#they were nice though i needed to go but i wish not having your teeth rot out of your mouth wasnt so expensive

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Mad Woman"

ok yall im out of school now! this was rushed so don't judge, when i write i just pour out whatever's in my head, that's why it's almost always rushed. i feel like if i don't write it, it'll disappeare! also to everyone hating in my asks, NO ONE IS FORCING YOU TO READ MY WORK!!!! hating does nothing but discourage me and lower my already non-existent confidence in my writing. pls leave me alone, if you don't have anything nice to say; don't say anything. i LOVE all my positive asks and comments, they make my day. don't ruin it for me.

Prologue: hapter 1: Chapter 2: Chapter 3: Chapter 4: Chapter 5 Chapter 6:

Six months, that's how long it's been since Bruce exiled you to New York and left you alone once again. It's been 387 days since Tiffany Maverick pulled the rug from beneath your feet and ensnared your family in her web of lies and manipulation. For six months, your family ignored you, only Alfred sending you the occasional care package which you promptly threw in the garbage.

You wish Tiffany and Damian were as content with ignoring you as the rest of the family but unfortunately, they went out of their way to rub their closeness in your face by sending you pictures of family movie night, family game night, and the family attending their school events. It made you angry at first, before you saw how funny it was. A family of billionaires, a family of detectives, a family of vigilantes, sitting next to a spy; obliviously feeding her insider information. The Batman, sitting grinning ear to ear next to a girl who could be his downfall.

Surprisingly, boarding school was amazing. The boys were hot, though most arrogant and dumb, they were all loaded and into you. The girls idolized you from the moment you walked in, your word was law around here and the power felt amazing. You decided what was in and out, who was hot and who was not; a huge difference and change of pace from the years of bullying and ridicule at Gotham Prep.

The charm came with your new abilities, most likely. Sure, the first two months were fucking painful and exposed you to pain you didn't think was possible but it was a small price to pay. It was nothing for the power of being able to charm and flirt your way out of just about anything, being able to eject venom with the slightest trace of your fresh set of acrylics, being able to literally bite people with your fangs and have them enjoy it, sensing heat signatures and feeling emotions and eyes on you, having the ability to give literal bone-crushing hugs, and so many things you haven't even discovered.

Not to mention your random overnight makeover! Suddenly, your figure was to die for, perfect in all senses of the word. Your skin gleamed and shimmered in the light, long shed away were all the blemishes and scars. Your hair always shiny and your teeth always pearly white, albeit a bit sharp. You're the image of beauty.

Who cares about the price when the product was this good anyway?

Who needed familial love when everyone here worshipped you? That new view and utter hatred for the family is what convinced you to accept Ariele, your boarding school bff and roomie,'s offer to spend summer break with her family in the south of france. Of course, you wanted to go back to manor for a week before meeting her there. Alfred asked you to come and though you were angry at him, you missed the old man. You swore to yourself that you'd only stay the night, catch up with Alfred, and ignore your 'family' then promptly spend the summer half naked, tanning on a super yacht with your girls.

Little did you know that you'd never make it to france, in fact, you wouldn't even make it out the manor now that Tim discovered the truth and told the rest of the family.

Tim Drake noticed things. Small things. Minute details that other people might overlook. That's how he found the truth.

It started with the cooking. Tiffany had casually mentioned one evening that she’d found some old recipes in the manor’s archives, recipes that you had once written down, hoping to impress Damian with Arabic dinners and desserts. Tiffany had barely glanced at the handwritten notes before she had offered to make dinner that night—a perfect replica of your signature stuffed cabbage leaves, Malfoof, as you called it.

Tim had been there when it happened. He’d recognized it immediately. The dish was one of your favorites, one you had made for family dinners. It was too familiar, too precise for Tiffany, it lacked the usual love and effort.

Then came the awards. It was subtle at first, too. Tiffany casually dropping that she had “entered a local baking competition” and how much fun it had been to win. Tim had known that you had been the one to actually win that competition the year before, he remembered rolling his eyes as you foolishly tried to impress him. But when he checked the award Tiffany had won? It looked eerily similar to the one that you had earned. Tiffany didn’t even bother hiding her gloating as she showed it off, calling it “another step toward making Gotham proud.”

Tim’s stomach churned. It wasn’t a coincidence. Tiffany was stealing your life and he was the only one that saw it. Who knows what else she was stealing.

The pieces clicked into place when he found the old photo albums. Tiffany had been snooping around the library one afternoon, pulling out albums that had been tucked away in the back, ones that hadn’t been touched in years. They were full of memories of your achievements, pictures of family vacations, awards won for charity work and academic excellence. Baby photo's, old camera's, journals, even old clothes.It wasn’t just admiration. It was an obsession.

He saw her dig through and read every one of your old entries, saw her stare at pictures and attempt to manuever her body how you stood, but what really creeped him out was when she started tracing over your handwriting.

Tim couldn’t let it go. This was insane. It was almost as if Tiffany wanted to wear your skin.

It wasn’t that he wanted to make Tiffany an enemy or villainize her, quite the opposite actually, he'd been ignoring her strange behavior and smell for a year now because of how fond he was of her. But this? This was crossing a line. She wasn’t just trying to fit in anymore, this was dangerous.

He now suspected there was more to Tiffany than just her obsession with your life and after putting the pieces together, it was becoming clear: Tiffany was playing a much deeper game. She wasn’t just trying to steal your identity, she was stealing information, too.

Tim’s investigative skills had been honed through years of being the tech guy of the Batfamily, and when something felt off, he didn’t ignore it. Not anymore, he started tracking small anomalies—times when Tiffany’s presence seemed too convenient, moments when crucial data about Gotham’s underworld went missing from the Batcomputer, or when confidential mission details were leaked through channels Tim knew the Batfamily didn’t use. Times when the Joker seemed to know the family's course of action and times when villains knew Duke's plans.

That’s when it clicked.

Tiffany wasn’t just trying to fit in with the family. She was spying. Her affections with the family were a cover for something darker. She had been gathering intelligence for a shadowy organization, feeding them vital information about their operations. This was bigger than him—this was a full-blown infiltration. Tiffany was working for someone else, someone dangerous.

Tiffany’s betrayal ran deep, and her spying wasn’t just about information anymore; it was personal. She had been stealing pieces of your life, your successes, your talents , your family. She had slowly taken everything that you had worked for and twisted it into her own false narrative. It was sickening.

Tim couldn’t stand it anymore. He had dug through encrypted files, tracked hidden transmissions, and pieced together cryptic conversations. Tiffany wasn’t just trying to steal your identity for the sake of becoming the perfect family member. No. She was mimicking your cooking and baking skills, down to the awards she had won for those very talents. She had been trying to erase you and replace you with a manufactured version of herself.

It was almost too much for Tim to handle. But there was something even worse lurking beneath the surface: the deeper he dug, the more it became clear that Tiffany wasn’t just feeding information to criminals. She had been feeding off your spirit, your presence and she had nearly replaced you entirely.

Now he just needed to tell the other.

The tension in the Batcave could be cut with a knife as Tim stood before Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, Duke, Cass, Steph, Barbara, and Alfred, ready to show them what he had discovered.

“I’ve been tracking Tiffany’s movements for the last few days,” Tim began, his voice low but sharp. “And I found something that’s... unsettling.”

Bruce, who had been scanning a mission report, looked up with interest. Dick turned to Tim, a puzzled expression on his face. Alfred stepped forward, his usual composed demeanor now replaced with a rare concern. Even Damian looked confused.

“What did you find, Master Tim?” Alfred asked, his tone calm, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes.

Tim didn’t hesitate. He clicked a button on the computer, and the large screen behind him flickered to life. A series of encrypted files appeared—mission logs, surveillance footage, and even intercepted communications. The Batcave was suffocating in its silence as Tim presented the evidence to Bruce, Dick, Jason, Alfred, and the others. His fingers flew over the keyboard, and every new image, every new file, felt like a punch in the gut.

There was a long silence as everyone processed the information. Bruce’s usual stoic expression faltered for a moment, and Dick clenched his fists. The weight of the revelation was hitting hard, but it wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt. It was that someone in their midst had been pulling the strings behind their backs for a year.

The data was damning. It was all there, proof that Tiffany had been copying your recipes, your designs, your machines, even stealing the culinary awards that you had earned over the years. And on top of that, she had been siphoning critical Batfamily intel to an unknown organisation. The information was so sensitive, it could have jeopardized every single one of them.

“Do you see it now?” Tim’s voice was quieter, but his anger was unmistakable. He flicked the last file onto the screen. Tiffany’s false accomplishments, stolen directly from you. The stolen recipes. The mission intel sent out from the Batcomputer under her watch. “All of us have been blind to it.”

“About a month ago,” Tim said, “I found an odd encryption pattern in the Batcomputer—something I’ve never seen before. When I decrypted it, I found a set of mission details. Ones that shouldn’t have left the system. I traced the origin back to Tiffany.”

Alfred's face tightened as he took in the footage on the screen. It was a recording of Tiffany accessing classified Batfamily data, tapping into their most sensitive files.

“She’s been stealing information,” Tim continued, his voice gaining intensity. “Every single time she’s interacted with the Batcomputer, she’s been sending that data out to an unknown address. I can't track where it's coming from, it's too advanced; even for me.

“Impossible,” Bruce muttered, but his eyes were narrowing in disbelief. “Why would she—?”

“Because she’s a spy,” Tim interrupted, “and it gets worse. She’s been feeding them everything. Our weaknesses, our next moves, our schedules. She’s not just a mole in the manor. She’s been working against us this whole time. She's why so many missions have failed.Tim’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not just the family’s accomplishments she’s been stealing. She’s been getting close to each of us, using our trust. She knows things, personal things, and she’s been leaking that information. She’s been feeding it to the highest bidder, giving Gotham’s worst players a playbook for taking us down.”

Dick’s face twisted with disbelief. “She was pretending to be (y/n), taking her accomplishments as her own, but—” He trailed off, his voice faltering. “How could we have let this happen? How did we not notice?”

Jason’s voice cut through the heavy silence, rough and sharp, like a crack of thunder. He stepped forward, fists clenched. “I should’ve known. She’s been playing everyone, pretending like she’s all sweet and innocent, but she was using all of us.” Jason’s eyes flicked to the screen, then back at Tim, his face a mask of fury. “She lied to me. She’s been lying to all of us. And she’s been trying to replace her.” His hand slammed onto the table, and the anger in his voice was unmistakable. “She doesn’t belong here. We trusted her. We all trusted her.” Jason’s anger bubbled over. This betrayal, the way Tiffany had wormed her way into their lives, made him see red

He couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I should’ve known,” Jason spat, pacing in circles, his fists clenched tight at his sides. “I let her get close to me. I let her in, we all did! And now look at this. She’s been pretending to be everything she’s not. She’s been trying to take her place, her rightful place in this family!”

Alfred, who had been silent until now, cleared his throat, his voice filled with quiet but growing fury. “I should have seen it,” he muttered, his gaze darkening. “I was too lenient with her. I allowed her to slip through the cracks, to play at being part of this family. I should have known better.” His usually calm demeanor was cracking, and the regret in his voice was palpable.

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line as the weight of Tim’s words sank in. His eyes hardened as he stared at the screen, disappointment creeping into his features. Tiffany had been their guest, their supposed family, and this whole time, she had been playing them all. You had tried to warn them.

Duke, who had been standing quietly at the back of the room, spoke up. His voice was low but steady.

“I knew something was off,” Duke said, his eyes fixed on the screen. “I couldn’t put my finger on it, but... she’d been acting weird around me. Always asking questions—asking about the family, the missions, everything. I thought I was paranoid.”

Damian had always been fiercely protective of what he considered his, no one could ever doubt that. He mocked you, saw you as his pathetic bastard older sister, he had wanted to hurt you. But now, as the reality of Tiffany’s betrayal settled in, something darker began to take root inside him. He remember your unconditional love for him, how you took everything he said did to you with grace and compassion. He remembered how good you were to him. He noticed that everything he thought he loved about Tiffany was what she stole from you. His eyes burned with rage as he thought about how Tiffany had wormed her way into the family and his heart, how she’d stolen your accomplishments, and how she’d attempted to erase his sibling from the very fabric of their world.

She was trying to replace her. That thought alone made his fists tighten, nails biting into his palms.

It had been a long time since Damian had felt this kind of protective rage. He was the blood of the Wayne family, the one who deserved to be at the center of it all, but you; his blood sibling, his equal, had always been ignored, undervalued ridiculed and neglected. And now Tiffany, a mere interloper, had dared to manipulate and tear him away from you.

Damian watched the family, his gaze flicking to each of them as they tried to process the betrayal. The anger from his family was palpable, but there was something else there too: possessiveness. Protectiveness. regret. They weren’t just angry at Tiffany for what she had done to you, they were furious at themselves for pushing you away and leaving you alone and unprotected in New York.

You were his responsibility, his blood, and no one; not even Tiffany, was going to steal you away from him. He had always wanted to prove his superiority to the others, but now that wasn’t his focus. His attention was fixed solely on bringing you back to him, where you belonged.

Cass, who had been silently observing, nodded. Her face was unreadable, but the tension in her jaw told Tim that she, too, had been sensing something wrong for weeks.

Steph, ever the sharp observer, had her arms crossed over her chest, her usual sarcasm now tempered with a cold seriousness. “I knew she wasn’t perfect, but this? This is next-level crazy. Are you sure bout this Time?” She leaned forward, her voice suddenly harder.

Barbra was too shocked to say anything. This was not how today was supposed to go.

Alfred glanced toward Bruce. “Master Bruce,” he said softly, “the level of infiltration, this is something I never anticipated. We should have seen the signs.”

Bruce’s expression was steely. “We were too distracted, too willing to accept her presence as part of the family. We let our guard down.”

“That’s not just her fault,” Dick interjected. “We’ve all been too trusting. Especially with everything that happened with (y/n).” His voice hardened as he glanced at the screen again, eyes flicking to Tim. “What now? What do we do about it?”

Tim stepped forward, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I’ve already notified our allies. The information she’s passed is enough to give this organization an upper hand in Gotham, maybe beyond. She hasn't revealed our identities but she might soon. we can’t let her get away with it. She’s been playing us this whole time.”

Steph threw her hands up in exasperation. “So what, we just let her go? She’s been lying to us, manipulating us for months! ?”

Tim’s eyes were cold, calculating. “We’ll have to trap her. Use the information she’s already stolen to set her up. Once we confront her, we’ll make sure she doesn’t get away.”

Bruce’s fists were clenched at his sides, his jaw set in stone. He had failed [Y/N]—he had failed his child. The weight of that was too much for him to bear. “This ends now. We’re going to fix this.”

Ok yall since apparently 8 ppl think my work is absoulte shit and and SURE i knew how they felt this is pretty rushed and i feel like it sucks! anyway!! i hope at least some people enjoy <33 send in nice aks and questions and ideas pls. its so fun answering them. yall are mind readers and are so creative!! lmk if there's any typos bc I copy-pasted half of it from my notes app. yeah i did write half of this when i was supposed to be in class, and??? Next chapter Tiffany gets confronted, reader comes home, Batfam start groveling and regretting their actions, sort of on their way to yandere-ism and make reader move back to gotham to be closer to "family"

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Need a hand?

pairing: fuckboy!felix x afab!reader

genre: smut, enemies to ???

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: you need help assembling your new computer and the only available person is the guy you can't stand.

warnings: dom!felix, lots of teasing, protected sex (go figure), spanking, hair pulling, lots of 'good girl', fingering, oral (m), cum swallowing

a/n: enjoy🫶🏻 wrote this in a day, again, felix is my muse💕

~ divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

~ Masterlist

"What's in it for me?" he leans on the wall with that stupid smirk of his and those big stupid sparkly eyes.

Anger is already bubbling up inside you and your hand twitches, the image of you slapping him across the face and wiping that stupid smirk off runs through your mind.

"Can't you just do something out of decency?" you scoff and he chuckles deeply.

"Maybe I'm not decent." he shrugs nonchalantly, flicking his cigarette carelessly on the floor.

"You're littering." you cross your arms on your chest.

"And you're stalling. Do you want it or not?" he leans in closer to your face, his freckles on display for you to count.

Not that you care, of course.

Your nose scrunches up at the smell of cigarettes permeating off of him, mixed with his cologne and something distinct about him.

"Fine." you spit and he laughs, leaning away.

"No." he answers and your jaw drops.

"No?" you blink confusedly.

"Ask me again. Nicely. And I might consider it." he says, smirking again.

The urge to slap him out of existence comes back.

"I'll find someone else." you turn around, gritting your teeth.

"No, you won't." he calls behind you. "I know you're embarassed to ask for help. I wonder how you even managed to come to me."

"Shut up." you groan before turning to look at him again.

Instead of a smirk, there's a soft smile on his face and you curse yourself for feeling your heart flutter.

"Come on, dove. I know you're a nice girl and you can ask politely." he smirks again with his tongue in cheek.

You know he's not gonna give up until he gets what he wants.

"Please, come help me assemble my new computer?" you bat your eyelashes a few times for good measure and Felix chuckles.

"See, that wasn't so hard. I'll help you. But it comes with a price. I don't do things like this for free." there's a mischievous glint in his eyes, his tongue darting out to wet his plump lips.

You're totally not looking at them.

"What price?" you ask, your heart beating fast, partly in fear and partly in excitement.

"Oh. Don't worry about that, dove. I'll help you first, and then you'll help me." a shit eating grin spreads on Felix's face.

What did you even agree to?, you think.

He was your last resort, after asking seven of your other close friends (who were sadly close to him), they all turned you down with different excuses leaving you with no options but to ask the guy you hate.

"Whatever." you scoff and turn around. "Tomorrow, 7pm at my apartment. Don't be late."

"Sure thing, dove." he calls behind you and you wish you could curse him out.

Lee Felix.

The campus notorious fuckboy.

Everyone talks about him and his 'conquests', all the girls he slept with and then ghosted, but still every single one of them was obnoxiously crushing on him.

You'd hear them talk, how they wish he'd pick them next and a scowl would form on your face.

Do they not have any respect for themselves?

Though everyone talked about him, you never saw him with any girls.

You figured it's probably because you never attended any sort of parties, only keeping up with your studies and a few close friends.

Sadly, your close friends were friends with Felix and that meant you had to endure his presence.

Whether it was your go-to cafe, or a study session in the library, that asshole had to come and ruin your day.

He flirted openly with you and you'd always tell him to fuck off which only served to make him even more persistent.

He could have anyone he wanted and yet whenever he had the chance, he would throw a suggestive comment your way.

It was ticking you off constantly, and you knew he was playing a game, just trying to add another girl to his ever-growing list of fucks.

You weren't gonna give in.

But as much as you hated him, what you hated even more was the fact that his voice made your stomach flutter and his smile made your heart beat faster.

You'd be damned if you let that affect you, though.

That's what you thought, as you waited for him to arrive to your apartment.

Why are you nervous?, you think as you pace back and forth in your living room, biting on your nails.

Hopefully, he actually knows what he's doing since he brags about being a computer geek or else he'll just be wasting your time.

You frown when you notice that he's almost 20 minutes late.

What an asshole.

A series of knocks break you out of your thoughts and you make your way to the door slowly, letting him wait.

You peek through the peephole and see him standing there, in a tanktop, his hair messy, an unlit cigarette stuck behind his ear and shivers run through your body.

Why does he look so good?

He fidgets around as if he's nervous and you raise your eyebrow as he knocks again and runs his hand through his hair a few times, his plump lips pursed.

You stifle a laugh and decide to open the door.

"Took you long enough." he says with a straight face, obviously giving you the elevator eyes.

You hug yourself with your cardigan and squint at him.

"You're the one who's late!" you scoff in disbelief as he pushes past you and walks in like it's his place.

The audacity.

"Where is it?" he asks, grabbing the cigarette that was on his ear and taking out a lighter.

"You're not smoking in my apartment." you snatch the cigarette out of his mouth, throwing it right into the trash and he looks at you before his face breaks into a smirk.

"Bossy, are we?" he licks his lips.

You're totally not looking...

"Let's just get this over with." you say and turn around but notice he isn't following you.

"What is it now?" you look back at him as he crosses his arms over his chest, intentionally flexing his biceps and you gulp quietly, your eyes raking over his frame.

"What kind of host are you? You didn't even ask me if I wanted something to eat or drink." he says.

"You are insufferable." you scoff, but your cheeks heat up.

"Why, thank you." he bows a little. "I'd like some water, please."

"Fine." you all but stomp your way to the kitchen, contemplating for a moment to bring him literal ice in a glass and make him wait for it to melt.

But, you decide to be the bigger person and not get his arrogant teasing get to you.

"Here." you bring him a glass of water and he sips as he stares at you, and you know he's making sure to drink extra slowly just to get on your nerves.

"The computer parts are in my room." you say and Felix finally follows you.

As soon as he walks in, you can see him analyzing your room as he looks around.

Only then you realize how intimate it is to have someone in your room, taking a glimpse at your inner world and comfort place.

"Nice bed." he smirks, his eyes lingering on your soft baby blue blanket and a few plushies leaning against your pillows.

"Anyways. Here it is." you ignore his little comment, pointing at your table.

"Damn. You need this computer for what?" he asks as he looks over at the parts.

"I wanna start making games on Unity." you say and he chuckles.

"What's funny?" you think he's about to mock you, call you stupid for not knowing how to assemble your own computer yet wanting to do something so intricate like programming and 3D modeling.

"Nothing. I think that's cute." Felix's eyes travel all over your body again and you hug yourself.

"You're weird." is the only thing you can think of to answer, nervousness washing over you as the fact that you're alone with Felix in your room finally settles in your brain.

"This is gonna take a while." he hums.

"Alright, I'll just be on my bed then, catching up with my studies. Let me know if you need something." you say and he snorts.

"I thought you'd like to see what I'm doing so next time you don't have to call me if you hate me so much. It'll be like we're hanging out." Felix smirks and you let out an exhale.

"I'd rather not." you reply shortly before turning your back to him, deciding to ignore him.

You can hear him sigh, and for a while it's quiet, only some lofi music playing from your phone before you hear Felix handling the computer parts.

You concentrate on your book, highlighting the important sentences, and as you fall into a comfortable headspace, you almost forget about Felix.

Almost.

"Hey dove, you got something sweet to snack on?" his deep voice breaks your concentration and when you turn to look at him, he licks his lips suggestively and you have to roll your eyes.

He chuckles at your expression as you get up.

"I'll go see what I have."

You rummage through your kitchen cabinets and find some chocolate cookies which you serve on a plate and bring it together with a glass of juice.

"Thank you, dove." he smirks up at you and you just shake your head, making your way back to your comfy bed.

You're deep into your book when suddenly you feel your bed dip.

"What the hell are you doing?" you squeak when you turn around and see Felix leaning on your pillows, laying on your bed.

"Takin' a break." he closes his eyes with a smirk.

"You can't take a break on my bed."

"Why not? Am I making you nervous, dove?" Felix stares up at you and your heart starts hammering in your chest.

He has no right to look this pretty.

Wait, what?

"Hm?" he grins when you stay quiet.

"You have no effect on me whatsoever."

"Keep telling yourself lies." his voice dips lower as he sits up.

"Besides, it's rude to just lay down on someone's bed." you swallow nervously as Felix reaches towards you.

For some reason you can't move as you think he'll touch you but he doesn't, instead he picks up one of your plushies and looks at it.

"Do they have names?" he asks and you stare at him for a few moments before you start laughing in disbelief.

"What? It's a legit question." he shrugs, still holding the teddy in his hands.

"Why are you here, Felix?" you ignore him.

"To assemble your computer?" he bites on his lip.

He really should stop doing that.

"Yeah. So go do that."

"Damn, you're playing hard to get." he chuckles, leaning towards you.

"What is your problem?" you snap suddenly. "Didn't you like fuck half the campus? Why are you trying to get into my pants?"

His eyes widen a little, his lips falling open as he stares at you.

"I did what?" he chuckles.

"Don't act innocent. Everyone knows you're a fuckboy and you're just trying to fuck every girl here so you can have your list of conquests." you cross your arms over your chest, your mood becoming sour.

"Wow, people here really have a knack for telling stories." Felix chuckles again as he leans back on your pillows.

You frown as you turn to look at him.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"Nothing." he gets up suddenly. "I'll finish what I started." Felix adds, not looking at you as he sits back at your table and continues working.

You can feel the shift in the air, the atmosphere becoming heavier than before and you sigh as you stare at his back.

You get back to studying, trying to ignore the weird feeling stirring in your stomach.

"I'm done." Felix announces after some time and you stand up slowly, making your way to him. "Do you want me to install Windows and stuff?"

"If you don't mind. I mean, not that I can't do it, it's just since you're here, you know..." you start babbling nervously and Felix chuckles.

"Relax, dove." he says with a smirk.

"I'm relaxed." you quip.

"Sure you are." he nods, his lips pursed.

You wonder what it would be like to kiss them.

What is wrong with you? You hate Felix, you think, mentally slapping yourself.

"Okay, it'll take some time to install." he leans back in your chair, his legs spread and just then you notice the sweatpants he's wearing and how they look kind of tight.

And how you can kind of see the outline of him.

"Want something? Just ask." Felix snaps you out of your thoughts.

Oh my god, you panic. You were openly staring at his dick.

He's wearing that shit eating grin on his face as yours becomes red.

"N-no." your throat is dry suddenly.

"Did I do good?" he leans towards you suddenly, making you jolt and almost trip backwards, the back of your thighs hitting the table behind you.

He smirks up at you as your cardigan slides off your shoulder, giving him a better view of your tits in the flimsy top you had on.

"I- yes. I think." you try hard to remain normal but nothing is normal about Felix standing up and trapping you between the table and his body, as his palms lay flat on the wooden surface and you gulp.

"Now you gotta help me, dove." he says, his eyes traveling from yours to your lips.

He looks as if he wants to devour you and you feel like your entire being is on fire when he's close to you like that, the warmth of his body radiating onto yours.

"W-what do you want?" you try to sound normal, but your words come out shaky.

Felix smirks proudly, knowing the effect he has on you.

"You." he answers simply and you sputter a little.

"Excuse me?" you look at him with your eyes wide.

"I want you." he repeats, his face serious, his dark eyes seem even darker, filled with lust and your knees buckle a little.

"You're crazy if you think-"

"Just one kiss. And if you hate it, I'll stop bothering you." he smirks.

"You're insufferable." your heart beats fast, your core throbbing as you feel your arousal drip on your panties.

"So you've told me, dove." he whispers, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"Fine. One kiss." you give in and before you can even utter anything else, his lips are on yours.

It's not what you imagined, you thought he'd kiss you hungrily and sloppily, but his kiss feels more desperate and slow, like he's been living and waiting just for this moment, just to have you under his spell.

You know everything about him, or you think you do, you know he's just a fuckboy, and you're the same as those other girls who fell under his charm but his lips are so addicting.

You're cursing yourself on the inside but you can't stop kissing him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, your hand on the back of his neck, fingertips tangled in his dark hair.

Felix responds with a quiet hum, his hands flying to your waist as he presses himself into you and you gasp, giving him the opportunity to push his tongue inside your mouth.

He tastes like chocolate and cigarettes, like Felix.

You can't believe you're letting your sworn enemy kiss you.

His tongue explores your mouth, savoring the way you taste and swallowing the little moans you make as you pull at his hair.

Felix whines into you, biting on your lower lip before releasing it and leaning back.

His eyes are filled with lust and you're sure that you mirror his gaze.

"I take it you enjoyed that." Felix's voice is even more deep and husky as he observes your perky nipples poking against your flimsy top and your thighs subtly rubbing together.

His hands slide down to grab at your ass and you squeak, jolting and grabbing onto his arms.

"I- I..." you try to come up with some kind of witty answer but all that's running through your mind is letting Felix have his way with you.

You feel his hard cock pressing into you and he chuckles deeply when he realizes you have nothing to say.

"Cat got your tongue, baby?" he smirks, puffing his chest out and it runs right through you and lands into your core, more arousal pooling on your already soaked panties.

"You want more?" he asks as your lips tremble.

"Y-yeah." you say weakly, angry at yourself for being like this but at this point you were ready to throw everything out the window just for him.

You guess that he was just that good, and every girl fell for his charm and let him take her, and now you're going to be just another number on his list.

"Ask nicely, dove." his hand wraps around your neck and you gasp a little, leaning into his touch.

"P-please, more." your voice is almost unrecognizable and Felix laughs before grabbing you and turning you around quickly, his hand pushed into your upper back, making your front collide with the table.

You whimper as he slides off your cardigan, tossing it aside and pressing his middle into your ass hard.

"You're so sweet, my dove. Such a good girl." he holds you down, his other hand caressing your ass as he grinds into you slowly.

"Oh - shut up." you groan, feeling frustrated and needy.

"Don't be a brat." he warns with a little pinch on your flesh.

"Or what?" you challenge and he lets out a low chuckle before hooking his fingers in your shorts and pulling them down quickly, leaving you just in your panties, white with little pink flowers and he groans at the sight.

"So cute." he says and without warning his hand collides with your flesh as he gives your ass a hard smack.

"Ah! Felix!" you grip at the table, your eyes wide.

"Yeah, dove. Yeah. Say my name." he smacks you again and you wiggle, trying to move away.

"I warned you." he holds you down, pressed against the table. "Just be a good girl and take what I give you." he adds, landing another smack on your ass before his fingers slide on the wet patch on your panties.

"A-ah!" you whine as he plays with you.

"All this for me? I thought you hated me." he smirks.

"I- I do." you pant as he slides his fingers into your underwear, touching your wet lips and dipping his fingertips into your hole.

"She loves me though." Felix whispers as he leans over you, his fingers pressed into your clit.

"Oh-" you moan, jolting back into him.

"I bet she will love taking my cock even more." he adds and you whine, your brain turning into mush the more he teases you and talks to you like that.

"Mm." you hear him moan and look up at him just to see him licking at his fingers that were just on your pussy.

"F-Felix..." you moan, wanting him, needing him closer to you.

"Tell me what you want, dove." his hands slide on your thighs, ass and lower back and every touch feels like he's setting your skin on fire.

"B-bed." you whimper as he runs his fingers over your panties again.

"I thought you didn't want me on your bed."

The bastard.

"Please. Please." you beg, wiggling your ass and pushing it into his pelvis, trying to persuade him to stop teasing.

"If you insist." he smirks and picks you up so fast that you barely registered he got you in his arms as he laid you down on your soft blanket.

You turned to your plushies, feeling a bit weirded out as you reached out to move them.

"Let them watch." Felix chuckles with a smirk and you look at him, letting out a small giggle.

"Alright." you shrug and he wastes no time as he slides his tanktop off and you very obviously drool at the sight of his abs and nipples.

"See something you fancy?" he teases.

"Yes." you nod and he laughs.

"You're gonna love this even more." he says, taking his pants off and of course, he wasn't wearing any underwear, the fucking whore of a man.

His cock is hard and it springs out, smacking against his abs, all wet with pre cum and ready to be inside you.

"You're drooling, baby." Felix says, almost in a mocking tone.

"Am not." you quickly answer.

"Mhm." the shit eating grin is back as he puts his hands on your waist and slides your top up, taking it off.

"Wow." he stares at your breasts and you chuckle breathlessly.

"See something you fancy?" you tease him back and he throws his head back in a fit of laughter.

"Definitely." Felix bites his lower lip as his hands grab at your tits, massaging them and playing with your nipples, pinching them and pulling on them before he leans down and starts leaving kisses on your breasts.

You whine, needing more friction, your middle lifting up towards his, where his cock hangs delicious and heavy.

Felix smirks as he sucks on your nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud, his hands sliding your panties off as he throws them to the side.

The tip of his cock presses on your clit and both of you whine as he detaches from your nipple and looks down, taking his length in his hand and sliding it against your wet folds.

"Hey don't- not yet-" you shiver and he shushes you.

"Don't worry, I'll put on a condom." he reassures you before diving down to leave kisses on your hot skin.

He gets up suddenly, picking his pants off the floor and taking out a condom and you roll your eyes at him.

"What?" he rips open the packet as he looks at you.

"You came prepared." you say as he kneels between your legs.

"I'm always prepared." he smirks as he rolls the rubber on his cock.

Is it too late to back out now?, you think as his fingertips dance on your inner thighs before settling between your legs and playing with your folds.

You can't believe you're about to let Lee Felix fuck you.

You fell for it after all, you whine as he slowly pushes two of his fingers in, your pussy sucking them in like she was hungry for him.

"I don't think you even need to be prepped." he smirks, sliding his fingers in your warmth. "You're taking me so well already."

You can only moan at his words, arching into his hand.

He keeps smirking, fucking his fingers in and out of you as slow as humanly possible, driving you insane with frustration.

"Oh my god, Felix just fuck me!" you thrash against the soft blanket and he laughs, the jerk.

"Beg for it." he grins, sliding his fingers out and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"You're an asshole." you whimper and he raises his brow at you.

"Am I?" Uh oh. The look in his eyes becomes darker.

"Let me show you then. How much of an asshole I am." he mutters before gripping your body and swiftly turning you around, his hand on the back of your neck as he pushes your face into the pillow.

You gasp as he smacks your ass, your hands grabbing at the blanket.

He grips your hip and without warning pushes his length inside you making you moan loudly as he bottoms out.

The stretch is painful at first but your body is burning up for him and as he fits himself inside you, you clench around him, the pain turning into pleasure.

"See how she fucking loves me? She's trying to keep me in." he chuckles behind you and you whine, pushing back into him.

"Please, fuck me Felix."

He laughs as he gathers your hair in his hand, holding it in a makeshift ponytail.

"See, you can be so nice. You just need someone who knows how to put you in your place." he leans down to whisper in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin before he leans back.

Before you can even catch a breath, Felix pulls your head back harshly and sets a brutal pace, fucking into you fast, the sounds of skin slapping skin loud as he rattles your body with his.

"Yeah. Take it. That's it." he spanks you as he bullies his cock deep inside you, the tip kissing your cervix with every brutal thrust.

You can't even speak as you hold onto the pillow for dear life, a string of moans and curses spilling from your lips.

You're already close and you feel so embarassed because you've never been fucked so good that you're close to cumming in a mere minute.

Your legs shake as Felix continues his onslaught, both with his unforgiving hips and his hand smacking your ass, leaving red marks on your flesh, his other hand pulling your head so far back that you feel like you can't breathe properly.

"Cum for me, dove." he smirks as he feels you clenching hard around him.

"Y-yes, Felix, ah!" you manage to whimper as you explode all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

"That's what I like to see. Good girl." he continues fucking you and tears gather in your eyes as waves of pleasure keep running through your body.

"No one ever fucked you right, hm?" he snickers at the state of you. "Don't worry dove. I'll make sure you can never cum from any other dick except mine." he adds and fucks you even harder, which you thought was impossible but he manages to knock all the breath you had in your lungs and make you cum once again.

"Shit!" his hips stutter and he pulls out quickly.

"Come here." he almost growls as he rips off the condom.

You turn around on all fours, dizzy and ears ringing, your body still shaking as your pussy leaks.

"Open your mouth." he orders and you stupidly obey, too fucked out to protest.

Felix shoves his cock into your mouth, making you gag as you choke on his length.

"You're gonna take it all." he fucks into you a few times before he explodes, pushing deep into you and making you swallow everything.

"Shit." he whines as he pulls out and you cough a little.

"Are you okay?" Felix asks as you sit up, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek and you look at him like he has three heads.

"Why do you care? I know I'm just a number on your list now so you can drop the act and leave." your eyes water for some reason and Felix frowns.

"Why don't you first tell me what you heard about me, dove?" he comes closer to you even though you try to push him away.

"That you slept with half the campus and ghosted every girl you fucked." you say bitterly and he has the audacity to laugh.

"What's funny?" you spit, anger bubbling up inside you.

"You really believe everything you hear? It's just a story, y/n. I did not in fact fuck half the campus." Felix continues giggling. "I'm kinda flattered people think I can pull that many girls, though." he adds, shaking his head.

"Oh." you're flabbergasted for a moment.

"I only have eyes for one girl." he says, his hand caressing your cheek and you cough, choking on your spit.

"W-what?" you ask, still not processing what he's telling you.

"It's you, dove. Why did you think I flirted with you?"

"I thought you did that with everyone."

"Oh, you are so wrong and I'm gonna prove it to you. Starting with a date tomorrow?" Felix says and you're still sitting in disbelief.

"Don't look so shocked." he chuckles and leans in, kissing you gently, his arms wrapping around you as he lays you down again.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

"Dead serious." he presses his lips on your cheek.

"Alright. We can go on a date. You're still insufferable, though." you smirk at him and Felix laughs, his sincere laughter making you giggle too.

As he cuddled up against you, your bed a mess after your fun activities, half of your plushies forgotten on the floor, you're glad you had to ask him to help you.

"I think your Windows finished installing."

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @jeonginslefthand @porangporangmeong @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana

@lixies-favorite-cookie not me hearing your thoughts about fuckboy lix🤭

[luveline]

Hi jadeeeee I have a request for coworker James! Another man whether it’s at work or somewhere else starts hitting on reader and James get jealous and realizes he hates seeing her with other guys

ty for requesting 💌 fem

It’s another sunny day at the office, but today is the day the vending machine men come in and fill them, so it’s not all bad. The doors and windows are wide open, the air is fresh and clean. 

“It’s too hot,” Remus complains without any real passion. 

“It’s not that bad,” Sirius says, though he raises his hand to begin fanning Remus anyhow. “It feels hotter than it is because of the humidity.” 

“I feel amazing,” James says. He gives you a nudge with his shoe, his hair tickling his neck as he leans back in his chair. “It’s not that hot, is it?” 

“It’s boiling,” you say. 

You were never going to agree with him. It could be sub zero and you’d tell him you were on fire. James rolls his eyes at you and continues a rather lavish existence of sun, breeze, and cold grapes, their crisp insides popping between his teeth. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

James lifts his head. 

“That’s okay,” Jordan says, to James’ immediate affront. There’s no need for the man in charge of maintaining the vending machine to be talking to you in that tone. It’s bordering too sweet. 

“I’m always in your way,” you laugh. 

“You? In my way? Never.” 

You turn to Remus with an obvious expression. Is he flirting with me? it says. 

Remus looks at James —what the fuck?— before he gives you a tentative back and forth of his head, weighing it up. He shrugs. 

James shakes his head resolutely. 

You give them both the silent version of I understand and settle down in your seat again. The vending machine guy (what’s his name again? James can’t remember) pops open the front cover of the machine and takes out the change box. Clearly, he doesn’t categorise you or the boys as a risk of burglary. 

“So,” Jordan says, “how was your weekend? Did you do much?” 

“In this weather?” you ask with light-humoured sarcasm. “I went on a couple of walks, nothing huge. How about you?” 

“Went to a couple of matches.” 

“Rugby or football?” 

“Rugby, always.” 

James feels the pressure of his teeth clenching at the back of his head. “Do you play, mate?” he asks. 

Jordan looks at him in surprise. “No, we just watch. It’s an excuse to have a pint before five.” 

You break two slices of your clementine away from each other. James doesn’t know why, but your gaze is on him, and that’s where he wants it. “Day drinker?” he asks sympathetically. 

“James,” Sirius says, laughing. “Grow up.” 

“Sometimes,” Jordan says. He finishes reinstalling the change holder and starts to push snacks and drinks onto the vending machine shelves. “Gotta have a little bit of fun every now and then, right?” 

He emphasises to you. 

You give a shy smile. “Right.” 

Jordan finishes his job and wishes everyone goodbye quickly after that. You chew your clementine, your finger looped under your bracelet, tugging slowly round and around. He fucked that up for you, didn’t he? You couldn’t get very far with him poking holes at poor Jordan, but… you’d been smiling at him nicely. You’re allowed to smile at whoever you want to, of course you are, so why did James act like that? 

“Sorry,” he says. 

You slide your thumb between slices of clementine. “To me?” you ask from the corner of your mouth. “For what?” 

Sirius and Remus laugh at the same time. 

James ignores them. “I was mean to him. How are you ever gonna get a date if I bully the vending machine guy?” 

“You think I can’t get a date?” you ask. 

“No.” He grimaces. “No, just, he’s a dickhead.” 

“As opposed to who? You?” you ask. 

James is pretty sure his vision goes white. He hates seeing you with other boys, but this isn’t where he wanted the conversation to go. He doesn’t wanna be your boyfriend. He just hates seeing you happy with other people. 

Oh, god, he thinks. That’s horrible. 

“I think you can do a whole lot better than Jacob the vending machine guy.” 

“Jordan,” you correct, laughing. You don’t bring him up on avoiding your real question, perhaps you don’t notice. You just laugh with Remus and pass James a piece of your clementine. “Vending machines are an honest living. Don’t be so classist.” 

“You’re classist,” he rebukes weakly. He ignores Sirius’ knowing gaze to offer you his punnet of grapes. “Horrible woman.” 

“Get it together, Potter.” 

James doesn’t know what to say to you after that, so he says nothing at all. Your clementine is sweet on his tongue. 

[bunny-jpeg]

(ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ mad(ly in love) max｡ ⊹˚.⋆

partially inspired by this by @angldelight before it got away from me! <3

max knew you looked better in blue than red. and if you did look good in red, it was the red of the his team rather than the garish red of ferrari. he believed the statement that everyone is a ferrari fan even if they don't know it, because if they saw a photo of you, they'd have brand loyalty to the stallion for the rest of their days.

there was a reason why your face and name were everywhere in your home country. you were a pride and joy to the nation you called home. but, max was more than happy to stake a claim on you.

max liked you because you challenged him. far too many women would bend over backwards for the three time champion, but you simply glared him down with your hands on your hips. you stood toe to toe with him even if there was a height difference. but you kept your gaze steady on him.

"don't fuck me over again." you said, "or you'll regret it."

"i would never do it on purpose, princess. maybe you should watch where you are going from now on." he bite back in response. he noticed a twitch in your hand, like you wanted to grab him by the front of his driver's suit and pull him close. either for a punch or a kiss.

it would eventually lead in kisses. max liked when you were mad because then that meant he could flip the script and get ferrari's little princess on her knees with a mouthful of verstappen cock. it was honestly cute, while he wanted to dive into your sweet cunt and make your insides sticky with his cum. he'd have to make you acquainted with his size.

max verstappen was fuckin' crazy though, being involved with him was like being a deer and getting your leg caught in a trap. the type of obsession that clamped around you, dug its teeth into your fragile skin. you were so cute though, something some delicate and soft. formula one was for the toughest, the mental and physical strain of it all (that could be why he was so... off). and while max believed in you, he worried.

where you were going, who you were with. you hadn't only been in monaco for a few years and while you had the likes of charles to help you around. when he heard about men you had met, max felt something curl inside of him.

it started inauspicious. he slipped an air tag into the back pocket of your jeans while you were in your driver's room getting ready for dinner with some guy that max couldn't even remember the name of. he was all smiles as he wished you a great time.

too bad there was an issue with your car. how could you have a flat tire already, you just got the car? and when you asked your date to come pick you up, he totally ghosted you. little did you know that while you were struggling with you car, max went to meet your date and give him a few firm words. that was when the real mad max came out.

"listen mate. you're never going to give her what she needs. hell, not even what she wants. there are plenty of fish in the sea." he got a little closer to the other man, "but you can't have her."

"why?" your date swallowed.

max nodded and flashed that winning smile, "because she's mine. and i know she may have talked so nice to you. she's like that. charming. but sadly she's taken. so i think it's in everyone's best interest that you delete her number and go back to finding your perfect match." he patted the man on the shoulder like they were buddies.

"and if i don't."

max's smile only grew, "i don't like people fucking what's mine. she's taken, mate. move on." he couldn't verbalize exactly how he'd rough up the other man. he didn't want to make headlines. but there was something in his gaze that made your date high tail it out of there. your number blocked and deleted.

max then used the air tag to find you at a bar close to your flat where you were drinking away your sorrows. but, don't worry about that! max was now here to make sure that you had the best night ever. while that meant ending up drunk and curled up in his bed, but he didn't mind. he was even a gentleman and created a barrier of pillows between the two of you. no funny business. even if he wanted to. when he eventually fucked you, he wanted you conscious.

that air tag would come in handy, turns out that you wore the same pair of black levi's jeans. max was wondering if he had to get more air tags to place along other items. but, he lucked out with that one. you thought it was a strange coincidence that he seemed to be where you were.

and he'd laugh and tell you, "small city, right?"

it took months of hard work but, eventually he got to sink his pretty cock into your prettier hole. the happiest day of his life. he had invited you on his boat for the afternoon, and while he didn't expect much. he wasn't expecting your pretty tits on such display. a pretty red checkered print bikini and sandals as you stayed close to max.

and then alone, out in the waters. you ended up straddling max's waist while he sat on one of the seats up on the deck. it was couch-like and allowed you two some room as you rubbed your sweet pussy up against the front of his shorts. his hands dug into the plushness of your ass as he moved against you. you were painfully pretty, and it drove max insane. you'd try to run him off the track, but he'd always get an apology by having your pretty tits in his face and your pussy around his cock.

"you feel so good." he said, "you're so soft."

you whimpered, "i'm not that soft. you keep feeding me all this good food since i came to visit! my team is going to be pissed." you squirmed a little.

he kissed at your breasts in front of your face and laughed, "well, then. i guess i'll have to keep feeding you better food." his teeth then nipped your left breast and it made you whine. his hands continued to grope you ass and you squirmed a little more.

you didn't realize that you're movements only made him harder and he had to force himself to let go of you to take his cock out of his shorts. this was a dream come true, after months of being your little shadow.

"you know how to do this?" he asked.

you held onto his shoulders and chuckled, "yes, i've had sex before." which made something cold run through max's body, but it was quickly heated up once more when you sank down on him.

other men might had had you, but he was going to make sure you were his forever. no need to get stuffed with another man's cock, when you have max who, as he might add, can get into you quite easily. it was like you were made for him as you started to ride him. he pulled you into a kiss with one hand while he groped your behind with the other. he felt your core shiver around him as you continued to move up and down on his cock.

this only lit his need for you more. if you were so good on top, how good were you on the bottom, or at your side, or stuffed full of fingers and toys as max pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. he wanted you, he was mad for you. while he'd sometimes pull dirty tricks on the track, he had a whole other set of skills for you. because he could never hurt you on the track, too much of a risk for your safety. but he'd bruise your little pussy and cover your pretty soft breasts in large bites. he'd hope that cameras would get a good look at the pretty marks.

a lot easier to scare off men than to see a woman decorated with hickies. if he had it his way, you'd be wearing a little chain with his initials on it. or better yet, chubby little verstappen baby at your hip. the thought made something hot run through him. oh, that unlocked something in his brain as he was balls deep inside of you. he continued to leave a mess of bites on your chest as you continued to rut against him. your back arched a little when he bit one of your nipples.

"i need you to burn that bikini when we get to shore." he said between heavy pants as he grabbed your ass roughly and pushed himself up as much as he could go. his voice was a little strained from the intensity of it all.

"why?" you asked as you looked down at you.

"because, someone might get the wrong idea. and i don't want you getting hurt." he replied. it showed off far too much, too much of what belonged to him.

he rubbed up against you further. his cock poking some of your deepest parts, he wondered if he was the biggest you ever had. or if there was some other guy in another part of the world who took you apart better than him. unlikely. the way he watched you wiped drool from the corner of your mouth as you rode him made him excited.

during his time racing alongside you, he had seen you at euphoric highs of victory and deep anger when losing. but, this was a whole other look, you were far from focused. only really thinking about the cock, his cock, stuffing you full. guess there was no need to get you into his clothes and keep an air tag in your bad anymore, not when you had such a sweet look across your face.

he ran his blunt nails down the side of your thighs and felt you clench harder around his cock. which made sparks appear in the back of max's mind.

"pretty thing." he said. there was a softness to you that he wanted to sink his teeth into. especially the slight chub at your hips, next time he wanted to bite down on the skin and leave pretty bruises across it. you were just so beautiful. he thought formula one was for ugly men because they wore a helmet all the time, not pretty women who made max go insane.

you whined a little bit and started to feel yourself really get hot all over. his cock fit in you perfectly. while lust clouded your head, you honestly did think about throwing out the bikini you were wearing on board the boat. he kissed at your pulse point and you moaned, your pussy fluttered around him.

"i need that bikini gone before we get back to shore." he said.

"why, what will i wear?" you asked a little shy. you couldn't get back onto land with nothing on!

he grabbed at your ass once more and pushed you down on his cock, then held you for a moment. his lips were squared with yours as he said, "i got some extra clothes in the bedroom below deck." he knew that it was either red bull or verstappen merchandise. something that he had a lot of and could get wet.

while it wouldn't show off your pretty figure. the idea of you getting a bit chilled while heading 'home' and having your nipples poke through a shirt with his logo on it made him hotter. maybe he'll turn the ac up in the car on the drive home.

"i don't want anyone to see the bikini ever again. i'll buy you something nicer." he said as he thrusted up into you, "i don't want hungry eyes on you and neither do you. you're not a piece of meat." even though max wished to devour you, you were not meat. he'd say you were more like fruit. something refreshing and bright. something to crave on a warm day like today.

"i should have something in my bag." you said as you continued to ride him.

he held your soft hips and looked up at you, "no, no." he said then licked his top lip, "wear my clothes, they'll be more comfortable." and it'll hide your figure better.

you were the first to climax, and he managed to get you across the seat of the couch and fuck you from behind doggy style. perfect angle to make sure every last drop. you clawed at the faux leather and arched your back, your sweet noises against the sounds of the sea. your pussy clenched around him as he bullied the tip up against your cervix.

it was important for the two to get acquainted.

he finally finished inside of you and let out a sweet groan. he clenched onto your hips tightly and watched you go fully limp against the couch as you tried to catch your breath. he pulled out and gooey cum dripped out of your poor pussy. ah, it's okay. he simply pushed it all back inside of you.

with the amount he finished inside of you, you were at least 3% dutch now!

when max was finished with you, he knew that he was going to keep the little princess of ferrari. maybe eventually you'll wear the red bull logo across your pretty tits when you entered the paddock. or maybe better yet, the verstappen last name. but for now he'd simply have to stake his claim by shoving all his cum into your sweet cunt. after all it was a safer place to keep it compared to his own fist.

-

even with the start of the new season. his fixation of your cunt didn't end. so what you're on a different team, that didn't mean he couldn't easily go to the ferrari area and just get you to himself. when you win the first race of the season and sing along to your national anthem, max smiles in second. not because he is happy that you are winning.

but because he knew that his cum was dampening the front of your sweet cotton panties. you may have the trophy over your head, but he knew after this, he'd get another chance to sink another load in you. <3

a/n: is this anything? does anyone want more of this????

[alastorss]

a/n: hihi @bri22222 !! tumblr for some reason ate your ask in my inbox but here is the cat demon!reader taking care of sick alastor request you sent <3 i hope you like it!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You had taken it upon yourself to become Alastor's own personal nurse when he got sick, despite his outspoken displeasure in being babied.

He was an Overlord, for god's sake, and one of the most feared at that. There was a certain irritation in him when you would show up to his room (which didn't even have a bed in it until he fell ill and you decided to push one in yourself, much to his dismay).

You'd sport all kinds of goods; warm jambalaya, his own mother's recipe, that he would deny even though he was itching to eat it. Some cough drops that tasted horribly of sickly sweet honey and lemon. Fresh boxes of tissues since he was going through them faster than you could imagine.

The worst of them all was when you would show up at the foot of his bed with little rodents, eyes wide and expectant for praise that would never come. Then you'd settle in his bed, curled up in his lap like you owned the place, and fall asleep.

While the warmth was nice, which he would never admit, and he liked the feeling of his hand smoothing down the hair between your set of drooping feline ears, he's not sure how much more of this he can take.

"You know," he starts one day when you sit at the edge of his bed, straightening out the duvet as you do. "I do wish you would stop fretting over me."

"You're sick," you deadpan. "And you took care of me when I was sick. At least let me return the favour."

He grimaces, remembering how miserable you looked when you caught a nasty flu a few months ago. Who knew cats were so pitiful when sick?

"Really, dear, it's fine! I was just helping a friend."

You frown, unconvinced. "And I'm just helping you back! Come on, you can barely go downstairs to get food by yourself."

"I'm perfectly fine!" He mutters between his grit teeth, smiling bordering on baring his fangs at you. Unfortunately, he doesn't do a very good job at intimidating you. Not after you've already seen his soft side of clinging to you like you're his personal heater.

Of course, his cursed demon body decides to betray him at that exact moment and he falls into a coughing fit, sputtering as he rakes in sharp breaths of air.

You're quick to climb over the bed to him, straddling his lap and forcing him to drink from his glass of water. He glares at you but drinks without refusal.

Alastor is the Radio Demon. Owner of souls. Entertainer extraordinaire. Yet here he is, taken down by a pathetic fever and being coddled by his favourite feline.

He carefully pinches your tail to get you to pull away from him, yelping in the process. "I'm fine," he hisses. "I don't need your help. I don't need to be taken care of!"

Your ears flatten against your head at his tone and you scramble off of his lap, cowering like a wounded animal.

For a moment he feels a flash of remorse, or whatever feeling has replaced what would be guilt in that black heart of his. He even considers opening his mouth to say something more reassuring. But then you scurry out of the room and slam the door behind you. His ears ring from the echo of it, then deathly silence follows.

Alastor reaches over to drink from his water glass on his own, only to realize it was knocked over in the commotion.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

He counts the days that pass, subconsciously or not, and feels his smile shrinking by each daylight.

Sure, he was quick to temper, but he had never lashed out at you before. It's an awful feeling that sinks into his stomach, making him dread what's to come when he fully recovers.

Worst of all, he was wrong. He does need your help.

It was peaceful at first and he enjoyed the silence that came without your company. However, he hadn't realized how accustomed he had grown to your ambient presence.

How had he never realized you were so loud when you made your entrances, or that you purred ever so slightly when he scratched just behind your ears? And was he really so weak that he was thinking of apologizing? He can't stand the idea that he may have frightened or hurt you.

It used to be so easy for him to sit with his own thoughts. Nowadays it's hard without getting to hear about your day or getting to fluster you with his incessant teasing.

He's cold, too. He would gladly let you fetch him a hundred rodents if it meant getting to hold onto you in his sick state.

On the fifth day, he decides he's had enough. The demon doesn't even bother knocking, instead opting to materialize from the shadows and jumpscare you from behind.

"I'm..." he seethes through his teeth, eyes thin and twitching.

You tilt your head at him curiously, prickled hairs flattening back down as confusion replaces your adrenaline. "You... what?"

"I'm sorry," he finally manages to get out, though it comes strained and awkward. Still, he swallows his pride and avoids your eyes while he continues. "I was wrong."

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, intrigued by the sight of such a powerful Overlord trying to do something as uncharacteristic as apologize. In the end, you can't contain your laughter.

He glowers at you as you topple over in your bed in a fit of giggles, wiping away the tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you sap. Come here!" You sit up and open your arms wide, a big, cheeky (and smug) grin spreading across your face.

Grumbling, Alastor shuffles into your bed and collapses into you, effectively crushing you under him. You don't seem to care, arms tugging him closer and tail brushing over his body.

"You missed me that much?"

"One more word out of you and I am leaving."

"Aww, so that's a yes?"

The Radio Demon only sighs, heavy eyes drifting shut in your warmth.

"Don't get it twisted, dearest. I will not be thanking you for putting rats in my sheets every morning."

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria (send an ask to be added!)

[plasticferal]

can u plsss write a Matt smut where the reader is like obsessed with his teeth and then she kind of jokes ab licking his teeth but shes not actually joking and then u know the rest

take it or leave it | matt sturniolo.

authors note: this was so fun to write. here’s some kind of soft, lust filled bff!matt turned lovers.

warnings: fem reader, not obscene or 18+ but read at your own discretion. a lot of dialogue, light biting, mark leaving, explicit language.

you just can't stop staring at your best friend. all he's doing is chewing on a paper straw, swirling it around his soft drink. his eyes are glued to his screen, scrolling through his phone, both of his elbows planted on the dining table.

"i can feel you staring," matt talks with the straw still in his mouth, flashing his perfect teeth with a conceited smirk. you scoff, digging your fork back into the dessert that sits in front of you, to avoid the interrogation you feel coming your way.

"i didn't say stop," you feel his eyes burn holes into you, tone earnest and deep, just waiting for you to glance up at him again.

"wasn't even staring," you speak through a muffled mouthful of cake, not caring if he sees the food in your mouth. he's the closest person in your life, he's probably seen worse.

"real sexy, kid" he teases, staring at your mouth and chuckling as you cover it to swallow your food, flipping him off from across the table.

"no for real, what were you looking at? like be specific," he asks, placing his phone screen down on the table, shuffling in his chair and adjusting his posture. you raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he's on about.

"i can't just admire my best friend?" you sarcastically smile and bat your eyelashes at him, resting your chin into the palm of your hands.

"specifics, go." matt isn't having it, and you drop the act fast.

you ponder on your answer for a moment, or at least pretend to. you know exactly what you want to say but you don't need him getting a big head. well, bigger. he's a walking, talking, humble brag. especially around you.

"ah, okaaaay," you pout your lips with contemplation.

"your eyes i guess. they're pretty. you know that, though" you shrug, prodding at your dessert again, not having any intention on finishing it at this point. matt has you cornered with his new train of thought.

"boring, next." he deadpans, throwing his head back with an eye roll before looking at you again. he folds his arms over his chest, leaning back leisurely.

"fine. ah, your teeth. i'm like obsessed with them. is that a better answer?" you quip, grabbing your plate and pushing away from the table to make your way to the sink.

you hear matt behind you let out an audible "huh?" and can picture the confusion on his face. you don't know what it is about his teeth, or his smile in general. you just get stunned at how perfect they are, the way they just suit his face so much.

they just look like they could form the perfect bite in your skin. he's always chewing a new flavoured gum, flashing them subtly past his perfectly pink lips, and his breath always smells nice. it's weirdly inviting. all thoughts you absolutely shouldn't be having about matthew.

"hang on, rewind. my teeth?" there's an amused underlining to his response, and you just wish you could take back what you said, joke or not.

you rinse the plate off and immediately ignore him, drying your hands with paper towel before bee-lining for the bin in the small dark corner of the room.

"you got your answer, matthew. get over it," you exhale, tossing it into the black rubbish bag.

"no no, i'm not done with you yet," you hear his chair make a disturbing scratchy squeak against the vinyl floors with how fast he pushes his chair back, following where your body is moving.

you walk around the dining table in the opposite direction of him, but he changes directions to match yours. you collapse onto the couch, sitting cross legged and he falls into the spot right next to you, despite having the entire couch. your shoulders are touching and his knee his touching yours.

"you were staring at my teeth and now i need to know why," matt requests, leaning one elbow up on the back of the couch, facing you completely.

"i can't answer tha-"

"y/n" he cuts you off seriously.

"i don't know, okay? drop it, matthew." you push back with frustration, not understanding why he can't. it's either he's pushing your buttons on purpose or he can sense the subject easily taking a turn in a different direction.

"i'm not trying to piss you off. i just wanted know. sorry" his voice softens, and he shifts so he's facing the t.v.

you almost feel bad snapping at him, considering you instigated his reaction in the first place by not justifying it straight away.

you bite your nails, trying to avoid talking. it's so hard with matt. he just always brings it out of you. looking at him while he watches the screen ahead of you just makes you yearn to hear his voice again. he's so quiet for the most part that when you get him out of his shell you don't ever want him to stop.

"i've always liked your teeth. i don't know what it is. i wish i could explain it but i can't," you speak shyly, a very rare feeling around him.

you have literally shared every waking thought with this man. it just feels so different when it involves him personally. on a physical descriptive level. matt leans his head back on the massive couch cushion, giving you a lazy half grin, looking up at you through hooded eyes.

"do you just like staring at them or do you wanna like, touch them?" he flashes his teeth like a vampire, and you push his face away with a laugh, knowing he's teasing with good intention. he chuckles, pushing your own hand back into your body.

"you're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

"not until i can wrap my head around it, no" he folds his arms over his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits and they disappear under his oversized hoodie, snickering at his own defence.

he looks you in the eyes, the same fiery stare he gives you when he's about to say something out of pocket, you can read him like a book.

"you wanna touch 'em?"

"matt," you scold, knowing whatever he has planned is just to keep this joke lingering. or what you think is a joke to him.

"i'm serious, let's see if we can get to the bottom of this little fetish of yours" he's so pleased with his words, grinning like an idiot as he nestles his face closer to yours.

"i'd get more pleasure out of it with my tongue," you chortle, then pause suddenly, not believing what you just said out loud.

you force your face to plaster a look on it that says 'i'm joking' but there's no part of what you just said that matt is taking comically.

"go on." matt replies.

"what's gotten into you, tonight?" you have a half simper half befuddled look as you lean back to make sure you're seeing him right.

making sure you're speaking to matt, not someone posing as him with how bold and absurd he's been acting for the past few minutes. he's always being flirtatious, in a bantering and unalloyed manner. this felt different, he's being a lot more direct. a lot less blithe.

"i am literally giving you one chance to do this and then i'm never bringing it up again. take it or leave it, y/n"

"open your mouth, then.” you say in a ‘i bet you won’t’ tone, not believing he actually will. you’re taken aback when he tilts his head up lightly, an innocent look on his face when he parts his mouth, creating a perfect oval.

“you’re seriously okay with this?” you ask, beginning to lean forward, tempting and just waiting for the moment he pulls away, or snaps his mouth closed. he nods, mouth still open.

you know him well enough by now to understand that when matt says he’ll never mention it again, he means it. he’s petty like that.

“fuck it, m’god” you mumble, cupping the side of his jaw, fingertips resting under his ear and being tickled by his hair, pulling him to you.

your breaths intertwine as you hover over his mouth, your lips don’t touch when you poke your tongue out and let it slide behind his top teeth and trail across the sharp edge, slowly, left to right. when you pull away, you observe him.

matt closes his mouth, sucking his teeth and plastering a thoughtful look on his face. you wait for his response.

“well?” you can only wait for so long before you’re trying to entice him to say something, anything.

he adjusts himself on the lounge, full body facing you at this point, if he was pushed up any closer he’d be on top of you.

“just like, out of curiosity. can you do it again?” he asks bashfully. he did say take it or leave it. so you take it, while he’s dangling it in front of you.

this time, you curve your hand gently around the back of his neck to guide his face. tilting your head slightly before pulling him in. you lick the back of the teeth again, even slower than the first time. you can feel matt holding his breath, and the taste of the root beer he just had still lingering.

matt takes a deep breath when you part from him again, flaring his nostrils slightly and sucking on the inside of his cheek. he looks confused, in a content way. but confused nonetheless.

you stare at him, memorising this look on his face. without breaking his stare with you, matt reaches for a pillow and throws it over his lower body, holding it in place. before he has a chance to set it onto his lap, you glance down to see the bulge forming under his black shorts.

“did you like my tongue in your mouth, matthew?” your words are jovial, but he turns away from you after you question him, looking quite literally anywhere else.

“no-i,i mean. fuck, i don't know. no." he rambles, response being faster than his brain can even register, not pulling out the best choice of words from his vocabulary.

“no? is that why you let me do it twice?” you tease, turning the table on him.

"you're right," he pauses.

"maybe we should make it three. for good luck." he looks back at you with a red hue on his cheeks, simpering smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he hugs the pillow on his lap.

"only if you ask nicely," you squint your eyes, and he rolls his.

"i'm not beggin' for it. no way." he shakes his head, boston accent coming through a lot thicker when he's defensive. it happens a lot, and that's how you know you have him cornered.

"your call, matty. take it or leave it." the front you're putting on for him is a fraud, having a gut feeling that it's the only cue he needs to surrender. he's silent for a solid minute.

"fuck, jesus, okay." he finishes, grabbing your face this time. he caresses your jaw, and his touch is so firm and so warm.

the pillow between your bodies is like a barrier, but he pushes up against it hard to bring you as close to his face as you can. you brace yourself for him to open his mouth again, but instead, your lips collide.

your eyes close instinctively and his soft, wet lips move with yours, taking your bottom lip between the kiss, and letting his tongue slide in and dance across your own. slowly he pulls away, fluttering inches over your mouth instead of distancing himself.

"i don't know, i don't know why i just-" matt is still touching your face through his panic-stricken words.

you don't even counter his sentence before grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him back to your mouth. you shove the pillow off the lounge in-between your bodies with your knee while shifting your body weight onto his lap, an easy transition considering how close you've been the whole time.

matt grabs your waist immediately, securing you on top of him and deepening the kiss. you feel your throat shake with his small, desirous moan into your mouth. you sink all of your body weight onto him and can feel his dick underneath you growing harder, heat radiating from between his legs.

the kiss becomes heavier, more desperate and messy, missing each others mouths and clashing your teeth, taking breaths for a split second before attacking each other's lips again. your nails dig into his shoulders and matt's hands lower, stationing on your upper thigh.

you're in such a state of disbelief but ignore every doubt or worry you're forcing yourself to have. you've mentally convinced yourself this is a dream. you're not actually grinding into your bestfriend's groin, making out with him and having his thumbs get closer and closer to your heat, feeling wet already at the friction.

matt kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek bone, the tip of your nose, then your jaw. he trails the kisses on your jaw lower and lower, grazing his teeth along your delicate skin until he reaches he crease of your neck just under your ear, and you lean into him as much as you possibly can.

"you like my teeth so much, wait until you see what they can do to your neck," he forces deeply against your skin, biting at your earlobe.

"god, matt," you exhale.

you feel a sharp, stinging suck to your neck, making you gasp. he pulls your skin into his mouth, tongue rubbing the area that he's suffocating in his bite. he pulls away, making a sharp sound when he lets go. he repeats the same thing just underneath his first bite, and your body is twisting and distorting in his arms. you tug at his hair with a warning.

"you’re gonna have to explain those marks." you tremble, yet not stopping him. he taunts a stifled laugh.

"don't care," he starts, pulling your shirt off your shoulder and sucking another deep purple mark on your collar bone.

"i'll spell my name out on your skin if i have to." it’s like he’s a trance, trailing his middle finger along the bites he just left before looking up at you with a dazed smile.

his chest is rising and falling prominently, both of you catching your breath after the intense session. matt gently presses his lips to yours again, and you lean your forehead against his. he grips at the bottom hem of your shirt, toying with the fabric.

"if i knew my teeth would get you on top of me, i would have let you lick em' sooner," he has a crooked, dopey grin on his face. you blush, flustered at his words.

"is this is insane? you don't think you're gonna regret it?" you're cautious with your words, voice gentle, head still leaning against his and your fingers playing with the hair creeping on the nape of his neck.

"i could never regret you." he shakes his head softly, making you smile and peck another gentle kiss on his lips. you know he means his words, and they make you want to melt into a puddle.

"smile for me quickly," you banter, holding onto his shoulders but pulling back to look at his face properly.

he covers his face with his big hands and you let out a hearty laugh, attempting to pry them off and begging him to stop hiding.

"matt! you'll let me shove my tongue down your throat but can't smile for me?" your stomach hurts with the laughter caused by the sheer fight he's putting up covering his face.

when you finally get him to drop his hands he has the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. smiling ear to ear, and eyes closed shut, putting on a show for you. he drops his face quickly once you've had your time to look, and has those signature tired and heavy eyes make an appearance once again.

you lean in, slowly, so slow. your face is drawing him in like a magnet, him following your moves to meet in the middle. he flashes his teeth once again, and you run the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip, feeling his teeth too, budging his mouth open.

"now you're just taking advantage of it," his raspy voice speaks, pulling you back to his mouth by your neck and leading with his tongue, letting it slide in and moaning into your parted lips. they finally sink into each others after teasing each other, seeing who falls into the kiss first.

your tongues fight for dominance and matt grabs the back of your neck hard, forcing you to stay where you are. you're tilting left and he's tilting right as you focus on breathing through your nose to stay attached to each other as long as you can.

you can literally feel matt take his time to explore your mouth, circling every inch he possibly can. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites hard, making you gasp before pulling back and letting go, both of your mouths wet and glistening with each others saliva.

matt wipes your mouth with his thumb, applying enough pressure but still being gentle. he's staring at your skin before his eyes fixate on those marks he left earlier.

"oh fuck, they're pretty bad" he giggles, and you roll off his lap with a groan, slapping your hand over your neck as if to hide them from him. your legs drape over his thighs and you can feel him looking at you.

you hide from him by sinking into the lounge for no good reason other than you think somehow it'll make the marks disappear, or manifest that it does.

"i didn't even bring makeup to cover it," you fake cry, seeing how bad it could make him feel, but he doesn't budge. matt slaps your thigh as if to say 'i'm not buying it' then rubs your legs soothingly.

"you're not covering them up. i won't let you leave the house if you do, no other option." matt is demanding but lighthearted in his words.

"oh no, i can't leave, what a shame," you dramatically flail your hand to your temple like an old school movie scene, and matt pokes your rib to get you to snap out of it.

"if you ever want to see my teeth again i'd watch the dramatics, honey" and those words coming from him alone make you cut the act, flushing red and sitting up properly.

you don't know how he's managed to whip you into line, usually being the other way around, but you're not risking it.

you've somehow taken more than you could ever ask for from him, and you're still anxious that you've bitten off more than you can chew. no pun intended.

regardless, you're in ignorant bliss. you'll take everything you can get from matt, and more, if he's willing to give it to you. which at this point, you're sure he is.

[moonstruckme]

oooooo can i request reader getting jealous about spencer having to seduce the cinderella killer in 10x6 but being in complete denial and rossi, derek, etc are all like mmmmhmmmm sure ok 👀😏

At long last!! Thanks for requesting and for weathering the wait baby <3

cw: mention of weapons/guns (also I know she drops her shears in the actual episode but shhh) 

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 704 words

“Keep sucking your teeth like that, you’re gonna need braces,” Morgan teases. 

You roll your eyes but stop. “That’s not how that happens,” you say. 

(You don’t actually know how it happens, but neither does Morgan. You know from photo evidence Penelope had somehow gotten her hands on that he’s been genetically perfect since he tucked-and-rolled out of the womb.)

Reid’s hair has grown long enough to tuck behind his ears again, and he does it now, looking every inch the nervous admirer as he advances slowly, almost dazedly, toward the girl. 

“May I?” he asks, voice breathy and expression wide open. 

The girl—your unsub—looks just as smitten. She walks towards him as if in a dream, and you really wish Spencer had his gun out. You know JJ is covering him with her finger on the trigger, and Spencer has a knack for getting out of scrapes, but now he’s kneeling before a girl who’s killed several men, bending his head down as he slips a shoe onto her foot, and she has a pair of shears in her hand that she was just about to use to slit another man’s throat. 

You’re scared for him. That’s what this is. This is fear, just like you’d have for anyone else on your team. 

“What’re you so sour about?” Rossi asks, his tone lilting with intrigue. He looks away from the scene, the three of you leaned against the SUV while you wait for Spencer to bring her in, and studies your face. “Is there something about Spencer’s performance you don’t like?” 

Trust him to chip in. You swear, he and Morgan have to be the worst busybodies in the department. You start to kiss your teeth again, but stop when you catch Morgan smirking. 

“I just didn’t realize he was such a good actor,” you reply. 

And it’s true. Spencer’s performance is kind of astounding. There’s an indomitable sincerity about him that shines through even now, in the gentle way he looks up at the girl when the shoe fits. It makes your chest tighten slightly, and then something foul and warmish curdles in your gut when he takes her hand and presses his lips to it. 

Spencer’s a kind soul. He’s got a sweet voice to go with his sweet face, and the unsub trusts it just like you would, dropping the shears and following him towards where the rest of your team waits. He’s not afraid to touch her, brushing a guiding hand along her back to help her into the SUV. To maintain the ruse, you know. Still, knowing doesn’t help the irritated prickle that goes over your skin. 

Wordlessly (though not without communication, if you count Morgan’s smug look and your answering glare), the three of you peel off from the van, getting into your vehicles to drive back to the police station.

Spencer shuts the door behind the unsub, and you expect him to get in the front seat to help keep her calm on the way to the station, but to your surprise he walks in your direction, getting into the passenger seat of the SUV you’re driving. 

“Hey,” he says casually, like this is something he does every day. And this is a regular part of your job, but it’s not every day one of you pretends to be blindly in love with a violent serial killer while she holds garden shears over your head. 

“Hey.” You give him a little smile, putting the van in drive. “Nice job. She looked really enchanted with you.”

“Thanks, I’m glad Hotch thought to bring the shoe to complete the fantasy.” Spencer brushes off the compliment easily, more than used to excelling. “It’ll be good for her to finally get the help she needs.” 

“Well, you were awesome.” You glance at him in the passenger seat, and he’s got his head propped on his elbow, looking out at the rolling hills and vast greenery of Montana. You look back to the road. “You make a great prince charming.” 

Spencer turns his face towards you. “Thanks,” he says again, this time with more feeling, and that sweetness is in his voice again. You like it best when it’s for you. 

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You: Chapter One

How to Unintentionally, Get An Endless To Marry You: After saving a strange man from a fishbowl cage, you earn yourself a favor. When you cash in said favor, you don’t realize that you and the man aren’t on the same page on what you need from him.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus x Afab!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Masterlist | Next

"So..." you drag out the word, not really knowing what to do now that you've gone all kamikaze on your employer and broken out the strange man locked up in the basement of Fawny Rig. "I didn’t expect to get this far in my plan and have absolutely no idea what to do now..." You look around, trying to figure out where you are. Certainly not in that damp old basement. Had something witchy happened when you shattered that glass prison? "And where are we?"

"You are within a dream," his voice is deep and rich, perfectly fitting his out-of-this-world beauty. Your eyes draw back to his face, and you are more than glad that he is now wearing clothes.

"A dream, gotcha... how did we get here?" An obsidian eyebrow rises, and his lips twitch. He finds amusement in your false bravado of nonchalance. He can feel how unnerved and stressed you are.

"Did he not tell you?" You make a face at the strange, beautiful man. "I am Dream of the Endless. Prince of Stories, Master of Dreams and Nightmares, and Lord of the Dreaming. You may call me Morpheus."

"Like the Sandman?" Why do all mortals call him that? Either way, Morpheus nods at you.

"You have freed me from my confines, Y/N. I owe you a great debt that you may call upon whenever you wish."

"A what? All I did was the right thing, no need for dramatics," you tell him. "You don’t owe me anything… though it would be nice if you could, like, zip me on over to my house? I don’t think I’ll be too welcome back at the manor, you know, kinda broke you out and everything..."

Morpheus tilts his head to the side at your rambles, surprised by your lack of greed and intrigued by your apparent belief that he owes you nothing for releasing him. Quite a peculiar mortal you are. Morpheus decides to observe your dreams more closely when he returns to his realm.

"You shall be returned to your home upon waking," Morpheus promises, observing the expression on your face. He had told you that you were in a dream.

"Okay, um, are you going to be okay? I mean, I don’t exactly know anything about being an Endless or whatever, but you were stuck in there for a while."

"You needn’t worry for me, Y/N." You open your mouth to argue, but how could you not worry when he looks so damn skinny and pale? Sand swirls around your head, and a cloud of sleepiness hits you.

"Uh, Mom, no, you don’t need to set me up with the son of your friend..." you trail off, massaging your forehead while hoping your mother finally gets the message that you don’t need her help finding love. Your love life is your own. Simple as that. They meddled enough in your youth to the point where you keep mum about most of your current life.

"But Y/N, he’s a banker, well off, and has a nice house! It’s even got a pool!" You pinch your forehead and tap your foot on the floor, counting to ten in your head so you don’t go off on your mother for trying to set you up for what has to be the thousandth time. "If you marry him, you’ll never have to worry about a single thing again! All your problems would be solved!"

"No, Mom, no." You repeat to her. "I don’t need you finding me a husband, okay! You’ve tried this a million times before and none of them have ended well! Besides! I’ve—I’ve—I’ve already gotten married!"

You have no idea where that came from because you most certainly have not gotten married. You haven’t even been in a relationship for at least three years! Not that your family or friends would know that, but that’s beside the point. You just told your mother you got married, and she will sink her teeth into that like a dog with a bone.

"MARRIED!?!" She practically screams over the phone. "You got married without telling me or your father!? Without inviting us!?" You hold your phone away from your ear as your mother calls for your father in distress, shrieking about your complete and utter betrayal.

"Honestly, this is why I keep to myself," you complain to yourself as she throws an absolute conniption to your father. There’s a lot of back and forth between your mother and father before your father takes over the phone call.

"So you got married..." He doesn’t sound upset, just tired. Most likely from your mother’s antics. You massage your temple.

"Uh, courthouse wedding?" you offer, knowing that your friends and family would buy that excuse. "I didn’t want any frou-frou or excitement, just a... civil ceremony. Didn’t even wear a fancy outfit. Just signed papers and was done with it." He grunts in acknowledgment. You take after him in that aspect.

"Well, your mother is demanding you come visit with your partner," he sighs out. You inwardly cringe. "And before you say you’re too busy, she already threatened to make plans to visit you, so you can’t escape this." Shit.

"She’s not relenting on this?" you ask, despite knowing the answer.

"No." Your shoulders droop.

"Okay, okay, tell her we’ll be up in like, a week." You relent with a heavy sigh. "I’ve got to—I've got to figure things out first, but… we’ll be up." Your father says his goodbyes, and ending the call, you stare at the wall across the room in horror.

You just told your mother that you were married.

You are, in fact, not married.

And you just promised to bring said spouse up to your parents' house in a week.

You have one week to find someone willing to be your spouse.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

There is no way you are going to drag your friends into this mess. No way. You don’t have the money to go and pay someone off to act as your spouse, and you wouldn’t feel comfortable bringing someone like that into your parents' home anyway. That leaves you with one other option that you are mulling over.

Morpheus. Deity, or Endless, whatever he had called himself. He surely has the time to help little ole you out for a weekend after you busted him from his cage. He did say that he owed you. You would consider this payment. But how exactly do you go about summoning an Endless?

"Okay, um, Morpheus?" you ask out loud, having no idea what you’re doing but figuring that if he is as all-powerful as he seems, he would probably hear you. "I think I’m ready to cash in that favor now, but I don’t really know how to contact you? So uh, yeah, if you can hear me I’d be grateful if we could talk soon. Like really soon."

You stand in your apartment for a few moments, not really knowing what else to do but waiting for something to happen. Nothing does. So you take a deep breath and head for bed. Only when you fall asleep that night, you find yourself standing in a place you have never visited before, or even remotely recognize. Disoriented, you spin in a circle of confusion until your eyes catch sight of a throne perched above winding stairs, and the very being you need to talk to sitting in said throne.

"Oh, okay, this works too," you murmur to yourself, still wondering where exactly you are. Morpheus regards you calmly, taking in your appearance fully for the first time since he regained his full power. You are such a... mortal. There is nothing special about you, but perhaps that is because Morpheus has only ever seen you in a state of stress. Yet you are the very reason his realm and dreams of the universe have returned to normal, and that makes him intrigued. He rises from his seat and slowly walks down the stairs.

"Hello," he greets, his voice a low timbre you find far more attractive than necessary. You blink at him and hold up a hand, giving him a small wave because what else are you going to do? Perhaps you should bow? Or curtsy? While you try to figure out what decorum is appropriate, the Endless comes to a stop in front of you. "You wished to speak with me? I will fulfill my debt to you. What is it you require?"

Right to the point. That helps you because he is unbearably gorgeous and you feel entirely inadequate in his presence. A few days shouldn’t be too hard, then you would never have to see him again. You could just tell your parents it didn’t work out and you got a divorce! Clearing your throat, you gaze up at the Endless with a nonchalant look.

"Please be my husband," you state boldly. For a few moments, silence stretches between you, and finding it uncomfortable, you speak again. "I need you to be my husband. My mother won’t stop harassing me about getting married, and I really need her off my back. She’s making me visit for the weekend, and I can’t show up without..." You trail off.

"A husband," Morpheus finishes for you, unblinking at your demand. It is a rather simple demand for the great debt he owes. Nonetheless, he will do so to his best ability. "Very well, I shall be your husband." The relief on your face catches the Endless off guard as the stress slips free from your facial features and you physically relax.

"Oh, thank you, thank you," you breathe out. "You have no idea what she is like, and I just need her off my back about this. She keeps trying to set me up with these mediocre guys I’ve never met before. She doesn’t understand that I don’t want or need her help in that... department..." While you trail off, Lucienne comes striding into the throne room.

"My lord, your presence is requested—" She pauses mid-sentence at the sight of you standing so intimately close to Morpheus. "I was not aware you had an audience, shall I return?"

"No," Morpheus replies, his eyes not once straying from yours. "We have finished our business." You tilt your head to the side, wondering what will happen now.

"So should I leave?" you ask, looking around in confusion. Wherever you are is positively beautiful! But you have no idea how you ended up there in the first place.

"That will not be necessary," he reassures you, "I am sure you are curious about this place. It is only right that you are shown our realm." You blink at his word choice, thinking he is referring to himself and the lady. "Matthew, will you please introduce Y/N to the realm?"

A raven pops up from behind Morpheus’ shoulder and cocks its head at you.

"Sure! Hi! I’m Matthew, Morpheus’ raven!" the bird chitters, much to your surprise. Then again, this is a dream! Dream of the Endless. You should probably try to figure out more about him.

"Uh, sounds good, lead the way," you say, following the talking raven out of the throne room while Morpheus and Lucienne have a stare-down you are not privy to. The moment you are out of earshot, Lucienne's eyebrow goes up.

"May I ask who that was, sir?"

"My wife," Morpheus answers simply.

"Your... wife," Lucienne repeats slowly, making sure she heard correctly. "And when did this happen?"

"Three minutes ago." Three minutes ago?? Lucienne is going to need to hear how exactly this came to be. Immediately.

"...and that’s Fiddler’s Green. He’s a major arcana and has some awesome views if I do say so myself!" Matthew finishes, puffing out his chest proudly. "The whole place got an upgrade since you broke Morpheus out of his fishbowl."

"It certainly has to be the most beautiful place I’ve ever been," you respond in agreement, your mind still reeling from the sights and beings you have seen on the tour. "I—I had no idea what would happen when I set him free, but seeing all this… I’m really glad I did."

"Yeah, don’t be surprised if you have random dreams and nightmares walking up to you to thank you," Matthew echoes, fluttering down from a nearby tree. "They’ve been watching their home disintegrate for over a hundred years, so you breaking the boss out is kinda a big deal to them."

"Is... that why they kept staring at me?" you ask, tilting your head to the side while remembering how you had been stared at in the village. It had just about given you a complex before Matthew guided you away from the town.

"Oh yeah, you’re kinda famous here..." the raven says before stilling and going silent. Clearly, something has distracted him because the bird hasn’t shut up since he started showing you around. You carefully watch as Matthew is silent for a few more moments before shaking his head and ruffling his wings. "Okay! The boss is inviting you for dinner… not entirely sure how that works in a dream… and wants me to bring you to some palace staff."

"Why bring me to the palace staff?" you question as the raven takes flight again.

"Cause he wants to impress you..." The moment Matthew mutters those words, the poor bird squawks midair in a ruffle of black feathers and nearly tumbles from the sky. You catch him before he hits the ground.

"What?"

"I mean he’s trying to introduce you to everyone and everything, ya know?" Matthew blurts out in a rush of words, still jilted by the blast of annoyance and ire he’d received from his lord very much intruding on his thoughts and sight. "Don’t you want to know what it’s like living in a palace? I’ve seen the baths and man if I had my body back..."

Ignoring whatever had ruffled Matthew’s feathers, you right him in your arms and lift him to your shoulder while you walk back towards the looming palace.

"I’m sure you could still enjoy a bath, Matthew," you reassure him. "Birds take baths, don’t they? Granted, not extravagant ones, but still..."

"My point is," Matthew begins, clutching your shoulder with his feet, "we’re trying to be good hosts and the palace staff want to make sure everything is perfect for you. Don’t ladies like being pampered?"

You look down at the clothes you are wearing in contemplation. Well, the raven has a point. Jeans and a t-shirt aren’t exactly worthy of Dream of the Endless, are they?

"Uh, I’ve never been pampered in a dream, but I suppose I could find out?" you offer. "I’d hate to dismiss the hospitality."

Date Published: 12/4/24

Last Edit: 12/4/24

Masterlist | Next

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

I can only share my interest in Aegon to you, so I’ll just drop this here. (Dw, contrary to what I say next, this is not a request. Just desperation.)

Broski, I NEED reader wife who’s scared of heights and dragons but Aegon gets her to ride with him just cuz he feels like it. (My hand is probably 1/3 smaller than one of their teeth. I believe Anyone sane should be scared sh’tless while seeing a dragon. 💀)

I ONLY READ ONE FIC WHERE THEY FLY ON A DRAGON! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY AEMOND FICS OF THISS??? HELP ME FIND MORE CUZ I NEED TO HAVE A RIDE ON A DRAGONNNNN. Imagine the refreshing air and scenery. (I personally imagine the beautiful pink/orange clouds from Httyd when Hiccup and Astrid fly together for the first time)😭⚰️

.

.

Also, about the death threats, you handled it well. Really, when everyone finds out you like a hated character, it’s like they are trying to get you to sign your own death sentence. Anyway, keep doing you. You write exceptionally 🤭🫶 ily

PROMISE NOT TO DROP ME? ONLY A FOOL WOULD DROP YOU. ( HOTD x Reader )

pairing: Prince Aegon ii Targaryen x Lady-in-waiting! Reader prompt: Aegon kidnaps you to ride on dragonback, it does not go well. word count: 1, 000+ words

You had been very very firm when it came to dragon's. You were no Targaryen nor held a drop of Valyrian blood in your veins. Sure, you like to gawk at them in art. The dozen paintings, stained glass windows, and books that filled the Red Keep were enough. You would never dare to go near one in real life. Dragon’s were not natural. To ride one, to tame one, it was not natural. A lot of the things that the Targaryen’s did were not natural. 

So when you started as Helaena's Lady-in-waiting, you did everything you could to politely refuse to be near them. Need to go to the Dragonpits? The carriage was nice and comfy, no need to leave it. When Helaena offered to fly with her? Suddenly you grew ill with a cough. Helaena accepted, understanding your fears. She offered kind words and an open invitation should you ever change your mind on the matter.

Aegon was, as always, different. The word 'no'  just could not connect in that tiny little brain of his. He took it as a challenge. He would jest about kidnapping you and taking you flying. You laughed and told him you'd push him out of a window if he dared to do it. 

Of course, he had tried once with a look a little too serious on his face. After waddling away, clutching his groin from your hard kick, he learned that it would not be easy to get you on dragonback. You’d fight back. You would be a challenge, he liked that a lot.

Kicking and screaming at the top of your lungs, you did everything you could think of to get free of Aegon's hold. Clawing at his arms wrapped around your waist, he dragged you along to the Dragonpits, the dragon keeper's onlooking in confusion and mild horror. You could give less of a shit if they thought you mad. There was no way in the Seven Hells that you were going on a flight with Aegon. You'd rather kiss the King's rotten lips than to go flying.

"No! Put me down, you drunken oaf!" You shout, thrashing against him.

"No."

"I am going to kick you so hard you'd never be able to get it up again, Aegon! Put me down!" You bellow, yanking at his hair.

"Not a chance, we are going flying." Aegon brushes off your threats, "You will enjoy it. Tis' delightful."

Letting out a loud scream into his ear, he did not falter, running off of pure spite and stubbornness. It would have been admirable, if it was not for the fact he was dragging you along to go flying. Yanking hard on his hair, he yelps loudly, though his grip does not falter. Gods damn it, why did he have to be strong? Sensing that fighting would not help you, you tried another way.

"Please, please, Aegon." You beg, "I'll give up my desserts for a whole moon. Just let me go."

"Tempting." He chuckles, a smirk on his face.

"Please, Aegon. I do not wish to fly." You beg, on the verge of tears.

"I fly all the time. Once I even did it drunk, tis' nothing dangerous." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

Shaking your head frantically as his grip tightens, he drags you into the dark cave, the stench of dragon thick in the air. The few torchlights in the cave illuminated enough to see his dragon, Sunfyre, burrowing into his rocky nest. Feeling tears of fear bubbling up, you go deadly silent, losing your voice. This was your worst dream come true. Face to face with a dragon. Holding back the whimper in your throat, Aegon presses a kiss onto your temple, refusing to let you go.

“He won’t harm you. He’s used to your scent.” Aegon whispers into your ear, “I brought him one of your dresses to smell.”

“Let me go.” You whimper out, voice full of pure terror. 

“Come on, you’re already here. Let’s just go for a quick flight.” Aegon argues, shaking his head dismissively. 

“Aegon..”

Slowly letting go of your waist, you go to bolt for the cave exit, only to be swept back up into Aegon’s arms. He carried you like a toddler who had a habit of running away. Letting out a loud cry as he refused to put you back down, he wags his finger mockingly, a half amused look on his face. Hearing Sunfyre stir in his nest, you try more desperately to get away, the rumbling of the dragon echoing loudly in the cave. 

“No, no, no.” He scolds, “Bad Y/n. No running away.”

“Put me down! I want to go back to the Red Keep!” 

“No, if I have to attend Court, then you cannot escape this.” He suggests, “Consider this your duty.”

“Fuck duty. Put me down, Aegon!” You sob, bottom lip wobbling. 

“Ooh, so now we do not care about duty, hm?” He mocks, shaking his head with a smirk.

Pressing a gentle kiss onto your temple, he carried you closer and closer to Sunfyre, until the two of you were right in the dragon’s face. Feeling your grip tighten on him, he slowly smiles at the feeling, like see you so unlike yourself. This had to be the first time he had seen you act so improper and anxious. It was refreshing, amazing, and amusing all at the same time. 

Smiling bright as Sunfyre stirs away, the golden dragon huffs at the two of you, his two large green eyes staring back. Puffing his chest out in pride, he hoped the sight of his dragon would impress you and make you swoon. His dragon always got compliments. Looking down at your face, there was not an ounce of admiration or awe or anything positive, only terror. 

“He’s pretty is he not?” He gloats proudly, “You know, they say he is the prettiest dragon to have ever been hatched.”

“If I survive this, I am going to kill you.” You whisper out, face pale.

“Stop speaking as if you are going to die. Sunfyre would not dare to attack, not whilst I am here.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve seen your dragon, can we leave now. I want to go back to the Red Keep, Aegon.” You whimper, tears bubbling up in your eyes.

"No. Don't you dare." He argues, "Don't you dare do the whole crying trick on me. I am not foolish like Helaena and can be swayed."

Watching as you sniffle and whimper, his grip tightens on you, not wanting to give up just yet. Seeing the big puppy dog eyes you give him, he grits his teeth, tensing up. He falter's for a moment. He was always sucker for those big puppy dog eyes of yours. You knew how to make him crumble.

"No, no, no, don't give me that look." He tries to resist.

"Please, Aegon."

"No. Stop that." He shakes his head, "Stop that right now. I demand you stop that."

"I..I want to go home, Aegon. Please, take me home." You beg, sniffling.

Letting out an exasperated groan at you begging and pleading to go home, he begrudgingly agrees to it, knowing that it would be no fun if you cried the entire time. Scowling like a child who had its toy taken away, he loosens his grip on you, putting you back down onto your feet. One day he’d get you on dragonback. Sadly, just not today.

"Aegon, please, I want to go home." You whimper, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

“Fine, fine, stop crying.” He grumbles, “But next time, we are going to actually get on the dragon.”

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

[r0-boat]

Gooner!Belphegor magic pocket pussy Drabble

Cw: masturbation, dubcon.

Gn!reader (Even if you don't have the parts the reader can still feel it ✨magically✨

His pupils dilated holding the toy in his hand. It wasn't just an ordinary toy. He had waited months for this magical toy from Tartaros.

A pocket pussy that syncs It's opening to match any person he chooses. With manual excruciatingly using the little bits DNA from strands of hair that fell from your pretty little head the last time you slept in his bed and other bothersome labor setting the damn thing up so it binds to you, It's finally ready.

"This toy better be far worth the hassle I had to endure," Belphegor mutter does he pressed his finger against the slit of the toy. He truly hopes You could feel his fingers working you open from wherever you are. He licks his lips His eyes fluttering clothes as he runs his tongue across the silicone lips.

Meanwhile, You were tagging along with not only Satan but the rest of the kings for a meeting.

"So sad that Belphegor can't attended today..." Asmodeus smirks giving Satan a wink who's flipping him off in response.

"Good riddance I say, if I had to hear One more meeting of snoring I would have closed off his throat." Leviathan mumbled.

You smile as you sit in your usual seat kicking your feet, Even though you had nothing to do with these meetings The Kings were still nice enough to have you join each one.

It was a day like any other.

Until...

A wet warm feeling caresses your core. You gasp as you swallow a moan. Lucifer's sharp eyes catches your sharp noise "Everything all right?"

" Y-yeah." Was all you could muster.

feeling that's sweet familiar taste of human arousal on his tongue he shutters "Haaa-haha This thing can even replicate your taste. Now I know it's working..."

"fuck... No more waiting... I need it!"

Lazily pushing his robes off on revealing his hard cock He strokes his shaft with one hand maneuvering his tip till it pushes against the opening as he works it open. "Fuck! Replicating your tightness too... This might be my new favorite toy." Belphegor mumbles forcing his cock deeper inside the toy.

You felt something hard and warm fill somewhere between your legs You didn't even have time to process where and how before this mysterious feeling begin to move in and out.

There was no mistaking what this feeling was. Which was deeply confusing since you were in the middle of a meeting and not being fucked by any of the kings present. The size, girth, and even the speed of the thrusts were familiar, but you couldn't place your finger on where you had felt this before. Given how fast thrusting motions began to speed up, it was so hard to think. Before you knew it, you clenched your teeth, trying so hard not to scream out in the middle of the six other kings in the room.

Your hand balling your twitching fingers into a fist trying to stop yourself from going underneath your pants.

His breath shook as he finally took his cock out of the toy His tip rubbing circles around The stretched silicone slit. "Hehehe, rest up while you can ma sweet lil' toy cuz I'm not done with you yet~"

He wonders what you're doing. He knows that there's a meeting going on right now. He wonders if you're there.

"I wonder... I wonder you like getting fucked by me in front of all the other demons that want you."

Belphegor cummed his messy hair falling in front of his eyes as he grinded his shaft against the lips of the toy. "betcha do horny slut!"

Even though you weren't there to write him or suck him off till his balls burst, The idea of fucking you anywhere he wished made his cock twitch and drool with precum.

Belphegor hummed getting his other hand to swipe at the precum drooling from his head. He takes his two fingers and slides them inside. "Ya feel that? That's what you do to me."

You finally mustered all your strength when the thrusts start to slow You slammed your fist down on the table catching everyone's attention their eyes wide at the sudden outburst "I'M GOING TO THE BATHROOM!"

Shit, you did not need to yell that loud... Now, everyone looked worried, But you didn't care because if you had stayed a second longer, you would have come right then and there in your pants. While, everyone was watching. You've never run so fast out of the meeting room.

Slamming and locking your door to your bedroom Your nails dig into the sheets trying so hard to hold back any noise as you brace yourself as the thrusting begin again.

Belphegor His eyes will back as he pounds it over and over into the flashlight as fast as he could go. He could feel the toy work it's magic tightening and pulsating just like how a cunt would; now your cunt. He could feel you cum with every tight squeeeeze.

If he thought fucking you was addicting then treating you like a fleshlight was like drugs.

As much as he wanted to use this toy for hours and hours on end. Which believe him he would.

Use it and overfill your new cunt, make feels so full when you're in fact empty. Maybe he would even fill it up to the brim and make sure it holds It aaall in So you could feel full all day.

As a demon known for breaking his toys He had to hold back. Which realization made him click his tongue. But it was true, He didn't know how much a human could take this toy was made intended for devils after all. So might as well finish inside it and store it away for later.

As much as he wanted to keeps stroking his hand was getting tired. In a last ditch effort to cum He shuffled in his bed his hair silk robes and sheet sticking to a sweaty body. He put the pocket pussy in between two pillows. As much as he hated the hassle of actually doing sex. He needed to have you feel him fuck you.

His unrestrained moans feel his bedroom as he drills his cock deeper with each thrust into the toy. Making sure he stoled his hips as deep as he could before exploding. Making sure He failed the toy to the brim.

He was nowhere near satisfied, And he knew he'll be returning to the toy again for right now, exhaustion hit him all at once. He placed his toy upright on the nightstand. He smiled, knowing that you'll feel all his cum deep inside for a while before drifting off to sleep.

[i9messi]

Hard to get — Oscar Piastri

You're a rookie, always determined to prove yourself on track, but Oscar is constantly underestimating you. He is annoying and has ben like this since you were fifteen.

word count — 2,6k

note: rivals to lovers. oscar is childish and annoying. warnings: misogynist comments made by a journalist. oh, and a car accident. i think i don't forget anything. feedback and reblogs are well appreciated.

MASTERLIST

“Why do you keep looking at him?”

Charles was standing beside you, your gaze didn't move away for a second from the certain driver who was a few meters away. Nothing but hatred in your eyes.

Charles loved to laugh at the fact you didn’t get along with Oscar. He thought it was a childish and stupid fight, where neither of you accepted you were being silly. The Ferrari driver was the one who tried to keep things cool, after all, Oscar was his adopted son and you were like his younger sister.

On the other hand, Lando just laughed and encouraged you to keep fighting.

“He’s looking at me!”

“And you’re looking at him, no need to complain.”

“I hate that stupid face and his stupid hair….”

Charles smiled even more.

“And his stupid voice… Oh, what more?” he added, jokingly.

“Charles, don't try to be on his side.”

“I'm not! This is a stupid fight and you should act like adults, not like kids.”

“Nevermind. Good luck in the race.”

You walked away and put on your helmet. The race was about to start. Starting behind Lando and alongside Carlos, you thought you were doing well in your first season as a rookie. But, bad things were, Oscar was behind you and you knew that could only mean something terrible.

Both were competitive since you had met, always fought for the lead and you didn't think this time would be different. Your relationship was reaching a point where you felt that at any moment everything would blow up.

And Oscar was the one to blame.

He must have noticed somehow that you were thinking of him, because he came to stand closer to you. To annoy you.

“Oh great, it’s you again.”

“I just wanted to wish you good luck.”

Your gaze kept on him, not believing for anything in the world that your greatest rival since you were fifteen really wished you good luck.

But Oscar didn't finish talking, because he smiled machiavelliously.

“...You’re obviously going to end up behind me. It must be a nice view from behind.”

“Me behind you? That’s funny. Last time I checked, you were two positions behind me.”

Oscar was mad, you could notice that for the way he was looking at you, with his teeth biting his lips. For a calm boy, he always showed all his emotions when he had a conversation with you.

“We’ll see how this race ends and if you really deserve your seat.”

“Go to hell, Oscar.”

Oscar smiled and touched your shoulder.

“See you later, princess.”

The race started moments later. Despite the pressure you had to give a good result for your team, you also enjoyed being able to drive the car at high speed. Nothing was like formula one, it was unique. You kept up a good pace and thought that if you fought hard enough, you could get to the podium. Oscar was behind you, but as Lewis was struggling for position and to overtake the aussie, he was busy with more important matters than bothering you. So for the moment, you were fine.

However, on lap nineteen, everything ended for you. You hit the wall on a curve.

“Damn! I’m sorry, guys.”

You were angry with yourself, with Oscar and everyone. You knew it was your fault, because that curve had been difficult for you in each lap and even though you practiced it dozens of times, a mistake had caused the car to move and you could not stop it before the impact.

“Are you all right?” they asked on the radio.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Mad as hell, but fine.”

You got out of the car and the medical staff took care of you to check that your injuries were minor. Once they finished, you locked yourself in your room to try to calm down. You were angry, sad that you failed the team and your ego was hurt.

You heard someone knocking the door, you opened to see the face of your PR manager.

“I know you don't want to talk with anyone, but you have some interviews to do.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

Much more calm than moments ago, you went to the area where a lot of journalists were waiting to ask what had happened in the race. Oscar was there and you saw his evil smile. He was probably happy about your crash, and you hated him for it.

“Hi.” you said to the first person you saw, a man in his forties.

“So how do you feel about your own mistake in the race?”

Some journalists were like sharks, waiting for a drop of blood to attack. A sign of weakness.

“It wasn’t the result we wanted and... I talked with the team and they know how sorry I am. I hope the next race result will be different.”

However, the man insisted.

“We can see that women don’t know how to drive properly after all.”

“Excuse me?”

He didn’t give you time to fight back and tell what you really thought, just kept talking as if the only thing that mattered was his own voice.

“Do you think your team will replace you? You’re not having the result they expected you to have in this season, there are rumors that Perez is gonna take your seat. I doubt you’ll keep the car for the rest of the season.”

You swallowed, stopped looking at the journalist and just turned your head to the side. His words had been like daggers in an unhealed wound.

“I have nothing to say. That's my team's decision.”

You passed to the next person, this time it was a woman who was patient and kind with you. Yet the words of the man kept on repeating in your head. Keeping the seat all season was a hard job, you knew how fast a team could get tired of a driver and how the dream could end in a matter of hours. You wanted to stay there, you wanted to prove what you were capable of.

The interviews ended and you kept your head low, staring at the ground. You walked away and did the worst thing you could have done at that time, you opened twitter. There were a lot of aggressive tweets against you, saying that you were a disappointment to women who wanted to earn a place in sports. But you didn’t want to be anyone’s model or inspiration, you just wanted to be yourself, doing a sport you loved since you were a kid. Why was it so difficult?

Locked in your room, you heard a knock on the door. Someone calling your name.

“It’s Oscar, please open.”

Oscar? What the hell was he doing there? Surely your nemesis wanted to make you feel even worse than you already were. If the press were like sharks, Oscar was a crow.

“Go away.”

"I want to talk with you."

He did not stop knocking the door. Exhausted, you opened the door and saw him. Still wearing his race clothes, his hair was messy and he looked at you as if he had seen you for the first time in those years that you knew each other.

Did he look at you with concern?

“Your tears kill me, I don’t like to see you cry.”

There was still a trace of tears in your face and the only person you didn't want to see them, actually saw them.

“You are an amazing driver and you deserve the seat more than anyone else in the world. No one has the right to make a mean comment about you.”

You wanted to fight, you wanted to get angry with someone. That someone was standing there in front of you.

“So, you think you're the only one who has the right to underestimate me?”

“That's not…”

“Since we met you’ve made my life miserable. You say bullshit about me. What the press and people said about me is more of the same. You’re no different from them.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

He avoided your eyes, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

“Just go, Oscar. I don’t need your pity.”

For the first time, he didn’t insist. He just left. Later that day you started thinking about what it meant for Oscar to come to talk with you.

Lando texted you, saying that the guys were going to the club. Just a few minutes later, Charles sent you almost an identical message, telling you that it wouldn’t be the same without your presence. As much as you were not in the mood, you accepted the invitation. Tomorrow you had a meeting with the team and you knew that that same night you would not be able to sleep. At least you’d have a few drinks and then go back to your room.

Charles came to pick you up at your hotel and together you went to the club, there you met a lot of familiar faces and among them, it was Oscar. None of you said a thing, but there was a strange vibe. The other drivers ignored the situation, and if they felt the tension, they acted as if they had not.

“Let’s dance.” Lando grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor.

You looked at Charles for help but he just smiled at you.

“Go!”

Lando danced with you, but you felt a glance on you. It was Oscar, who drank a glass of something and kept his eyes on you.

“I don’t know what happened between you two but you should talk.” Your friend said in your ear, as you kept your gaze on Oscar.

“I don’t want to talk to him, he’s despicable.”

“But he’s constantly in your head.”

“That’s not true,” you tried to argue, but you knew that was true. Oscar was always in your thoughts, living rent free in your mind. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him.”

“If you fight, remember to talk loudly so I can record you on my phone!”

“Stupid.”

Lando laughed.

After what happened today, you thought you would try to be the adult in the relationship (even though there was no real relationship) and try to at least have a mature conversation with Oscar. You approached him, who was sitting next to Charles and Carlos.

“Oscar, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

That was different. Oscar always said something annoying but not now.

You led him out of the club, until both ended up sitting in his car.

“Do you want to go talk to my hotel?” he suggested, not really knowing where to go. You didn’t want the cameras and people taking pictures of you together, because everything could be misunderstood.

“Uhm— sure.”

Oscar drove carefully until you ended up at the hotel where McLaren was staying. The way to his room was a bit awkward, where maybe you expected him to say something but he didn’t. Oscar stood silent.

Already in the room, you sat on the bed and he stood still two meters away.

“I know you hate me because I’m a woman in sports and you think women don’t deserve a place.”

“That’s bullshit. I don’t think that. Women deserve to be in sports as well as men.”

You raised an eyebrow, confusion showing in your face.

“And why do you hate me so much?”

It was a question you wanted to ask him since the first time you met, that day when he told you that you didn’t deserve to be there and that you would surely cry on the first lap.

“Because— are you sure you already don’t know? It’s pretty obvious.”

“What is obvious?”

Oscar finally spoke, his cute eyes kept looking anywhere but you.

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was fifteen. At first, I thought it was because you were beautiful and you were the coolest kid around but I know it’s deeper than that. I kept thinking you would never notice me and I was trying so hard to catch your attention, so I guess I did what I had to do.”

“So you tried to catch my attention, making me hate you?”

He looked at the floor, avoiding your gaze, ashamed to acknowledge that he had acted in that way.

“It sounds stupid but it was the only thing that came to me at fifteen. When time passed, I couldn't suddenly say that I didn't hate you anymore and no longer wanted to fight with you. It was funny to fight before a race, knowing that it would make you go crazy and say horrible things to me. I liked to think that I drove you crazy.”

You thought about it, until you just said what you thought.

“You’re an asshole, Oscar.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

There was a rare silence, finally his eyes met yours. After so many fights, so many years in which the only things that came out of your mouths were negative aspects from each other, for the first time you were trying not to be bad with him.

“Oscar…”

“Yes?”

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was seventeen. No one knows.”

Oscar’s face looked surprised, a smile coming out of his lips.

“It took two years? See, I’m still faster than you in every aspect.”

He smiled and you smiled, a joke that was offensive and harmless at the same time. Now you understood everything, Oscar was never like a polite cat with you like was with others, he was aggressive and childish. And it was all because he had feelings for you.

“We’re two idiots.”

“We are.”

It was the first time he agreed with you, after all.

You stood and walked a few steps in his direction, Oscar kept in his place. There was a lot of tension in the room, but something had calmed down after both confessed your secrets.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said to you in an almost imperceptible murmur. “and so hard to get.”

“Do you still think I’m the coolest kid around?”

He smiled. “You are, you always were.”

His lips were really close to yours, hoping for a kiss you didn’t know what it could mean. Not when you had spent years hating each other. There was anticipation, there were lots of mixed feelings.

“Do you still hate me?” he asked, as he drew his hand to your cheek.

“I do, that never changes.”

Your lips barely touched when you heard someone knocking the door.

“GUYS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? PLEASE DON’T KILL EACH OTHER.”

It was Lando and with him was Charles, screaming as loud as they could. Both accents made the situation funny as hell and also the fact you weren't trying to harm yourselves, you were two seconds away from kissing.

“OSCAR, DON’T DO ANYTHING TO MY FRIEND!”

Before they did anything crazy, or called security, you and Oscar got away and opened the door. Lando looked at you suspiciously.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

Charles kept his gaze on Oscar, also with a suspicious face.

“Why are you blushing?*

“We were fighting.” He said, not admitting the truth.

“Yeah, and I was winning.”

Oscar stopped looking at Lando, to only focus on you.

“That’s not true, I was winning. You’re dumb, you can’t win.”

“Oh, Oscar shut the fuc…”

“Calm, calm, calm down.” Charles grabbed you by the arm and pushed you to his side as he pulled you out of Oscar’s room.

When you turned around, you saw that Oscar gave you a smile. A sincere smile, something you had rarely seen. Hell, you were crazy for him.

[lovifie]

Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)

Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷

It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷

Smut | 1818 words | Back to Masterlist

W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.

You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.

So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.

You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.

There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.

You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.

“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.

The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.

Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.

The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.

Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.

With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.

What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.

The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.

A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.

You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.

You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.

“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”

“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”

He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”

“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.

The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”

“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.

He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.

“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.

You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.

Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.

You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.

“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.

He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.

Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.

He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.

It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.

His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.

He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.

He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.

It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.

His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.

You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.

You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.

Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.

You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.

“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.

“What?” You ask confused.

“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.

And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.

But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.

[luveline]

you asked for marauders so how about rockstar!sirius? i love a good reunion fic

He’s sitting at the back of a dimly lit restaurant with friends. One you recognise, Remus, but the rest you’re unsure of. Sirius has the remarkable ability to make friends in every city of every country and in each continent; you can’t possibly keep track of them all. You can barely keep track of him, though he tries his best to tell you. 

Going to a restaurant tonight called The Lucky Rabbit for dinner, Remus says they have rocky road? Seems a bit shit. Love you, see you in sixteen days 

You get a message in similar fashion each night, the days until you’ll see one another counting steadily down. There are days where you don’t get much more than that, he’s got a hate-hate relationship with his phone, and while you don’t blame him, you miss him. 

He calls you most mornings, at least. Yesterday’s had been particularly sweet, because Sirius was sweet, and he doesn’t tend to be, not when you’re out of arms reach. 

“I wish I could see you,” he’d said, something muffled about his voice as though he’d been speaking with his lips to his pillow, “wish you were here. I don’t know… I miss you a lot. I didn’t expect it to feel like this.” 

It used to be terrifying when he’d say stuff like that. Your famous boyfriend, confessing affection down the line to a total loser with nothing to give him. Now it just makes you want to kiss it better. 

You text Remus quickly to ensure that it’s a good time. Hi, I’m at the door. 

He pulls out his phone and grins. I won’t look in case I give you away. Do you need me to take some of the boys? 

That would be nice, but, Maybe you can drag him out for a cig? you text. I’ll wait in the smokers area? 

No problem

You rush for smokers' hutch and sit alone on a bench under a fabric covering. It’s the evening, shoes shiny in the dark, the winter cold nipping your fingers as you cross your arms around yourself. 

“Sorry,” you hear Sirius say, far away, getting closer, “I’m not trying to be a dick.” 

“You’ve never had to try very hard.” 

“Funny. Can I have one of those before I go blind?”

“You can’t be that desperate,” Remus laughs. 

“I can’t have what I’m actually craving,” Sirius says, a twist of feigned drama, just the tiniest smidge of genuineness somewhere threaded within as they make their way onto the veranda. “I didn’t know you could miss somebody like this.” 

It’s really sweet, and you’re usually more awkward, but for once you get it right. “Welcome to my world,” you say. No malice nor snark, you don’t have it in you when you’re with him, but certainly some irony. 

Sirius turns his head fast enough to make you wince. 

“I miss you like that every week,” you further. 

“No way?” He grins at you, fully grins at you, the goofy kind he’d normally only share with you when you’re in bed together and he’s forgotten to hide it. “Aw, baby, no way.” 

You’re swept up before you know it. He practically collapses into you, squeezing you, apologies whispered frantically into your ear as he stands and drags you with him. You hardly remember to stand, feeling at the slope of his back and the starched fabric of his jacket, assuring yourself that he’s really in your arms as you hug. 

“No way,” he says a third time, “what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would’ve picked you up.” Your spine creaks under his squeezing. 

He leans back. You follow him, not willing to part just yet. “I told Remus,” you explain. 

“Bastard.” 

“Should I go back in?” Remus asks. 

You’d say yes, because you’re not overly fond of being seen in love, but Sirius doesn’t answer, and then neither of you can as he takes your face into two hands to kiss you grandly. His smile is a rigid line against your lips, so wide you can feel his teeth as he struggles to keep a plain expression and kiss you as he wants to. Your back sags in relief. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, pulling away abruptly, “you must be so tired. Are you hungry?” His hands fall softly down your face to your shoulders. “Thank you for coming.” 

You startle. “You’re welcome, it’s– it was selfish, not totally for you, I missed you too much to wait two more weeks.” 

“Two weeks and two days,” he says. 

“That’s contrary,” you tease lightly. 

“No, the two days makes a fucking difference.” Sirius puts his arm behind your shoulder and turns you to Remus, almost like he’s showing you off. He opens his mouth to speak, but he loses the words, dropping his face to give you a kiss tight to your chin. 

It tickles. When you laugh, he does it again.

“Fuck, I’m glad you’re here. I was starting to lose it.”

“You could’ve asked me to come,” you say, beginning to trudge in time with him toward the restaurant doors. 

“Will you come with me for a bit?” he asks. 

Will you follow your lovely boyfriend for a bit on his nice tour eating good food and watching him at his best from the side stage? You tip your head to the side to ask for another ticklish kiss, which is enough answer for him. 

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

You are not poison here (and you never really were)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.6k

genre: fluff, comfort for the hurt

warnings: slytherin reader, quidditch player reader, bestie peter is back, good feels all around

a/n: the promised happy ending of Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?)

You're already in the Great Hall when they come down for breakfast, Peter chatting animatedly with them while Sirius sulks behind, his hands shoved in his pockets. James and Remus don't have to think about slowing their pace to match his - it's second nature, at this point, to be so in sync.

James stutters to a stop in the entryway though, Peter slamming into him and making some quip about James needing to turn his break lights on if he's going to keep doing that. James isn't really listening to him, though, his eyes trained on where you're sitting at the Slytherin table, shoving Evan Rosier lovingly while he laughs.

"Oh," Peter says when he follows James's gaze. "That's nice, isn't it?" Remus smiles and bumps his shoulder against Pete's. Even Sirius looks towards you, leaning slightly as if he's being pulled in your direction. James puts his hand on Sirius's shoulder gently, slowly, walking with him to the Gryffindor table.

"Maybe they'll come and join us, yea?" He says gently, but he recognizes the long-suffering look in Sirius's eyes. You're getting better. You're getting better but it's not with them. It's not with him. Maybe the only thing you needed was to be somewhere he's not.

Sirius, thankfully, doesn't get much further than that, his spiralling making his legs heavy as he sits down with the others, Peter on his left while James and Remus sit across from them. Peter slides a plate towards him and Sirius wishes desperately that he was a better person.

You're standing up from your table as they sit down, though, clapping Evan on the back as you leave. Sirius finds himself holding his breath as you slide into the seat next to him, ruffling Peter's hair on your way past and letting a small smile grace your lips as he grumbles and smoothes through the mussed strands with his fingers. Sirius thinks maybe if he doesn't move, maybe if he doesn't breathe, you won't notice him - won't notice the damage he does to himself and others, the poison that leaches from him and spills out.

But you just smile at him, a tentative, unpracticed sort of thing, and he exhales deeply and lets his shoulders drop while you turn to greet the others as well. Your leg brushes Sirius's under the table and someone cracks a joke he half hears and he thinks maybe there's something other than venom running through his veins - maybe there has to be for him to have something as good as this.

"Rosie thinks he and I should get some extra practice in before the first game of the season - you know, just to make sure we beat Gryffindor again." Your voice doesn't have quite it's usual haughty, teasing lilt, but getting closer, and James lets out an unflattering sound of betrayal at your words.

"Again?" He says indignantly. "We've beat you lot our fair share of times, alright? And besides, you two cheat." He says it loudly enough that your fellow beater can hear from the Slytherin table, Evan turning to glare at James while you huff out an almost laugh. The sound is enough to make them all soften, Remus smiling at you gently as Sirius stares. Maybe, he thinks, there is hope in me after all.

The steps are slow, after that, but they are steps nonetheless. Another small smile, another quiet laugh - another bit of weight lifted off James's lungs, another whisper of insecurity silenced in Remus's mind. The two of them are lounging in the common room, Remus trying desperately to finish his essay while James talks about god knows what, when you and Sirius come in. He's got a scowl on his face, stomping across the floor as you clamber in after him, talking desperately. 

"You are so wrong about this, Sirius," you say breathlessly, willing yourself to keep up with his long strides as he marches up the stairs to his dorm. "This is a bad idea - You know it is. No, don't look at me like that, just listen -"

The sound trails off as you disappear up the winding staircase and James, now silent, looks at Remus with a pout. Remus just smiles quietly in response - they both know what this is about. 

Sirius comes back downstairs with his arms full of records, thumping the stack down on one of the common room tables and sorting through them. You stand opposite him, arms crossed and nose turned up.

"This party is going to suck because you have horrible taste in music -" Sirius makes a wounded sport of noise at your accusation and places a hand over his heart.

"Horrible taste? That's not what you said when we were in Moony's bed the other -"

"Alright!" You announce. Remus has looked up at the two of you with mild amusement and James doesn't even attempt to hide his laugh. "Not always. But this time, you do - this time, it's music for the first Gryffindor party of the new school year. Is this what you want everyone to remember from it?" You pick up a record, making a bemused face that they all know is just for show. "Your weird music?"

"Snakes don't get opinions on Gryffindor parties, doll," he says as he snatches it back from you. "And just because you insist on playing the Bee Gees at every Slytherin party doesn't mean we have to follow suit."

"Do not say anything about the Bee Gees. I swear to god, I'll…" You watch him sort another record into the yes pile and your mouth drops open. "Anyway, we're together. Your reputation is my reputation. James faceplanted off his broom last week and people have been doubting my quidditch skills ever since."

"Not to mention doubting our taste in partners after seeing it," Remus adds. You smile triumphantly as James slides off the couch and onto the floor dramatically, burying his face into a pillow. Your joy is interrupted, however, by Sirius apparently being finished with his sorting, hauling the no pile into his arms and moving to bring them back upstairs. You make an indignant, panicked noise as you snatch a record off the table and chase after, him, stepping over James so that you can clamber over the back of the couch.

"No, I'm serious -"

"No, I am." Sirius doesn't break stride as he begins up the staircase again.

"I'm just saying - Waterloo? Really? Because Angel Eyes is such a good song and it's obviously better and - what? Don't look at me like that. I mean, if you're going to play ABBA, you might as well play a good one and -" Your voice trails off up the stairs again while James peaks out from under his pillow.

"Come back up here, love." Remus pats the space next to him on the couch, his eyes still focused on his essay. James spends a great deal of time grumbling and whining about the humiliation of it all, insisting that his fall in that quidditch game wasn't even that bad. By the time he's climbing into his lap, disrupting Remus from his studying as he plants himself firmly in the boy's field of vision, you and Sirius are coming back downstairs.

You sit on the other end of the couch, your pout prominent as Sirius dips down to press a kiss to your cheek, one hand raking through his now disheveled hair.

"You forgot to fix your tie after," James says cheerily, his face smushed against Remus's neck.

"You're one to talk," you grumble, reaching up to fix your tie, nonetheless. You don't get very far, though, as Sirius plants himself next to you, rearranging you so that your legs are thrown over his lap before he bats your hands away. 

"We're all finished with classes for the day, lovely, you might as well take it off," he says as he loosens your tie until the knot comes undone, throwing it over one of his shoulders, instead. His one tie is nowhere to be found, the collar of his shirt hanging comfortably with the first two buttons popped open.

"Careful, Sirius." You poke at his cheek and he snaps his teeth at your finger playfully. "Someone might think you're in the wrong house if you go around with those colours on display. They might get the wrong idea about you."

"Well," he sighs, throwing his arm across the back of the couch so that he can smooth a hand over Remus's hair before settling his fingers at the base of his neck. "Your reputation is my reputation, pretty thing. It's probably a little too late to worry about people thinking the wrong things."

He grins as he says it, a pretty sort of look flashing across his face that has you leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek before you let your forehead rest against his shoulder. He smooths the hand that isn't preoccupied with Remus's hair down your back and James reaches forward to trace idle shapes over Sirius's thigh.

There's a silence that overtakes you all then, a comfort that blankets you as you quiet down. Remus, his hand rubbing up and down James's back as he leans his head into Sirius's touch - his hands helping, his soul healing. James, pressed as much as he can against the people he loves - the desperation to make it all right quelled by the love that sits so prominently in his chest.

And then there's Sirius, safe and whole and pressing a kiss to your forehead while you relax against him. There's a peace that overtakes the two of you, something kind and gentle that feels a lot like hope. A stability feels a lot like love.

[sleeepybeary]

☆ 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 ☆

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓: Babysitting your brother's daughter, Agatha can't help but find herself biting her as a warning for the secrets told.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: biting (gentle bites)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 820

It wasn't often that you heard from your family, even less so from your brother. However, with your brother's upcoming travel to the town just over and a babysitter cancelling, you were dumped with the responsibility of babysitting instead, unfortunately.

So, kneeling down on the floor of your house with a small smile spreading across your face, you coo with a gentle tone of voice.

“Look at you, being so smart” you had commented, watching with a tamed unamusement as the baby had picked up the small horse statue carved from pine wood. Her small fingers wrapped around the throat of the animal, hands not developed enough for form a tight squeeze, but strong enough to hold in a soft clasp.

“Talking to the imaginary friend again?” Agatha’s voice rang out from behind you as she stood, balancing most of her weight upon her right leg, arms crossed and her hair messily thrown up in some excuse of a “fashionable” style.

“I beg your pardon?” You let out a choke of disbelief, your eyes narrowing as you glance at the woman who can only stare back with a daring smirk. “I'm not talking to an imaginary friend, I'll have you know”

“Then who is of our company?”

You flick your head slightly, motioning for her to step closer as your fingers wrap around the underarms of the infant. “Look at me!” You speak through a tightening tone, a smile threatening to break way. “I'm a baby, I need your attention!”

“Ahh…” Agatha clicks her tongue, kneeling down slightly as her hands remain almost limp beside her. “You're babysitting today… that totally slipped my mind”

“Yeah, well, no one else was available” you pause, letting your fingers slowly slip from the smaller girl's arms. “Besides, this may put you on good terms with my family too”

Laughing dryly, Agatha almost slaps your shoulder, “we're already on semi-decent terms. I fret to think they'll find out I'm a witch someday, though. That's when I'll need those accommodations”

You tch, eyeing your girlfriend slightly. “They'd probably disown me before I could ever breathe your name again”

“Or sell us out for ransom”

“That's not very nice, Agatha” you warn, your eyes going almost lazy as you throw her an odd look.

Though, despite your slight defence in protecting your family's name, in the lime light, what Agatha was speaking of was certainly of a possibility - one you'd wish to avoid.

So, in turn, telling your parents of your girlfriend's stance in witchcraft was out of the picture. For now, at least.

“You didn't hear anything, okay, little one?” Agatha had ignored your look, turning to hold the tinier humans' hands, watching the way her young fingers wrapped around the length of just one of her fingers. “If you did, and you tell anyone, we're gonna have a real serious problem”

“She's three, Agatha. She can barely even say Mama and Dada.” You laugh teasingly at her seriousness, noting the way her eyes crinkle at the edges from the narrowing of her eyes.

“At the age of three, I was already running around, causing my ‘Mama’ some awfully inconvenient hassle” she grins, blue eyes shining in a haze of mischief. “Stealing food, drawing on the walls, biting the furniture once my first tooth came in-”

“A real devil in disguise”

“Exactly” she chuckles, leaning down till her face was just a rulers length away from the infants face. “Do you know what we do to snitches?”

“Agatha…” you groan slightly, having gained the exact same treatment during the first night of finding out about her supernatural abilities.

She waits, watching as the baby lets out a small squeal, smiling at her impaired ability to yet talk. “We eat them all up like this-”

You observe the way Agatha brings the infants' hand to her mouth, her teeth gently sinking into the vulnerable of her flesh just enough to leave a small indentation.

Your lips purse slightly, watching at the way Agatha lets out small “nom nom” sounds to the slow rhythm of which she scatters the smaller hand in gentle bites - never going far enough to actually hurt her - but enough to leave her confused.

“If this were anyone else, I'd almost be jealous” you tut, shaking your head.

“Oh? Do you want to be bitten, too?” Agatha looks to you, smirking slightly as she takes your hand in her own.

You laugh lightly, scrunching your nose as you pull your hand back. “No… I think I'm okay for now”

Agatha can only let out a gentle hum, licking her drying lips slightly as she adjusts her… your T-shirt as it hangs loosely upon her shoulders and around her throat. “You know where to find me if you ever change your mind”

“In my house…? In my clothes…?”

“Exactly” Agatha lets out a simple laugh, her eyes closing as her head tilts back slightly. “And don't you forget it”

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship-coded. sappy. first kiss. isekai elements referenced if you pay attention. aged-up characters to early 20s. reader is part of the corps however not from time period nor country. love triangle.

Tanjiro is exactly where you expect him to be when you find yourself unable to turn in for the night, slipping your feet into tabi slippers, and finding the courtyard where he trains.

You’re no longer at the Ubuyashiki Estate these days but at the Butterfly Mansion, a welcome reprise from the rest of the Hashira with the subset of your comrades you’re most comfortable with - your best friends, in the same predicament as you, slumber in their own respective bedrooms. You can imagine that one has slipped into the room with Genya at some point in the night, and the other is probably asleep, her own gentleman (gentle really only with her and perhaps his pet beetle) caller having sent word that he’d be visiting in the morning. The Butterfly Mansion is truly a beautiful, restful place compared to the bustle of the estate but your heart has been aflutter ever since you came here.

You hate to admit it, but Kanao gets under your skin. 

For a moment, as from afar you watch Tanjiro practice his strike for what may very well be the thousandth time that night, you stand transfixed, wondering if it is worth it to break his concentration to tell him what’s been on your mind. After all, perhaps all this for him it’s something silly and inconsequential, something you’ve only built up in your mind. The draw to him may not be something real even, and even if it were, you are not destined to stay in this land or even this time period.

Whether or not you like him doesn’t matter. Whether or not you love him is moot. You can’t stay. Knowing how he feels about the situation will not serve to clear the muddy waters, plus you have never been one to draw unnecessary love triangles, anyway. 

Before you can let your own misgivings overtake you and turn tail, Tanjiro spots you from afar.

He calls your name loudly, one last strike before his sword is sheathed, and set by the trunk of the nearest cherry blossom tree. He’s fast, and before you know it, he’s by you, grinning widely as he does when he’s excited, despite the exhaustion evident in the very marrow of his bones, communicated by the sheen of sweat overlying tense, overworked muscles. 

“You’re up,” he says, and you try to come up with the best way to organize your thoughts. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, carefully. He’s moving back to where he’s left his sword, but this time he’s taken your hand gently, pulling you along as one does a small child. He has the tendency to do this, reach out to you without considering it first, still unable to understand the effect his touch has on you. He hasn’t picked up on the fact that you let only him and your closest friends touch you casually, and you wonder how he would take it if he realized.

Has he realized yet how special he is to you? 

Your mouth opens then closes as he unsheathes his sword again, and puts himself back in stance, throwing a glance at you to make sure you’re out of striking distance.

“Is it okay if I keep going? I assume you want to talk, but I’m not done. I can still listen, though.”

You nod then look around. Part of you is surprised Kanao isn’t out here, watching him with loving steady eyes, a mind that is as unreadable as her feelings are obvious. You can’t tell if she sees you as a threat or not, or if she sees you at all. But she’s nice. And you are nice. 

That’s all you are to each other and this arrangement is what you wish it could remain. 

Regardless, Aoi’s words have unsettled you.

I know how you feel and I’ve felt that way, but Kanao needs him.

Just thinking about how she practically accosted you, while well-meaning, terribly abrasive, you can feel your teeth clench. 

You haven’t done anything wrong except be yourself. You don’t know how to control the fact that he gravitates towards you. You haven’t tried to seduce him; you understand the roles of girl code, that she was there first, that she loved him first, that she was by his side when he was comatose, when he was fighting, when he was becoming what he is now, and you have no right and yet-

“Talk to me.” 

Tanjiro pauses, and he’s looking at you again, eyes washing over you in the moonlight as though they’re looking for any pain he can assuage. It hurts how he can care about you so deeply, like the most attentive of lovers, when all you’re fated for is a short-lived friendship. You have to remind yourself constantly that he does this for everyone, he loves everyone this tenderly, and thus let your heart stop racing, but there’s not much you can do when all you can think of is the way your lips met just days ago.

It wasn’t a kiss. Kisses are for people who love each other. Kisses are for him and Kanao. He is not for you, nothing is for you, everything is for Kanao.

“Kanao is in love with you,” you blurt out, and immediately regret it.

You can see his body tense, and then he breathes out slowly. You watch him move, and you can feel the night chill suddenly intensify, your arms wrapping around yourself for warmth but for comfort. Your body is trembling. Why did you say that? Everyone knows. It’s not a secret that they’ve been fated for each other for the past several years, long before you tumbled into this world that doesn’t in any way belong to you.

“I know.”

Heat rushes through your body. It’s the worst answer he could have possibly given you, polite and patronizing at once. He’s watching you carefully now, eyes matching your gaze, his hands running through his hair.

“I’m glad you know,” you finally convince yourself to say, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. Heartstrings taut to snapping, you try desperately to come up with a way to change the subject. You don’t care to hear about how easily he returns her feelings or any other part of their love story, whatever you’re not privy to.

“We’re supposed to head out in a couple of days, maybe you shouldn’t tire yourself out like this.” you offer. You turn your head from him, your hand on the tree trunk before you, pretending that the ridges of the bark are of particular interest to you now, although it’s mainly to catch a few errant tears threatening to escape your lash line. “When do you sleep?”

“__.”

He calls your name again, softer this time. Your heart sinks into your stomach. You can’t discuss this anymore.

“The soup Kanzaki-san made today was quite delicious, don’t you think? I have to ask for the recipe.”

There is a pause that is far too loud, and you’re now frozen stiff, holding back tears. You know he will not let you move on, but the idea of rejection in the middle of the night is just too much for you to bear.

Lovesick. Truly lovesick you are at this venture in time, and the fantasy has to last just a little bit longer. It’s all you have going for you in this awful situation, the dream that even if you’re trapped here slaying monsters for an indeterminate length of time, away from family and the technology you took for granted, perhaps he can smile and warm you like the sun. 

“I think Inosuke may have said my name right today, Tanjiro, isn’t that so funny?!”

You laugh, but it’s coming out disingenuous, a sound not unlike a barking sick cough.

“___,” he says again, his voice even softer now, pleading with you to manage your own font of emotions. 

It’s too much. 

You turn quickly and whisper something about being tired and needing to leave, and the moment you walk past him, he grips your wrist again, stopping you in your tracks.

Your heart thumps.

“I don’t love her.”

Your head shakes automatically even if it’s what you wanted so desperately to hear. “I think you should,” you say in the smallest of whispers.

Your hand pulls but Tanjiro doesn’t let go, instead stepping around to face you. Your head is turned downwards but gently, he takes your chin and raises it up to his face. You look away, but you’re biting your lip and the tears are starting to well up again. Your heart is racing out of control.

This isn’t what you want, but it is. You must still be dreaming, never having left the security of your bed. 

“Why are you crying?” 

Concern dripping in his voice, he’s thumbing away tears that you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“I…” you trail off. There’s no excuse, really.

“What do you want me to tell you, __?” Tanjiro asks. It’s a harsh question but it’s said with firm kindness; the gentle glow in his crimson eyes are patient still.

That you love me as much as I do you, you think, then dispel. Preposterous.

“I’m not sure,” you lie. He frowns, the immediately detected deceit disappointing him. He lets go of your chin, then takes both of your hands in his. Your stomach turns as he raises them to his lips.

“Kanao is important to me-” he starts. You wince and pull away, but he holds on tighter, “but you too are important. Very much so.”

“She loves you-” you start, and he quickly rebuts, “I love you.”

And this stuns you to silence.

“You…”

“Yes, you.”

A sharp inhale as your body recovers from sobs racks your body. Tanjiro pulls your knuckles to his lips and kisses, and you find your breathing erratic again.

“Tanjiro,” you start, and he pulls your face closer.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time,” he says, and the adoration in his eyes makes it so clearly true, sparkling in the moonlight. Your mind’s eye spins memories like films, every time he’s been too close, every time he’s been too careful, every time he’s wanted to be with you above everyone else.

“Are you sure?” you ask. It’s the lamest of things that you can ask but you have to hear it from him, the man who loves everything and everyone, that would choose anything before himself. 

“As sure as my blade.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that dizzies you before you can find his last statement cheesy. When the haze clears, you think of Aoi again, you see Kanao in your mind’s eye watching Tanjiro, butterflies in her hair.

“What about Kanao? She needs you.”

“I need you.”

He kisses you again, and this time you’ve lost all your reservations, perhaps too easily, your arms reaching around his neck to deepen the kiss.  You’ve never needed to tell him you loved him because it was written all over your face. It’s a part you’ve hated about yourself, that no matter how badly you’ve tried to limit your emotions, all comes spilling out through your words and actions. He might have known before you even did, your penchant for devotion spilling into every word you spoke to him, smiles you couldn’t quite temper.

Your friends saw it, Aoi saw it, Kanao saw it, the heavens above must have seen it.

Most importantly, he saw it. 

The tears remain free-flowing, now cathartic. You breathe in his love as he continues to kiss you, your lips, your neck craned, your back now supported by the tree that knows your poorly-kept secret.

“Tanjiro, I love you,” you admit finally, your noses just inches apart, breathless.

“I know,” he whispers. He smiles and kisses your neck. “And I’m so glad.”