mascara smudged, wedding ring on her finger, matching his dad's, both of them sitting on the couch of Stiles' childhood home.

"We haven't located him yet," his dad is saying, voice tinged with regret and fury. "That kid. What could have been so important that he went to the forest in the middle of the night? And after I told him about the body!"

So Laura is still dead, huh. He wonders why even this world is taking from Derek, but that's forgotten when Melissa says this —

"Did you ask Jackson? He knows everything that Scott does. He must know where our son is!"

Jackson and Scott are friends in this world? What even? Stiles had always believed that he was the only thing keep Scott from being cool and popular, and now he knows this to be true. If Stiles never existed, then Scott would have had a much better childhood. And much cooler people to hand out with.

"I did. He says Scott was terrified of the killer and had wanted Jackson to come over for a sleepover, but Lydia didn't let him." At least those two are still together. "And that was the last thing Jackson and Scott talked about."

Melissa looks up, staring straight at his dad. "And?"

His dad never beats around the bush. As a cop, it's much better to be blunt than to dance around the truth, and right here, right now, he's a cop delivering a bad news to a woman whose child is missing.

"And Scott had a fight with Lydia over that, apparently, and he went to cool down at his favorite spot in town." His dad pauses, and Stiles' stomach drops out.

"Where, John. Where?"

He says in sync with his dad, "In the preserve." And then in sync with Melissa, "Damn it Scott!"

*

Scott comes home in the evening, unscratched and alive, and it seems like he hasn't been bitten, and Stiles is glad for a moment, but then he sees things. Like Scott scrunching his face on the second floor when the main door opens and shuts, Melissa leaving for work, her worries for her son soothed. Like Scott laughing at seemingly nothing, but then Stiles goes down and sees that his dad's watching a rom-com in the living room. And most damning of all, the next day, Scott does the thing with the pen. He gives it to Allison right as she enters the class, like he heard she forgot hers — even with multiple walls and a good amount of distance between where that conversation happened and where Scott was sitting in the class.

And then Stiles realizes, he never had anything to do with this. It was Scott's destiny to become a werewolf, and it doesn't matter if Stiles is there or not. It's Scott's destiny.

"His destiny was always to become a True Alpha."

He's in his not-bedroom, sitting on Scott's bed, contemplating his original wish. He was upset at the time; Scott had reinforced his belief of Stiles ruining his life, and he'd just found out about the genie lamp Lydia ordered from... somewhere. It was like fate, him wishing to never exist, so that the people in his life could have a better life without him.

He's contemplating whether or not that wish was even warranted, and what are all the implications of him never existing in this world, what else changes, and if it doesn't really; that's when the genie decides to come back, a somber look on her face.

"He wasn't."

She scares the shit out of him, her hand on his knee, comforting but cold. He shrieks, and she gives a little smile, shakes her head. Repeats, "He wasn't meant to be an Alpha."

And Stiles tells her everything.

"Me being there... it doesn't matter. He became a werewolf in this world, because it was destiny." And, "I don't impact the people around me." And, "Nobody would miss me. Nobody. I'm just a nuisance. It's great for them that I don't exist in this world."

The genie looks at him sadly. "No, Stiles," she cups his cheeks, and he lets him, lets her wipe his tears with her thumb. It's comforting, like his mother's voice or her laugh. "That's not true. You matter. You matter in ways you don't even realize."

"Do I, really? Do I?"

"Yes. Scott was never meant to be a True Alpha, but you know who is? This person." She snaps her fingers, and they're in the charred remains of the Hale House suddenly, sitting on its burnt floor. Stiles' heartbeat quickens, and he sees him then — sad, angry, and terrified, all at once, all of it in his eyebrows, his face a marble statue carved out of a constant state of paranoia.

"Derek."

"Derek Hale," the genie agrees.

"He was...? But he gave up his powers. To save Cora. And then—"

"And then Derek's power weakened. It didn't vanish. For any other Alpha, the spark would have been depleted completely, but not for Derek."

"Not for Derek?"

"Not for the greatest Alpha to walk this land since the very first Alpha that ever existed." Stiles is too stunned to speak. All he can do is look at the Derek sitting in the corner of the destroyed living room, gripping a folded photo in his hands, looking so young yet so old. Wracked with guilt and pain, so much pain.

The genie continues.

"He is Destiny's Child. The Seed of Power, The Bloom of Prosperity. He is The Phoenix, risen from flames of blood and death and betrayal. He is the True Alpha, and for him, the power would have come back."

"Then why didn't it?" His head is spinning with all the titles, his mind hysterical over them. But he's sitting with a genie in a world that isn't his own, his legs turned to a single tail like a mermaid floating in air, and he believes now.

"Because where there is light, there is darkness. Deaton used nefarious ways to steal that Alpha Spark from Derek, and with Julia's sacrifices, the Nemeton was a powerful conduit for his malpractices of magic."

"And he gave that to Scott. But why?"

"Stiles... Derek is Power. And you? You are Knowledge. You know why."

"Seed of Knowledge... He's the brawns and I'm the brains? Geez, you make it sound like we're the two sides of the same coin." The genie just looks at him, her white eyes sparkling. He decides to not focus on that, instead thinking of an answer to his own question. And then he gets it. "Having power is great... but controlling it is even better."

"One makes you accountable, the other makes you the master."

Stiles has to admit, "Deaton is smart. Shit, does this mean Scott was manipulated all this time?"

"Perhaps. But right now, I want you to focus on this: What is your destiny? You said it youself, you're the two sides to the same coin. You, my child, were correct."

"Like I always am?"

"Like you always are," she agrees, and then they're shuffling through scenes of Stiles' life like it's a goddamn movie.

Every scene is Stiles saving Derek. Or being there for Derek. Being Pack.

When Stiles spent nearly a whole day with a dying Derek in his Jeep, and almost chopped off his arm save him.

When he let Derek lay low in his own room.

The pool.

After Boyd's death.

The time he spent the whole day at Derek's loft, deliberate and silent, a shoulder to lean on, the day of the fire's anniversary.

And on and on and on.

"That's you two, existing, side by side. Now look at this."

She shows him this world's Derek. His fate.

Derek dies by Kate's bullet, untrusting of Scott to go ask for help, and too stubborn to not haul ass into the Argent's mansion to go look for the bullet himself. Unfortunately for him, Grandpa Crazy was there, too, enjoying his meal. And then later...

"I don't- I can't- Not him, please, He can't die, I—"

They're back in his not-bedroom.

"Why would you show me that?! Why the hell would you—"

"Because you matter. Humans interact every day, and maybe sometimes those interactions mean nothing. But you and him? Each one of your interactions does mean something. Your Destiny is intertwined. You are the brain to his brawns, the brawns to his brains. You're strengths of each other in a way that Ares himself envies, that Apollo sings of, that Eros prides himself on."

"What are you saying?" This is getting too much for him, now. It's one thing to be there for each other, for him to mean something in someone's life, in Derek's life... but this? Too much.

The genie smiles, teeth and all. She has vampiric teeth, except all her teeth are long-fanged. "You are each other's."

Stiles pauses. Thinks through everything that has happened between him and Derek. They're friends. Derek is a beta and he's still the annoying human, and they're always circling each other, joking and ribbing and fighting and slamming each other into surfaces. Well, the last part Derek does to him.

They're close.

They're not in love.

"Not yet,"

"Don't tell me you can fucking mind-read." He only gets a smile in return, the full-fanged one. "Okay... moving on. What do you mean not yet? And you didn't actually complete your sentence. We are each other's what?"

"You are each other's everything." The words echo all around him, inside his skin, in his bones. They hold a weight, bearing down on his chest, arms around his body, like a tight, vicious grip, and the genie repeats, "Everything."

And that's the last thing he hears out of the genie before waking up on the preserve floor, Derek staring down at him, his eyes flashing red.

Stiles blinks up at him.

"Stiles, what did you do?"

He gulps.

"Technically, I didn't do anything,"

"Stiles!"

[timetoeatthebread-blog]

Wow that's actually putting a lot of thought into it, that was actually such a cool way of looking at it and I do agree that the SB skin line is basically myths with stand in figures of the characters but about the seeing a clone of himself or getting possessed it technically couldn't be possible since FOR NOW that the major lore update isn't here yet, the skin lines are still like AUs basically

Idk i just know I'd absolutely devour whatever it is you write lmao, slow burns are so satisfying but stand alone one shots are pretty good to give yourself a break and enjoy a more direct romance again write whatever you enjoy since sometimes writers forget to count themselves as readers

Idk idk reading how you think just made me squeal like a little girl, I love the lore and seeing people actually interested in it is so KAAJLNDAL yk?

Thats so sweet, thank you! Waited with chapter 5 just to send it (Almost) directly to you ;)

Anyways here's the chapter!

Aphelios x Reader - Dreaming of You (Part 5)

Truth be told, you didn’t get to ask any questions that day. Or the day after that.  

Right now, you were on your third night of travels, as you and Aphelios continued on with your way towards Weh’le. Admittedly, you were only one third of the way, so you still had a long way before reaching your destination.  

The night was still young. With the cloudless sky, the moon shone brightly as you and Aphelios walked along the river.  

The River of Navori. It was, in reality, multiple branches of water that eventually all connected and created one, big branch.  

As the luck might have it, you were able to spend the night at an inn close to the Placidium of Navori, where you were able to rest your legs and finally take a bath. You were even able to eat a normal meal while at the inn! And now, you were walking along the river, feeling refreshed because of the rest beforehand.  

The area was slowly becoming more unfamiliar. It was different from the green, lush views before you that you were already used to. 

Currently, the scene was taking shape of a more mountainous area. The mountains were still a good while away. But that didn’t stop the slopes of land appearing before you. Steep terrain was becoming a challenging hike for you. Still, not so challenging for Aphelios. Curse him and his long legs. Again. 

The man was walking like it wasn’t the most intense walk you’ve had in the past few days. At the current trail, the ascend was the most tiring you experienced so far.  

You were already worried about the more grueling hikes you’ll have to take soon. With a deep breath, you collected as much vigor as possible to follow Aphelios’ lead.  

Nothing much happened after your adventures during your first night at the unfamiliar place. Your hand was long healed. And no other problems appeared. 

Meanwhile, Aphelios’ didn’t experience any more mishaps with the noctum poison. He was still regularly taking the distilled concoction. But he didn’t have the same reaction as he did the first time. Instead, Aphelios would only cough a few times. Secondly, he would experience some level of dizziness.  Lastly, he also would experience some kind of paralyzing effect. Luckily all of the symptoms went away almost as fast as they came, disappearing after a few minutes.  

Each time he drank the poison, Alune would appear close to him. You would greet her warmly. When you asked her how her day went, you were sure to tell her about what you experienced so far. In as many details as possible.  

It seemed to make her quite happy. Being the curious girl she was, she had no problem picking up on the little words and asking about them, hoping to gain even more details of living in Ionia, or the terrain surrounding it.  

When she saw the Shuang Yue blades at your side, she was mesmerized. She couldn’t stop admiring the blades, which had delicate signs of the Lunari on them. The handles of the blades were made out of wood that was similar to rosewood. To the delicate wood were attached two crescent blades each. They almost reminded you of knuckle dusters. The metal was made out of moonsilver and moonstone, blended perfectly together.  

Alune was obviously knowledgeable on them. Not necessarily on how to use them. But she seemed to think it was a gift from Mother Moon. Given specially to you to help you on the journey.  

She also helped to explain that the flowers you saw that day in the cave were noctum flowers. No wonder they hurt like a bitch when you touched them. The Seer went into great detail as she explained how they came to be and how they only bloom during the night.  

At some point you had to stop her from talking, albeit gently. The main reason was that you saw the same mist as you did during your first day. You called out to Aphelios, catching his attention. He turned his head and glanced at you, waiting for you to continue.  

“I see the mist. Do you see it too?” 

He looked in the direction you motioned with your hand. Then he looked back at you and shook his head. A silent ‘no’ was your answer, it seems. All you did was notion for him to follow your lead. You were the one walking in the front and leading the way now. 

Nearby, behind the big hill, was a small shack. The trees, which were small, twisted and turned in various ways, creating the building before you. With how the Ionians lived, it wasn’t surprising that the trees were very much still alive. It’s no doubt that the woodweaver, who convinced the tree spirits to grow into such a shape, was talented. 

The mist was leading you towards the shack and you silently followed. Aphelios obediently after you. Alune was on your side, silently flying in the air, observant. 

A gentle light was coming out of the opening in the wall. Instead of a door, a material hung loosely where a door would have been. Even in the darkness, soft colors of orange, blue and pink could be seen under the bright moonlight. They were leaves of the trees, creating a living roof on top of the building, accentuating the house’s beauty.  

Aphelios’ first reaction was to retrieve one of his weapons, no hesitation could be found in his movements. His presence was almost suffocating as he nearly loomed over your form as he followed you. Movement was calculated and confident; he straightened out his back and maintained a clear vision on the shack before him. 

And then there was you, the complete opposite of him. Your back was slightly slouched, breathing was uneven, and you looked everywhere and anywhere curiously. Everything about your form screamed relaxed or harmless, compared to Aphelios.  

Hence, it was no surprise that when you wanted to knock on the wooden frame and call out to check if someone was inside, Aphelios stopped you. He grabbed your hand firmly and gently tugged you backwards.  

As your eyes met his, he gave you a shake of his head, a silent plea for you to wait. Feeling like you don’t have much of a choice, you stood quietly, observing his movement and intentions.  

As he left you there to stand on your own, your hand felt strangely cold all of a sudden. 

Aphelios and Alune went around the shack, trying their best to check their surroundings. Admittedly, it was quite easy for Alune to just float around in the air and check, but Aphelios felt the need to make sure. 

He came back shortly after. Aphelios casted a short look on your form, before nodding at you. Giving you a small signal to continue.  

You came up to the entrance and knocked on the wall. A shuffling sound could soon be heard, and you could see a pair of feet peeking through the material before you.  

A wrinkly and elegant hand grabbed the material and pulled it to the side. The woman was standing before you, her silver hair was illuminated in the moonlight and her obsidian eyes stared back at you, curious. You felt suddenly awkward. For some reason you expected something... Different. Definitely not a person.  You put on your best, friendly smile. 

“Hello, are you a Lunari, perhaps?” 

Aphelios’ face was priceless as he stood behind you. He was stunned. His form became instantly stiff as he looked at you, cranking his neck down at your form. Aphelios was fighting against his whole body to restrain his need to lift up his arms in defeat. 

The tan woman hid slightly behind the doorframe as she examined you and Aphelios. Upon seeing Aphelios, however, her demeanor changed completely. She noticed his clothes and the markings on his scarf. The woman stepped out and you could see her whole wardrobe.  

A moon crest necklace hung loosely around her neck, with a purple gemstone in the middle. Her clothes, which consisted of a mix of black and silver, hung loosely. As a finishing touch there was a silver rope with a bell at the end, which held her outfit together securely in place. Her gaze moved from Aphelios to you. 

“That’s... Correct. Is there anything you need?” 

You tried to explain it as briefly as possible, “The Aspect of the Moon needs our help. We need the people. Please come to mount Targon.” 

Obviously, the woman raised her brow at that, not believing you completely.  

How were you supposed to persuade her? The situation was terrible already. And Aphelios can’t help you because he can’t talk right now. One way or another, in the midst of you trying to explain why it was so important, it seemed like she finally understood the weight of the situation.  

It took quite a lot of time to explain the whole history. Starting from Aphelios and Alune, the children of destiny. To the celestial cycles and finally, to the Aspect of the Moon herself, Diana. It was a sign to change the tide of the battle. All in favor of the Lunari.  

The whole situation dawned on her, it seems. All the woman did was nod, only a few words leaving her lips as she spoke, “I understand. I’ll let our brothers and sister know.” 

Elderly woman went inside her little shack. A shuffling sound could be heard as she rummaged around in her small home. Eventually, she came out, a water pouch in her hand. She put it in your hand, her gentle touch grazing your hand. 

“You might need this, child. Take it. May you be safe on your travels.” 

And with that, you and Aphelios started to walk back towards the original road. Throughout the whole time Alune was quiet, but now, with the situation out of the way, she went back to her curious personality. 

“I didn’t expect you to carry so much knowledge, Little Light. Who taught you?” 

It made you freeze a little. Maybe you could talk about it another day? 

After imagining the conversation in your head for the past few days, you were so sure you had your perfect little conversation ready, all the way from point A to point B. But now, with the occasion right in front of you. You suddenly felt like a fish out of water. 

How were you going to explain this? Should you just lie?