#until then. it's Hiding In The Corner time.

[gf2bellamy]

hiii!

i was wondering if you could write spencer x reader, where she’s having a really bad day but spencer is coming home from a case and is exhausted, mentally and physically so she feels guilty that she would bother him with her mood

So she just hides away and is on the verge of a panic attack and spencer finds her and is all “you save me, so pls let me save you” and just comforts her (and calls her angel because 🫠)

thankyouuu so much (you dont have to do it if you dont want! no pressure at all!) i love your writing, it’s so incredibly cute and endearing <3

exhaustion — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader crying a lot , reader feeling guilty / tired / exhausted, spencer calls reader angel a/n: hii thank you so much for your request !! i hope you like this <3

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. You sat on the couch, curled up in one corner, staring blankly at the empty space in front of you. The TV was off, the big overhead light was off, and the only light came from the small lamp on the side table.

You hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, your mind swirling with the events of the day. It had been one of those days—the kind where nothing went right, where every little thing seemed to pile up until you felt like you were drowning under the weight of it all. 

You missed Spencer. A lot. Especially right now.

He had a way of making everything feel better. You longed for his comforting hugs and the way he’d listen to you ramble about your day.

But he wasn’t here. He was at work, buried under mountains of paperwork and case files.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, your heart leaping in your chest as you hurried to the door.

Spencer stepped inside, looking disheveled and exhausted. His tie was loosened, his hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He dropped his bag by the door with a heavy thud, and before you could say a word, he pulled you into a tight hug. 

You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his shoulder. He smelled like coffee and faintly of paper. For a moment, you just stood there, holding each other.

“I missed you,” Spencer mumbled into your hair, his voice muffled but sincere. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t want to let go, but after a moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks.

“Today was horrible,” he said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he let go of you to shrug off his jacket. He ran a hand through his hair, looking more tired than you’d seen him in a long time. 

You bit your lip, hesitating. “What happened?” you asked softly, following him as he moved further into the apartment. 

He sighed again, sinking onto the couch and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Just… paperwork. So much paperwork. And then Garcia’s computer crashed, so we lost half the files we needed, and Hotch wanted everything reorganized by tomorrow morning…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It was just one thing after another.” 

You sat down next to him, your heart aching as you watched him. He looked so drained, so unlike his usual self, and you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about burdening him with your own problems.

Today had been hard for you, but it sounded like it had been even harder for him. The last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. 

So instead of talking about your day, you reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That sounds awful.” 

He gave you a small, tired smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s okay. It’s just… one of those days, you know?” 

You nodded, your throat tightening. You did know.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Instead, you shifted closer, pulling him into another hug. He leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“How was your day?” Spencer mumbled, his voice soft and drowsy as he leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him.

You settled against his side, his head still resting on your shoulder as your fingers continued to gently card through his hair.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated for a moment, your hand stilling briefly before you forced yourself to keep moving. 

“It was… good,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. You tried to inject a note of cheerfulness into your tone, but it came out sounding hollow, even to your own ears. 

Spencer hummed against your shoulder, seemingly too tired to notice the slight falter in your voice. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his words muffled as he nuzzled closer to you. His warmth was comforting, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest. 

After a moment, he shifted, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before slowly sitting up. “I’m going to get changed,” he said, his voice still heavy with exhaustion.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before standing and heading toward the bedroom, leaving you alone on the couch. 

As soon as he was out of sight, the lump in your throat returned, thicker and more suffocating than before. You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill all evening.

But it was no use. The dam broke, and before you could stop yourself, you were on your feet, hurrying toward the bathroom. 

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning against it as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another.

Soon, you were crying , your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. You muttered curses under your breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to hold it together. 

“Get it together,” you whispered harshly, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

The tears kept running, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape.

You felt like a mess, your face hot and your chest tight. But just as you were about to try to pull yourself together, you heard footsteps outside the bathroom door, followed by a soft knock. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice came through the door, gentle and concerned. “Can I come in?” 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t know what to do. Part of you wanted to tell him to go away, to spare him from seeing you like this, but another part of you desperately needed him.

You muttered a curse under your breath, wiping at your face with the back of your hand before slowly getting to your feet. 

You opened the door just enough to peek out, your eyes meeting Spencer’s. He was standing there, his expression soft but worried. His hair was still a mess, but his eyes were focused entirely on you. 

“Hey, hey,” he said immediately, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffled, your throat tightening as you tried to find the words. “I—” you started, but your voice broke, and you shook your head, unable to continue.

How could you even begin to explain? Everything was wrong. The entire day had been wrong, and now you felt like you were falling apart. 

Spencer didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, wiping away a tear. His touch was so tender that it only made you cry harder.

“Come on,” he said softly, his hand slipping down to take yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze before pulling you with him, leading you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. 

You followed him numbly, your fingers intertwined with his as he guided you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. 

“Talk to me, angel,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?” 

The nickname made your heart ache, and you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “You had such a bad day, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

Spencer’s expression softened, his hands moving to cradle your face. “You could never make my day worse,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you’re never a bother. Not to me. Not ever.” 

You shook your head again, your hands gripping his wrists as you tried to steady yourself. “But you were so tired, and I didn’t want to—” 

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You save me, I save you. That’s how this works, remember?” 

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching as more tears spilled over by just hearing those sweet words. Spencer leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

You went willingly, burying your face in his shoulder as he held you close. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, and you felt some of the tension in your chest begin to ease. After a while he slowly let go, but his hands remaining on your arms.

“Tell me about your day,” he said after a while, his voice soft but insistent. “What happened?” 

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—so patient, so understanding—made it impossible to hold back. So you told him. You told him about everything that had gone wrong.

And he listened, his hands never leaving yours, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

When you were done, he pulled you into his arms again, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. But I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.” 

You nodded, your face buried in his shoulder as you clung to him. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again. Like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Always, angel,” he said softly. “Always.” 

[reiding-writing]

in my head cold!reader fs has her silly moments because she’s a funny gal!!! she just hides it 😞 i also would love to see them all go ice skating because they tease her about being an ice princess all the time

SLIP ���N SLIDE — SPENCER REID!

for someone often likened to all things icy, you don’t deal with actual ice all that well.

spencer reid x cold!reader | 1.3k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — not quite ice skating, more like ice walking, but close enough i hope 😭

Snow blankets the ground in an unbroken sheet of white, thick and heavy, muffling the world. The air is sharp enough to slice through layers of clothing, and each breath curls into a ghostly mist before vanishing. It's the kind of cold that settles in your bones, the kind that reminds you of all the reasons you despise winter.

The wind cuts like a blade against your cheek, biting through the layers of your FBI-issued winter coat. You bury your chin deeper into the fleece-lined collar, eyes narrowed against the sharp glare of the mid-morning sun reflecting off the ice.

“The crime scene is on the other side,” Hotch announces, his breath fogging in the air.

“Great,” you mutter. “Just great.”

A frozen lake. Of course.

You glance at the ice stretching out before you, the crime scene a stark, crimson-streaked contrast against the pristine white of the snow on the far side. The local authorities determined it would take too long to go around, and in these temperatures, time is everything. The killer's trail is fresh, the evidence vulnerable to the elements.

So, naturally, your team has decided to cross the ice.

“Let's move carefully,” Hotch warns. “We don't know how thick it is.”

“Well, this is gonna be fun,” Morgan says, shifting his weight as he surveys the slick surface between you and the body. “Guess we’re getting our morning cardio in,”

Beside him, Spencer adjusts his scarf, his breath puffing in front of him like smoke. “Technically, the increased difficulty of walking across an unstable, frictionless surface means our energy expenditure will be higher than normal. It’s not exactly—”

“Kid,” Morgan cuts in, shaking his head, “it was a joke,”

Spencer closes his mouth, but the corners twitch like he’s fighting the urge to clarify further.

You sigh, already feeling the first inklings of a headache forming. The case has been dragging on for days now—cold, bleak, and utterly relentless, much like the weather. The victim count is rising, and the unsub’s patterns are erratic, making it harder to form a cohesive profile.

Everything about this case feels unsteady, and now, looking at the vast stretch of ice before you, that instability has become a literal obstacle.

The team step onto the ice in what’s almost a single-file line, following the careful steps of the local detective guiding them safely across the lake.

You, however, stay firmly planted at the edge.

“You coming, Ice Queen?” Morgan calls over his shoulder, smirking.

The nickname grates, but you don’t react. You never do. You've heard it all before—it’s nothing new.

But today, for once, the title feels ironic. Because as much as you might be an ‘Ice Queen,’ you are not in your element.

The moment you step onto the ice, you know you're doomed.

Your boot slides, and suddenly, gravity isn't your friend. Your arms pinwheel as you scramble for balance, heart lurching into your throat.

Morgan barks out a laugh. “Damn, Princess. You sure you’re not playing it up for effect?”

You shoot him a glare. “Bite me, Morgan.”

He just chuckles, clearly amused by your suffering.

JJ glances back with a smothered smile, and Emily—traitor that she is—grins outright. “Need a hand?” she offers, but there's amusement in her voice, and you refuse to give her the satisfaction.

“No.” you say stiffly, planting your feet more firmly.

Except the ice has other plans.

Your boot skids again, and for a split second, you think you might recover—until you don’t. Your feet fly out from under you, and you hit the ice with a spectacular lack of grace.

The impact rattles through your bones, and for a moment, you just lie there, staring up at the grey sky, wondering if it’s too late to quit your job and move somewhere warm.

You hear Morgan’s laughter first—loud and unfiltered. Then Emily’s, followed by JJ’s soft giggle. Even Rossi looks vaguely amused.

And Spencer.

When you turn your head, you find him standing nearby, eyes wide, lips twitching like he's trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

Your dignity is in shambles.

“Glad I could entertain you,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto your elbows.

Morgan wipes at his eyes, still chuckling. “I gotta be honest, I expected better from you. All that ice in your veins, and you can't even stand up on it?”

You level him with a look that could freeze hell itself. “Say that again, Morgan. I dare you.”

That just makes him laugh harder.

You try to rise—carefully, deliberately—but the moment you shift your weight, your foot betrays you again, sending you skidding forward. You barely catch yourself on your hands before your knees slam into the ice.

This is actual hell.

You hear a quiet shuffling, and then Spencer is crouching beside you. “Here,” he says, offering his hand. “Let me help you,”

You stare at it, then at him. “I can do it myself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says patiently, “but statistically speaking, the longer you struggle, the higher the likelihood of you falling again,”

You narrow your eyes. “Did you just calculate my probability of embarrassment?”

“Technically, it’s your probability of losing your balance,” he corrects. “But if you’d prefer, I could just—“

“Fine,” you snap, before he can retract his offer.

You grab his hand, and he pulls you up with surprising steadiness. His grip is warm, fingers wrapping securely around yours. He doesn’t let go immediately, waiting until you find your footing.

“Okay?” he asks.

You nod, exhaling sharply. “Yeah. Thanks.”

His lips quirk in the smallest smile. “Anytime,”

Behind you, Morgan lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Man, that was cute,”

“I hope you drown.”

You manage to stay upright as you start moving again, though it's a battle with every step. Spencer stays close, occasionally offering a hand when you falter. You try not to let it bother you—try not to acknowledge the warmth lingering on your skin where his fingers brushed against yours.

Eventually, you reach the other side of the lake, and you’ve never been more grateful to feel solid ground beneath your feet.

Morgan claps a hand on your shoulder as he passes. “Nice work, Permafrost. That was real impressive,”

You resist the urge to trip him.

“Go die.”

“You wound me,” He presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “And here I was, thinking we had a special bond,”

“If by ‘special bond’ you mean I tolerate your existence, then sure.”

Spencer snorts beside you, and for a brief moment, you almost smile.

Almost.

But then the cold seeps back in, and the reality of the case presses down on you once more. The victim is just ahead, her body pale and still against the snow.

Your amusement fades.

There’s still work to be done.

“You really don’t like the ice, huh?” Spencer asks after a moment.

You sigh, brushing the remnants of frost from your jeans. “No. I really don’t.”

“Noted,” he says, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

[mourndust]

‧₊˚♡ DAYWALKER // vampire!cait x hunter!vi x reader

hiiiiii, the pool results are loud and clear, so here it is my little promised piece. this here contains smut so please, 18+ minors dni, dead dove do not eat, mentions of murder, voyeurism, vaginal sex, strap-on cait is my vibe (give me more top!cait now), descriptions of blood, spit, fingering, oral sex — it's clear this is a threesome so well. reader is caitlyn's pretty pupil and we love our creator. also, yes this is smut but it is lesbian drama, that being said, there's a lot of jealousy, attempts of murder, treason, toxic relationships (pls they are vampires and i'm no emily dickinson), english is not my first language, so any mistakes i’m sorry. reblog, likes and comments are loved, enjoy the read!

you know there's something off with caitlyn from almost two weeks before the incident.

you don't really know what it is exactly, but since she made you take the bite almost six years ago you know it deep in your chest as your emotions are connected to her, a constant thought that lingered in her mind whether she likes it or not — the countess is hiding something, and it makes you sick in the stomach cause fuck: when did you two began to keep secrets from each other? more than a partner you’re a part of her; caitlyn’s blood runs in your veins, keeping your twisted nature alive each passing second, making her irrevocably, more than just a creator.

"you look worried baby, what is it?" you're so invested in knowing what she's doing in the shadows that you openly ask her, placing a soft kiss over her shoulder as if to calm her nerves down: it has to be something far more sordid than what you two did every time when it comes to feeding cause she has the nerve to stay silent even when the vampire knows every corner of her own mind it's actually infected by you.

she hides it anyway, and mad does not cover the whole emotion you're feeling in your chest when you're still trying to discover what the fuck is going on by the end of the week. you're nothing to her in the matter of the word — yes. she's your creator, and it's an unbreakable bond you'll always share. you'll always have to be close to her since she aches, physically for your company, but she's not yours in the sense of the word, and you're not her's either.

did she found another vampire to rely her pleasure on? the thought eats your brain like a parasite on a saturday night. the moon is hiding in the sky as the clock hits in the middle of the silence marking the hour: six in the morning and you find yourself pushing the thick door of your room to slide in the cold spaces of the castle instead of sleeping. a light breeze hits your uncovered shoulder, and you're quick to become one with the dark nature of the place you call home.

it's a lack of respect to appear in the chambers of your count uninvited, but your feet do not listen, compelled to pay a visit to her without a proper plan: maybe demand an answer? bend caitlyn against that expensive desk she spends so much time in? make her admit there’s something off with her lately while she's weak and pliable? somehow you'll make clear you are bounded to her, that in the end of all, she's yours.

and as the dark engulfs you, the path to caitlyn's room seem an eternity in the long hallways connecting the whole property. silent as you can only hear the sound of your footsteps against the marble of the ground, the whistle of the wind almost whispering to you until you can see her door at the end of the hallway. your feet come to a complete stop as your fingers tighten against the fabric of your night gown when you can notice the smell it in the air like a disease — a human.

the countess is hiding a human.

if you'd had a heart, it would probably race against the sudden news. a few more doors and you'll be right in front of her room like multiple times before, yet this time completely different than any other day: was she feeding without you? was she playing with her food like you two always did?

deep down, you know what it is. you can hear it too. playing dumb like that wasn't the moans of your countess, like that isn't the subtle smell of sex leaking through the barely opened door of her room. you stand close to the gap not daring to touch the door, keeping your whole body at a safe distance before giving in an just lean.

there it is. the fever in your own body as a response to how caitlyn's spread open in the mattress of her room with a fucking human feasting on her cunt, taking your spot as she's knees deep into the irregular floor, pink hair, and tattooed back full in display, acting like she owned the place.

the countess is fucking a human.

and it's not any human when you pay attention to the girl's details, the mark of a vampire hunter resting in the skin of her lower back, hiding in between the mechanic design you look for a while.

your countess is fucking a damn hunter.

she can be killed by the high council if they knew the treason she's committing in her own castle — on vampire ground, but instead of leaving, of making your creator aware you're there, you stay right where you are, peeking through the door unable to look away.

something is not right with you, all sorts of freak when you keep looking, drinking in the sight of the human making delightful sounds deep between the countess legs, hands wrapped up in her tights as she pulls her closer to her face — caitlyn’s a fucking mess.

of course she is. dark blue hair spread on the pillows, back arched and opened legs like a fucking offer to her, like the count did multiple times with you.

caitlyn’s moans fill the room, and you feel filthy by looking, but you cannot dare to move away, even when you try to avoid that feel of ache between your legs as you’re painfully aware of how good the hunter’s making her feel.

you’re connected, isn’t that right? it’s both a curse and a blessing when you swear you can feel it, the long and wide licks of the haunter’s tongue, her calloused hands trailing up her body like a map she’s just taunting, land she’s just discovering. man, you want to hate it all — but hate it’s a strong word when you feel so fucking good there at only inches, damping your panties cause the scene itself could turn on even a damn nun.

and you’re annoyed. hella annoyed as you’re puzzled in between shouting or still enjoying the view stupidly horny, but even annoyed, you don’t dare to move a muscle, blending with the dark as a red hue appears in your irises: maybe you could kill the human. end up the threat and remind the count what a hunter should be to her: food.

“tell me what you want-” you hear the pink haired talk — “please. wanna do good f’you cupcake.”

has caitlyn been fucking the hunter for a while? your mind turns fuzzy as they go, not really aware of your presence as you lick your lips, craving some blood to warm up the insides of your cold soul, the fire slowly spreading in the pit of your stomach. you should be making a scene, demanding your creator to give you explanations when she, herself, has said multiple times hunter's are not to be trusted, but instead, your feet seem glued to the marble floor, just thinking for a while how much you'd love to kneel too. be good.

you try to understand what it is with this human. maybe that's the only rational explanation you can come up with — you're looking because you need to know: what does the hunter has, that you don't?

"your tongue, vi" the count answer in a ragged voice. "your fingers- please."

she's close. the human knows it, you know it. it's like a shared secret. you've seen her like that before, pleading, erratic, asking for more when she can even handle what she's already receiving, yet vi, looks pleased by it, curling her fingers inside her leaky cunt until the sounds you can hear are nothing but a nasty symphony of her arousal dripping down the hunter's hand.

"listen to you, cait" the sound of her voice is muffled against her, leaving kisses over her tights, biting the count's skin pleased with the whole situation — "you're sucking me in baby, 'can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me already, gonna cum, cupcake?"

your hands shake, and you wonder, deep in the confines of your mind, if it would be so wrong to finger yourself too. eyes narrowing in pure envy when caitlyn's mumbling some stupid bullshit about feeling so full, of her fingers curving just right to rub on that spot she fucking loves. her body spasms while the hunter's taking care of the mess she just made, slowly, gently, almost to herself more than in search of her desire. like she need to have just a little more.

it's not the worst. the worst comes when caitlyn's pulling her, tossing her to bed to straddle her lap, vi's hands on the countess ass — almost controlling her movements when she's trying to make her move, ride her tight to come undone once again.

and caitlyn's a greedy bitch. your creator has always been a greedy bitch, so it's not a surprise when she's making full usage of her force to keep the hunter prisoner under her tights like it's nothing, towering against her broad figure to let her fingers roam against her naked form, the silver jewelry of vi's pierced nipples that has your creator licking her lips in need.

fuck caitlyn. fuck that nice feeling in your chest being so connected to her, the one that mingles with the pleasure in your guts, coils of desire forming even when you try to push them aside, tempted to join in like looking at them is not really perverted already as the countess uses her bare hand to keep her steady against the sheets, ethereal in contrast to the poor illumination of the night coming to an end.

"feed from me," something stirs in you when hearing the hunter asking for something that she should be terrified about "somewhere they won't see- bite me." the smell of the blood makes you dizzy as caitlyn leans against her skin, kissing her with nothing but longing before her teeth sink in without a previous warning, and the sound the human makes — god. you crave to hear it again as the countess pushes her fingers against the wound she made beneath her left breast, allowing her blood to run freely as she licks on every drip.

it's hard to resist. and you know now why cait's keeping her. sweet scent, warm blood, devastating pussy-eater. it makes sense when vi's whimpering against the cold touch of your countess, how the vampire is so invested in something that could get her killed. the hunter's blood fill the air of the room, placing itself beneath your nostrils as you breathed, not because you need it, but because of the delicious smell of her blood.

she's risking her life because she's damn worth it. every. single. drop.

and as vi whimpers, lightheaded, you seem to also make a sound, cause suddenly the count's tense before looking over her shoulder, cold gaze now glued to the spot you used to be, scanning the place as she could smell your scent disappearing on the wind.

you can hear the footsteps even after you're long gone, going back to your room so fast to slide in the fresh sheets of your bed, turning off the candles in hope that would deceive your creator into believing you're deep in your sleep.

count kiramman is ruthless. you know that very well as you close your eyes mere seconds before your creator is resting against your door frame, hands crossed against her chest as she simply studies you, like you two aren't connected and she won't know in the end you've seen her, that you were there.

it feels like a test when she stays there for five-eternal-fucking-minutes, watching if you move closely before going back to her chambers in silence.

you know she knows. you know it, cause you can feel the hunter's hands all over your body too.

being connected is both a blessing and a curse, wasn't it? as a young vampire, you didn't really care about it until now.

there's no way caitlyn don't know.

even in the next days when she acts all happy and nice with you — it's all because she knows it. she knows you were there, that you knew about her biggest treason to her own kind.

was it an act? you've heard about creators killing their protégées, making fun of the idea before experiencing it first hand: will the countess kill you? she has a temper for sure, but enough to get rid of you? never. despite all tries to calm yourself down, you find yourself looking from over your shoulder multiple times in plain dark, barely sleeping through the day as you're too worried to wake up to her impaling you during the broad daylight.

it's rational that you're hurt, rational about your plans to get rid of the threat that is compromising your comfortable life, so you stay far from the countess as much as you can, surprising her to the point she's now questioning your presence like she didn't get you're heartsick ever since you find her with a hunter.

fuck. why does she have to be like that? why does she always want to have it all?

it pisses you off how she’s acting like everything's okay, like she cannot feel it too, that ache in your chest whenever you're close. you can smell the hunter's perfume like a new scent on caitlyn and you fucking hate it every time. furiously whenever you catch it, making up excuses about random things to avoid the count as you go to your room, plotting more plans that would fail miserably to just- kill her.

it becomes a need soon. so much you start to dream about it, the need to feast on your lover's pet only to leave her dry in front of her eyes — to hell if caitlyn's mad.

"i need to speak to you," the count's dark blue hair shines thanks to the light of the candles in your room, taking a look of the insides as you stand in front of her, barely covered in a white sheer nightgown that caitlyn feels it makes you even more desirable to look at, exposed cleavage as her eyes followed the moles that got lost in between your breasts—. "in my room."

"i know i've been weird lately. and i was hoping we could talk," she tries to convince you after seeing your annoyed expression: is that all it takes? a sexy outfit and some indifference? — "i'm not really asking."

the power she has over you must be studied, cause you simply nod as she leaves, making you promise you'll be in her room in an hour not a minute past midnight. so usually, that would mean a good old fuck, but now? now you're not really sure about what's going to expect you in that room.

will she be honest for once? admit she's been engaging relations with a hunter? putting them all at danger? it's stupid how torn she makes you, but you're standing there forty minutes later cause you're weak, and you'd hear anything she'd have to say not because you have to, but because you need to hear it.

so as you enter, it caughts you off-guard cause the hunter is there over her bed and you think it should all be an illusion but her gaze seems buried in you, very aware of your presence there in the count's room — "is this a tramp?" you ask, and the human's laughing as she props herself over her elbows, looking at the whole scene as if she's waiting for the next instructions.

"sit down," caitlyn’s voice is more of a command one than a plea. the tone she uses to make you do things, compelled by a force that's pulling you to the chair of her desk before you could even understand her words — "in the bed."

the scent of vi's blood is nothing but alluring as the hunter stays at a considerable distance when you both share the count's bed. naked shoulder on display for you to lean forward and just-

"you seem to forget about the fact that i can hear what you're thinking, love" the countess accent is a caress against your cheek, a gentle touch as she speaks.

"never" you admit as the vampire moves to stand between your legs, fingers tightening against your jaw to make you look at her.

"speak louder."

"i said never."

"then you think i'd never knew you were looking at us standing outside of my room like a pervert? that i'd forget easily?"

her tone is like a million cutting glasses in your skin, a taste of her temper as you blush, probably for the blood you consumed earlier, ashamed of her words — "you- you're fucking a hunter in vampire soil. risking it all for a human!"

"but you stayed to look, huh?" caitlyn demands, squeezing your cheeks harshly as her grip tightens each passing time — "stayed to see me cum like a dirty slut. leaved the place stinking with your fucking mess, made you soak your panties right in the hallways and you thought i- we were going to let it pass?"

she's cocky when right. enjoying the fact she has the last word as usual — "answer me."

"yes" you admit shamelessly — "i know i shouldn't have look."

“yes what?”

“yes count kiramman.”

"thing is, we're not really mad at that, aren't we?" she asks as the human shakes her head with a hum. "what i'm mad at is having you spent the whole week acting like resentful minx. this whole act of direspect.”

"this human can get everyone killed my count. you know it."

this time it’s the hunter who’s openly laughing when hearing you, shaking her head unfazed — “no one is finding this out, troublemaker. no one is going to kill anyone, don’t have to worry about me sweetheart.”

you look at her like she’s fucking crazy, staring at her freckles until you come across her blue eyes, trying to know if she’s going to jump to kill you anytime. however, you grow distracted by her features, finding in the rough exterior something magnetic that calls you in, a sudden need to touch her naked shoulder to leave a sloppy kiss to her bare skin.

“you like her too,” caitlyn seem pleased to look, staring down at your figure seated in the corner of her bed. there’s no explanation to how her words make you feel, how her voice tickles something in your brain — “i know you do. such a fucking mess for a hunter. can smell your cunt dripping just like before.”

“i don’t-” it’s pathetic how you try to hide it, how you’re so invested in a plain lie you don’t fully believe. violet’s smell is like a knife straight to the chest as she’s there, expectant, and fuck, the hunter’s gaze is so intense soon after you can feel it somehow, blue irises drinking in the sight of that lacy night gown that’s showing enough cleavage to let her wondering sight study you.

“no more lies,” the count says, shaking her head in disapproval — “i want your full honest or else i’ll get rid of you and your poor conduct.”

it’s impossible not to shiver when vi’s lips come in contact with your naked skin without a previous warning, soft kisses like the ones you wanted to give her before in your very own shoulder— “c’mon bloodsucker, don’t be mean. you’re a pretty vampire aren’t you?”

“yes- i’ll beheave” you answer — “i’ll be good i promise-”

the hunter’s words sends shiver down your spine as caitlyn’s grip in your jaw tightens for a second time, making you look up to her as the human continues on her own bubble. the feeling of her soft kisses is a huge contrast with the vampire’s cold fingers, and good fuck. you know you’re in trouble when you’re craving the warm feeling of the human’s skin, the blood pumping on her veins so close to you — “kiss her.”

the countess gaze search yours as her command lingers in the air, and you look like you don’t believe it at first: kiss her personal toy? did you hear that right? — “you know you want to. kiss her.”

violet’s eyes change to a darker shade of blue almost expectant of your next move, and you’re there, trying to remember she’s the enemy, jeopardized in your own feelings: why do you want to kiss her too? your fingers trace the shape of her lips, lingering on her scars as the hunter’s breathing hitches on her throat: weren’t you about to kill her? weren’t you ready to claim the count as yours? finish all the threats? it doesnt make sense now how a creature made to kill is so invested now in pulling you closer just to steal a deep, demanding kiss.

it’s a game. you’re nothing but a prime killer, top tier in the food pyramid and the human’s there, looking at you with pleading eyes like you’re not remotely near to be a predator. and you want it. pouring in your chest like a long lost need, something you’re craving yet somehow never realized it before.

vi’s lips are soft under her scars, pushing her tongue against yours in a saliva-filled kiss, wondering hands as she steals a moan — oh how quick she forgot you’ve sworn on killing her too! how quick she forgot she’s trained to kill you and the countess as she seems very into the kiss now, leaving a sweet scent in the air that mingles with her own arousal.

it’s almost a victory when you can smell her soaking panties, a trophy you’re planning to keep on your memories as you seek for more.

“aren’t you a charmer?” violet says sharing a look with the countess as if looking for permission — “are all vampires like this? so hot and bothered so easily?”

“no,” you answer sharply, almost offended — “most would kill you. pretty things like you should be destroyed.”

“don’t kill her” the count says as the hunter squeezes your breast when she notices how you’re not pushing away but in, kissing her until she’s choking on something so basic as breathing — “no feeding until i say so, get it? use your words and tell me you understand.”

“yes,” you soon shake your head, looking at vi’s chest filling up with air at the lack of it— “ i understand, no feeding- i’ll do it.”

“that’s more like it,” caitlyn praises as you’re crawling over on your hands on knees to corner the human against the bed, caging in between the mattress and your own body — “wasn’t so hard, see?”

you want to say something, deny it even, but fuck, how could you when you’re so lost in a hunter? bitting her with just enough force to make her body shiver in need, a tease when her reactions to you are like a vice. it’s not your fault when you’re breaking the bandages of her chest, tearing them appart without really making force.

“hey-” violet’s ready to whine before you lean against her breasts, squeezing them between your hands before sucking her nipple in, taking special time on marking her down as if you wanted to rip her off caitlyn’s property and make it your own. the barbell of her pierced breasts only seems to add to her pleasure as she seems to forgot about what she’s going to bark about, a competition almost as the countess makes you stay on your hands and knees, pushing you further into vi’s tits only to make your ass lift up in the perfect position.

“you’ve been nothing but a problem, forgetting about your place” her words are slurred as she moves you in the way she wants you to be, ass up, face buried in the hunter’s chest before spanking you until her whole hand is visible on your ass-cheeks — “should i remind you that i made you? that you’re mine too?”

you’re too zoned out to answer, kisses travelling from vi’s chest to her stomach as the sharp angles on her body now melt away against your lips, traces of visible saliva on her skin as she parts her legs like an invitation, leaving enough space for you to settle between them.

fuck her. the hunter knows what she’s doing, looking down to you as she moans and writhe, silently asking for more like good human pet.

“i can see now why caitlyn’s keeping you” you say, fingers purposefully moving now to reach her black underwear — “you got this nice smell on you and fuck. i could devour you whole, you don’t really understand.”

you aren’t aware of your ass being at the count’s behest, however, the strap is around cait’s waist as she uses her right hand to cup your cunt like it’s hers cause it is. and in her dingy room, her index fingers teases over the fabric of your underwear only to dampen her finger with it, looking, interested, how you’re pulling vi’s panties to the side, licking your own finger to just tease her entrace too.

she’s sensitive as you spit against your fingers, the feeling of your slick saliva in her sensitive sex as you look up to her, the blush on her face that matches her hair and makes your stomach do this thing you don’t even know it can do, a warm feeling spreading all over.

pink pussy on display, a rough slap on your ass and suddenly, caitlyn’s pulling down your panties to your knees, middle finger teasing your entrance without really going in, angling you down to where she needs you to be— “eat her up,” she breathes out, coaxing you into doing what you’ve been craving to since the beggining. “go on. feast on her pretty cunt, want to see you enjoying it.”

it alleviate all your aches, the weight on your back, the worry you’ve been going through the week, the anger you’ve been gathering on the pit of your stomach as the count buries her finger in your aching hole, pushing it inside until her knuckles are brushing against your core and you’re arching your back, presenting your ass to her without dismissing your current job.

she’s elegant even where her actions are nothing but filthy, taking her time in stretching you out as you sink in between vi’s legs.

it’s desesperation what invades you, a depravity that makes you surrender to her, to both of them. moans are muffled against the hunter’s cunt and suddenly you’re eating her up like a meal, tongue rounding her clit in slow, controlled strokes. “fingers-” vi whines, arching her back as she searches for more of your mouth, of your fingers stretching her open without fully sinking in — “please, please use your fingers.”

“so pretty when you beg-” you say, becoming a fucking mess against caitlyn’s fingers itself, moving against her digits to make them reach deeper as your own do the same, burying them in the human’s cunt, mixing up your caresses with your tongue until you can only taste her, flavour filling up your bucal cavity like candy — “ngh-fuck. you’re so warm-”

it’s making your mind go dizzy as vi’s pussy suck up your fingers, delving deeper as they curl inside her dripping cunt, arousal now dripping to your palm making you satisfied as ever.

it’s such a fucking sight.

trapped between the hunter’s pussy and the count’s cock she’s pushing against your leaking cunt, finally burying herself until it reaches that nice, velvety spot you enjoy almost too much so the pleasure becomes unbearable, her fingers leave your channel to be replaced with the her dick, making you look from over your shoulder as profanities leave your lips in response — she loves it. the vampire gets off your messy look, your swollen lips as you finger violet stupid, the blue rubber cock dragging along your walls, pushing against your cervix to take what she wants.

“such a whore, taking me all the way in,” she mutters “good girl letting me fuck you like this, sucking my cock in- keep eating her, c’mon, you’re losing focus baby.”

and god she’s so right. vi’s looking at you through half lidded eyes, lost in the squelch sound as your fingers quickly fuck her, curling inside as she seems interested now in the way caitlyn’s pistoning her hips against your sore sex, pushing her thumb against the entrance of your pucker hole, teasing you only cause she knows you like far more than you’re willing to admit.

connected. you are connected to the count so hell— caitlyn swore she can feel your walls clenching against her dick, your arousal dripping down your tights to stain the sheets of her bed, your sloppy, erratic licks against vi’s cunt and her fucking taste in your mouth.

vi’s abs clench as she’s close, muscles flexing as you look up to her, connecting your gaze to the powder blue eyes, sweat covering her skin in such a human reaction, arching her back to your mouth as she pulls you closer, taking the strands of your hair between shaky fingers — “m’gonna cum- fuck m’gonna cum-”

the smell. god her smell is driving you insane. fuelled by caitlyn’s rough movements impaling you relentlessly, you swear your vision turns hazy.

“bite her,” the count manages to say composed as ever, looking down to both the hunter and her cute pupil — “you’ve been craving her blood since you saw us. bite her.”

you look up to the human almost asking for permission, like you really give a fuck about her opinions before she nods unaware of her surroundings. and there’s a pulsating vein on her inner tight you can feel pulsating over and over again like the key to heaven, a kiss or two, a slow lick as your fingers sissor inside her pussy and suddenly you’re bitting her with an unknown force, tearing up the sensitive skin to finally, finally have a taste of what you’ve been thinking about from almost two weeks.

it’s common that young vampires are unaware of their force, common that they take so much without noticing, so you think about it for a second, her warmth flowing inside of you only to renew your energy, a new vigor as your fingers greedely fuck her to reduce her into pieces — it would be so easy to just- end up with her.

that’s the emotion of all, you think. making her lightheaded to the point she’s not sure of where she finishes and where you begin, until her blood is staining the countess sheets and you’re sucking, like a fucking leech, the blood that comes out the open wound.

you can feel the hunter orgasm pouring in, the way her pussy spams in your hand, the loud moans as she loses control of herself, shaking beneath you. it’s such a lovely sight as you drink, taking more of her like you werent satisfied already, the pain mixing up deliciously with the pleasure you’re bringing to her.

so when violet cums, you can feel it everywhere. a demolition that crushes her down, destroying that façade of the bad big hunter to reduce her to a babbling mess, trembling against your fingers as she whines when you continue on sucking her blood, not caring about her uneven breathing.

“i said, don’t fucking kill her,” caitlyn’s rough voice it’s the only thing you can hear as she takes you by the hair, pulling on your strands harshly as she takes you away from her leg, keeping your head up as her hips crashes over and over again with renewed energy, the hunter’s pliable body beneath you as her hand comes up to choke you, not really harsh when she’s weak, but gripping your neck and tucking the messy strands of your hair beneath your hair.

“such a pretty pet,” the hunter says, looking down to you even when she’s still lightheaded from the blood loss— “let’s keep her, can we keep her?”

the countess hums in response, you’re her’s but she can share right? she can share a bit.

vi’s hand slides down to your clit, and it’s just right when her fingers move in circles, an added pleasure that makes your body shake, intense coils of ecstasy now forming in your belly as electricity travels down your spine, making your body burn without a previous warning.

it’s delicious- the way you reach your peak, a high you cannot come down as you ride your orgasm, face disorted in pleasure as your vision turns blurry, caitlyn’s burying the rubber cock as far as your cunt allow it just to leave it there— keeping you full of her as a way to remind you who owns you, you made you like this.

fuck.

maybe you are going to be acussed of treason too, cause when vi’s pushing you forward to make you sit on her face you don’t have any questions about it, surrendering to her touch in seconds.

pathetic. you love it.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff Drabbles - Two Types of People

Summary: There are two types of people. | Words: 470 | Warnings: None, fluff.

A/N-> I'm not sure if I have posted this before, so if I have just pretend I didn't :) I got the idea from tik tok btw.

General Masterlist | AO3 |

-&-

The annoying beeping made Wanda grumble in bed, trying unsuccessfully to hide from the noise by pulling the covers over her head.

A giggle was heard next, and to Wanda's happiness, the annoying sound stopped as well.

"You need to get up now if you don't want to be late." You warned gently, and she heard your footsteps in the room until the brightness increased signaling that you had opened the curtains. She grumbled again, cowering further under the covers. 

You giggled. 

Suddenly the bed shifted and there was a new weight on it. Wanda forced herself to open her eyes as you pulled the covers aside so you could look down at her face.

"Good morning cutie."  You whispered charmingly, bringing a soft color to your girlfriend's freshly awakened face. Wanda closed her eyes again, and you smiled at the action. "Hey, baby. Wake up."

With another grumble, she moved closer, effectively hiding against your body. You chuckled but did not reject the hug. "Let me sleep. I'm tired." She mumbled in a voice hoarse with slumber, and you hummed in understanding, knowing that she really should by the time she returned from missions the day before. But today was still Spider Boy's graduation and you both promised to attend. 

You were ready for another try when the alarm went off again and you had some difficulty getting free of the girl pulling you back to bed to turn off her cell phone on the corner table. 

Back in bed with a sigh, you wrapped Wanda in your arms.

"I think we have a problem, honey." You forced a more serious voice that made Wanda frown and search your gaze, a little more awake than before. But a smile began to form on your lips. "I'm one alarm type of person. While you're the at least five of them type of person. It's the end of our relationship, I'm afraid." 

Your joke draws a hearty laugh from her before Wanda grabs the pillow and tries to hit your face with it. The small dodge of the target makes you almost fall out of bed, and soon, the laughter is shared. 

"You're very lucky I love you." She retorts with the same tone for the bad joke, just as the pillow falls to the floor and she is practically on top of you. Your hands circle her waist next, and you smile as Wanda leans in to kiss you. 

With a quick twist, you are on top but the affected sigh turns into a pout when you don't go back to kissing her.

"I'll love you so much more after you brush your teeth, witchy." You tease one last time and can't even blame her when red energy throws the pillow at your face, knocking you off the bed this time.

[marauder-misprint]

if you’re up for more angst, what about remus seriously injuring the reader while in a werewolf form! (sorry but im a sucker for angst 😝 especially remus, since the tragedy of his character is often played off [esp. his ‘werewolfness’] and i love the way you write him, hard to find good potrayed moony fics 😭)

Angst! Angst! Angst! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy this Moony Angst

The attack

Remus Lupin x reader

4.3k words

cw: angst, werewolf attack, angst, no happy ending

If you weren’t so close with the Marauders, you probably would’ve never noticed. Those nights where the four of them stayed in the common room until late and they were the only ones still up, as even you had to go to bed. Or the nights where they all seemed to turn in extra early yet were exhausted in the morning. Those mornings when they looked far worse for wear and failed to give a reasonable explanation. 

You knew they went somewhere. You had an epiphany late one night on something for a prank and instead of just writing it down, you jumped out of bed and ran to the boys’ dormitory. It was at least 1 a.m. and all of their beds were empty. It didn’t look like they had been slept in. The room was just deserted. 

If you weren’t so close with the Marauders, you probably wouldn’t have cared. But you were so you did. You asked them about it. They avoided each question more carefully than the last. As determined as you were to get answers, they seemed more so to hide whatever they were doing. 

Eventually, you dropped the topic, but your curiosity never waned. You started to randomly check their dorm. Creepy and weird? Yes and you knew it. But they were hiding something and you would be damned if you didn’t figure it out. 

You didn’t have information yet to see if there was a pattern. You just got lucky one night. You were sitting in the common room alone, tucked into a corner with a book and a cozy blanket. You honestly had half a mind to just sleep where you sat. But then there was movement on the other side of the room. 

Remus was leaving the common room and it was well after curfew. It was also past report time for any prefect duties. Where was he going and why? You pondered it for a moment and then heard the shuffling of feet. There was no one there. You thought you were going crazy. The sound was definitely where.

“Shit,” a voice hissed and you saw a flash of shoes nearing the portrait hole. 

You’d recognize those combat boots anywhere: Sirius. You suddenly remember hearing James say offhandedly that he has a cloak of invisibility. You had thought he was joking but maybe not? With the opening and closing of the portrait, you sprang up, ditched your book and blanket and grabbed your cloak which was draped over a chair near you. You had to follow them… somehow. 

Outside of the common room, you stand silently, trying to hear footsteps over the Fat Lady’s chastising. The faintest of sounds came from a nearby staircase and you followed it. You trailed the sound while trying to stay far enough away to not be caught. It was a difficult task being that you couldn’t see exactly where they were. Then you heard voices around the corner. 

Remus and Madam Pomfrey. 

Hushed voices but still recognizable. Even better for you, they didn’t have a cloak so you could see where they were going. You watched them head for a door so you moved to look out the closest window. They approached the Whomping Willow and Pomfrey cast a freezing spell on it. Curious. You turned away from the window for a second to gather your thoughts. Why on earth would they be interacting with the Whomping Willow at night? When you looked back, Remus was gone and Pomfrey was heading back to the castle. You stayed hidden until she was back inside and passed you. 

You’ve mostly forgotten about the other boys and the fact that they might still be in the vicinity. There weren’t any footsteps to remind you of their presence. It took you a second to work up the courage to go outside. You froze the tree like Pomfrey had done. You took slow steps forward, not knowing what to expect. Then you spotted the hole in the ground at the base of the tree. Curious. You inspected it briefly before sliding down into it. 

Darkness surrounded you. You were tempted to cast Lumos so you could see where you landed, but then you remembered that you’re following Remus and you want to stay hidden. There were echoes of something down the passage, but you took it slowly. You felt the wall as you walked and tried not to make any noise yourself. When you reached the end of the passage, you found yourself in a broken, beaten house. Horrid noises came from the upper floor. And then you saw it. A large wolf. Even worse, it saw you. 

It didn’t waste any time jumping down on top of you. You screamed. It’s all you could do. First in fear, then in pain. Claws raked down your body. Sharp, white hot pain engulfed your entire being. 

The last things you saw before passing out were a large black dog and a stag bearing down on the wolf, forcing it to back away from you. 

---

You woke up in the infirmary. At least that’s what you figured based off of the smell and the brightness around you. You couldn’t move because your whole body felt numb. 

“Poppy! She’s awake!” Professor McGonagall called from the side of your bed. 

You heard footsteps rushing toward you.

“You are not to move, Miss. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re alive,” Madam Pomfrey’s stern voice said. “I’ve applied a numbing potion so you shouldn’t be able to feel most of your body for a while. Blink once if you understand.” You blinked. “Blink again if you’re in pain.” You didn’t blink. 

You had never felt more confused and scared in your life. Somehow, being there and unable to move was more frightening than the wolf attacking you. Merlin, why was there a bloodthirsty wolf so close to the grounds? What was it doing in a house with a dog and a deer? You had so many questions.

“Minerva,” Pomfrey said curtly before the sound of footsteps told you she left. 

Your firm teacher spoke with uncertainty, the first time you’ve ever heard her do so. “You were attacked… by a werewolf. I’m not going to ask why you were out of bed and where you were. I’m not going to take away points or assign detention, although, believe me, I’d be well within my right to do so. The… the damage from the attack is quite extensive. Like Poppy said, it’s a miracle you survived. And that you weren’t bitten.” She took a shaky breath. “Werewolf scratches scar deeply. And it is a lot.”

You had one thing going on in your mind now: What the fuck?

---

The next few days passed by in a blur. You were in and out of consciousness with varying ability to talk, see and move. Madam Pomfrey was reapplying numbing potions and giving you potions to lessen the pain. You cried when you were finally able to see the damage. You had deep scarring on your left arm, across your face and chest and down both your legs; there was minor scarring on your right arm. Your back seemed to be the only part of you untouched by the werewolf you encountered. 

Pomfrey told you that you had people asking to visit you, but you weren’t ready to face anyone yet. You weren’t ready for anyone to see you like this. 

“She’s not taking visitors. If she changes her mind, I’ll send someone to get you,” you could hear her tell someone at the doors to the infirmary. 

There were overlapping voices that protested. You couldn’t place the voices, nor could you see who it was due to the curtains that you kept drawn around your bed. 

“Go to class, the four of you. I promise, when she’s ready, you’ll be one of the first to know.”

The door closed with slam and Pomfrey muttered to herself as she returned to her office. The only people you had seen were her, McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore asked you what you remembered of the attack. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want to admit that you followed Remus from the castle and into the tunnel. You didn’t want to tell him about the stag and dog who saved you. So you told him nothing. As far as anyone was concerned, you remembered nothing of your attack or how you ended up outside the castle. 

A few days later, you told Madam Pomfrey that you would take visitors if they came. Then you asked how long you’d have to stay in the infirmary and she told you until the next full moon, just to guarantee that you were safe. You sighed and nodded. All you could think about was the assignments you were falling behind on. 

As soon as lessons were over, James, Peter and Sirius were pounding on the infirmary door. Pomfrey let them in but stopped them right away.

“I assume you boys heard what happened?” she asked in a hushed voice, but you heard her anyway.

You didn’t hear an answer from the boys.

“Then, well, you know what to expect,” she continued.

It felt like a punch to the gut. She was telling them to brace themselves for what you looked like now. It also meant that they knew you were attacked by a werewolf and it likely wasn’t a secret throughout the castle. You tried to stop the tears that pricked at your eyes. 

It certainly didn’t help that they gasped when they pulled back the curtains. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your friends. You were hugging your knees to your chest. You know you told Pomfrey you were ready to see people, but having your closest friends see you like this? Nothing could prepare you for it. They stepped into the curtained area, standing at your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” James asked, his voice soft. 

“Like I’m falling behind in my assignments,” you replied snarkily. 

Sirius laughed and clapped you on the shoulder. “So delusional as always!”

He’s the first one you were able to look at. You needed him to see you roll your eyes at how ridiculous he was. But, really, you’re grateful for his comment and his laughter. It’s the first time you’ve been treated as normal in a week. 

“So when are you allowed to leave?” James asked. This time he sounded less like he was talking to a sick child. 

“Two weeks. Assuming the full moon goes well.”

The three boys exchanged concerned looks. The air was suddenly tense between you. Peter closed the curtain.

Then he asked, “What do you remember from the last one?”

They weren’t Dumbledore or McGonagall. These were your best friends. You could tell them the truth. 

“More than I told Dumbledore…” you muttered, looking away from them. You took a breath before quietly recounting the night. “It started with thinking I was following you three. I had already seen Remus leave the common room and I figured you three were under James’ cloak.”

“Oh, you know about that…” James said.

“You mentioned it once years ago. I thought you were kidding, but ah, clearly not. Anyways, I saw Pomfrey and Remus go outside and right up to the Whomping Willow. I investigated, found a passage and next thing I know, I’m being attacked by a werewolf.”

“And that’s it?” Peter asked cautiously. 

You sighed. “It’s going to sound so silly, but I swear I saw a dog and a deer protect me before I passed out. That was probably the pain…” 

You looked from boy to boy. Their visible concern was almost too much for you.

“Where is Remus?”

“He, uh, couldn’t come by right away. I’m sure he’ll come when he has time,” Sirius said. 

You frowned but nodded. Then you had an idea.

“Would you get my assignments from the professors and help me catch up? I really don’t want to be a month behind when I get out of here.”

“Yeah. Of course. Anything for you, love,” James said as he ran a hand through his hair. 

Then Pomfrey yanked the curtains open and chastised the boys for closing them in the first place. She made them leave and you were alone again. You hated being alone.

Over the next two weeks, you had more visitors. Mostly Gryffindors and the random other students who heard there had been a werewolf attack and wanted to see the result. James, Sirius and Peter took turns bringing you your assignments and helping you catch up. Each of their visits was prefaced with ‘The professors don’t want you to push yourself and said they will give you as much time as you need to catch up’ and you would always tell them that you were bored out of your mind waiting to be released. 

Being bored, however, wasn’t the worst of your issues. Neither was trying to stop flinching every time you saw your reflection. No, it was the fact that Remus had yet to visit you. You asked about him every time the rest of the Marauders stopped by; they always had an excuse ready and claimed he’d be by soon. But he never came. It broke your heart. 

You didn’t think it was any secret that you had a favorite out of the four of them. You adored Remus. He was an underestimated presence, commanding power and attention when he needed to. You could almost call him a shadow god: overlooked yet able wreck havoc. And beyond all of that was his love for books and knowledge. His love for his friends. His loyalty. His devotion to his passions. 

Your favorite person hadn’t been to see you in the four weeks you were in the infirmary. You were furious. You were devastated. You were done. 

The morning after the full moon, when you woke up, you heard him talking with Madam Pomfrey. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. You didn’t want to see him. You wanted him to visit during the past two weeks and he doesn’t show up until you’re to be released? Pissed off didn’t begin to cover how you felt. 

You opened your curtains and asked firmly, “Madam Pomfrey, I’m feeling quite myself. Can I be discharged?” 

Then you saw him. Shirtless on a bed a few over from yours as Pomfrey applied long bandages to his chest and shoulder. The two of you locked eyes. Your eyes burned with fury while his welled with concern and guilt. You wanted to snap at him but clenched your jaw instead. 

“Oh, yes, dear. I was just waiting for you to wake up,” Pomfrey said. “If you’d like to wait a moment, I’m just finishing up with Mr. Lupin.”

“No, thank you, ma’am,” you said shortly before leaving both of them baffled at your refusal to wait. 

You had no desire to be in the vicinity of ‘Mr. Lupin’ at the moment. He wasn’t even there to visit you. He was there for himself. He had gone and gotten himself banged up on his own. 

---

You avoided Remus. You put as much distance between you and him as you can. If he was around and you couldn't get away, you gave him a cold shoulder. You remained on good terms with Peter, James and Sirius, but it was difficult to spend time with them without Remus also around. 

So you found solace in your female friends. You knew they were concerned about the space you were putting between yourself and the Marauders; it was just so out of character for you. They wondered if it was a result of your attack, if the boys had somehow been involved in it, although they never raised these concerns when you were around. They just made sure that you were never alone unless you asked to be. 

“What happened between you and the Marauders?” Dorcas asked during study hall some time after your attack. 

The Gryffindor girls gave her a wide-eyed stare before turning to look at you semi-nervously. Apparently, they had forgotten to fill in Marlene’s girlfriend on the taboo question. 

“Nothing,” you said nonchalantly, not even bothering to look up from your work.

“Bullshit. You haven’t talked to them in over a week and even I’ve noticed,” she said pointedly. 

“I’ll talk to Sirius, James, Peter. Not my fault they don’t separate from the damn traitor.” 

Lily snorted, in laughter or suprise, she wasn’t sure. “The traitor? Do you mean Remus?”

You glared at her. “Yes.”

“The one who’s been staring at you in practically every class since you were released?”

“He’s probably just surprised at how I look now. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s different,” you said coldly. 

“Maybe. Or he wants to talk to you,” Mary suggested. 

Now it was your turn to snort in disbelief with a shake of your head. 

“He does,” Lily confirmed. “He’s, you know, scared you won’t listen to him. Which I think is a valid conclusion being that you-”

“He better be scared,” you cut her off. “If he tries to speak to me, I’m hexing the bastard into next year. Pass that on, will you?”

At that, the girls dropped the topic. Dorcas got the message that you weren't to be asked about the Marauders any more. Lily passed on your message to an upset Remus during prefect duties. How was he supposed to fix things with you if you wouldn’t give him a moment of your time? 

“There’s no way she doesn’t know that I’m the one who did that to her. She told Lily that she’d hex me into next year if I try to talk to her. I’m fucked. I’m so utterly fucked… I’ve lost her,” Remus moaned one evening in the boys’ dorm. 

Remus hated how you wouldn’t look at him. He hated how you avoided him with so much determination that you barely had a friendship with the rest of the Marauders anymore. He knew he couldn’t blame you for avoiding him; he was a monster and had attacked you. He still wanted to apologize to you, to explain that he has no control over what he does when he’s in wolf form. It was the least he could do, but you wouldn’t let him. 

A small part of him wanted to blame you for being in the Shrieking Shack. That maybe he would place some of the blame on you. But he didn’t know what you were doing there. Maybe you had a perfectly valid reason for being there that he didn’t know about. Maybe there was more to the story, the one-sided story that he couldn’t get the other side to because you wouldn’t even look at him.

“Moony, mate, I don’t think she knows you’re the werewolf. She know we were out of the tower too,” Sirius said.

“Out of us, who looks the most like a possible werewolf?” Remus snapped. He knew he was right on that point. He was covered in scars and often sickly. 

“Okay, but she was asking for you every time we delivered homework. Why would she be asking for you if she didn’t want to talk to you?” James added. 

“Then what happened? Why is she avoiding me?”

“Because you didn’t visit her in the infirmary?” Peter offered lazily.

“I was there when she was discharged!” 

“Hmm, not the same. Wasn’t a visit and you know it,” Peter concluded.

“I’m fucked,” Remus repeated. 

Remus was growing desperate. He missed you. He missed having you around, your comments and warm presence. Even if you couldn’t stand him anymore, if you feared him, he didn’t want to be the reason you stopped being friends with James, Sirius and Peter. He needed to talk to you so he could apologize and tell you that if you wanted him to, he would distance himself from the boys so you could have your friends back. 

So he turned to the only person he thought could actually help him right now: Lily. He begged her to help him. He knew he looked and sounded pathetic, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He just needed a moment of your talk so you could talk. Or at least listen with sending him into the infirmary for a year, like you had threatened. She agreed to help, although she advised him to be cautious. 

Lily’s part was simple enough. She had to get you alone at a back table in the library, and then when Remus approached the table, she would tell you to just listen to him, hear him out, and then you would never have to speak to him again if you didn’t want to. 

When this transpired, you glared at the two of them. You were slightly upset with Lily’s backing of Remus. You knew that she had no reason to be upset with Remus and you never voiced why you were upset. But still, she knew you didn’t want to talk to him. 

“Please,” Remus said, voice pleading. “I just need a few minutes of your time. I’ll leave you alone forever after. Please.” 

“Fine,” you groaned.

Lily gave you a smile and hug before leaving to give you privacy. Remus took a seat across the table from you. You didn’t say anything more. You waited for him to say something. 

“I understand if you're scared of me. If you don’t want to be friends anymore. If you’re furious at me. I’m sorry,” he started to say. “But don’t take it out on Peter, James and Sirius. Stay friends with them. I’ll distance myself from them so you still have your friends. Please, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Why would I be scared of you?” you snapped. 

“Because… because you know my secret?” Was there a chance that Sirius was right?

You bunched your eyebrows together. “Your secret? That you leave the castle at night?”

“Oh. Um. Well, shit…” he muttered, looking down at his lap. Sirius was right. You didn’t know. He took a deep breath. “Then I have something to tell you.”

He waited for you to say something, but you held your tongue. All you could do was stare at him. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than usual. So, he hadn’t been sleeping well. 

“I’m… I’m a werewolf,” he said quietly, completely unable to look at you. “The werewolf.” 

You took a sharp breath. That… that explained a lot.

“That’s… that’s… That’s why you didn’t visit me?” you said after a few minutes of intense silence. 

Remus nodded. He finally raised his gaze to meet yours. He was shocked to see your expression as something soft, rather than something of anger or fear as he had expected. 

You remembered all of the lessons you had on werewolves in the past. How they had no control over what they did in wolf form. How excruciatingly painful the transformations were. The wolf was blood thirsty and brutal. Remus, however, wasn’t brutal. He wasn’t a beast. He was… your friend. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut. Then, with your voice barely audible, “I thought you didn’t like me anymore… I just wanted you to visit me…”

“I thought you knew. I thought you hated me, wouldn’t want to see me.”

“I was asking for you!” you exclaimed, your voice louder and more firm. “I wanted to see my best friend!”

“But I’m a monster. I… I ruined you…”

You crossed your arms over your chest in sudden anger. “I am not ruined, Lupin. Scarred, yes. But not ruined.” 

Remus’ hands were shaking uncontrollably in his lap. His heart was pounding. 

“That’s not what I meant!” he said quickly.

“It’s what you said.”

“Please, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I miss you so much. I didn’t intend to hurt you. You know I would never hurt you if I was in control.”

“Were you in control when you didn’t visit me in the infirmary?” 

He swallowed thickly. “I was.”

“And that hurt me, Lupin.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. If I could go back and change it, I would.” 

You clenched your jaw. You knew it was killing him. It was evident in his voice, in his face, in his posture. You made it blatantly clear that you didn’t blame him for the attack, for the permanent damage to how you looked. You did, however, blame him for not visiting you when you needed him. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I forgive you for being an ass? No. I can’t. Because I don’t forgive you.” 

“Can you give me a second chance? I’ll do anything. Anything. Anything to make it up to you.” He was begging at this point. 

“No. Not now. We aren’t friends, Lupin. Not because,” you let your voice drop to whisper, “you attacked me. I know that wasn’t you, per se.” Your voice returned to its previous volume as it dripped with hurt. “We aren’t friends because all of my friends visited me in the infirmary.”

“Please,” Remus said, his voice quiet with desperation. 

“No. I can’t forgive you. I can’t give you a second chance right off the bat. I have no reason to. Just… Just leave me alone.”

Remus nodded and stood up. He waited for a moment to see if you had anything more to say. When you didn’t say anything, he left. By the time he passed where Lily had moved to, tears were streaming down his face. You weren’t crying, but you did feel empty. Officially ending your friendship with Remus had taken more out of you than you expected.

[bunnyinvanilla]

sugar daddy!john price x sugar (cry)baby soft!fem reader, laaaarge age gap, price is in his late 40s and reader is 21, suggestive, daddy kink obviously

you’re sugar daddy!john price’s good girl, always eager to be pampered and showered with compliments — you just wanna be his good obedient little girl.

in and out of bed, you’re the most precious, obedient bunny girl, with the most evident praise kink, just wanting big old daddy price to call you his “good girl” — and oh john surely loves to give you what you need, always muttering with his rough, deep voice a “you’re such a good girl for daddy, aren’t you angel? atta girl, that’s a good girl”

and you’re content, soft and sweet :)

but — one time, john finds himself wondering if maybe your shyness isn’t preventing you from wandering into a different flowery path than the usual one you love lingering on,

you trust him with everything, but being the pillow princess that you are, the only way he could ever find out if you were into something else, would be by rolling his sleeves and taste the waters himself.

his hand grasp a fistful of your hair with the roughness you’ve grown to love, pulling your fragile body closer to him, until your back is pressed against his hairy, muscular and bulky chest — your cheeks are warm and red, and you can already picture the upcoming praise that’ll fall from his lips like petals, that’ll wrap you up in such a fuzzy feeling of contentment in the midst of all that harshness, roughness that makes you melt like strawberry and vanilla pudding in his hands….

he’s too caught up in the sensation, his young doll being so warm and soft around him — even if he’s a rough, hard dom, he always, always balances his harshness with gentle, tender words, praises and affirmations — always, until…

“y’er such a needy nasty little girl, look at you, a whimpering mess for you old man, isn’t that right? can’t even speak or think properly, sweetheart, used like a mere toy—“

…until the words that this time come next are unfamiliar, and your already ragged breath stills completely — your body stiffens, and you narrow your sweet eyes down towards the messy sheets, surprise striking through you like an unexpected lighting during a spring day. what?

where’s the ‘good girl, taking me so well angel, you’re so well behaved”

what? what happened to the praising part?

your chin wobbles, and a little, strangled meek sound bubbles from your throat — the corners of your eyes start feeling heavier, and a watery veil falls over them as delicate, little tears fill them up.

and price — when you tilt your head to look at him from over your trembling shoulder, frowning and glossy eyed with a look of confusion and hurt — oh gosh, he almost dies right there. you definitely aren’t into that, and he’s messed it up.

“doll— oh no princess, don’t cry baby—“ his growly, raspy words trail off as he realizes he’s said the wrong thing and you’re crying over his mean words. “shh, shh sweetheart,”

you let out a little mewl, and another pearly tear runs down your cheek, but he quickly coos down at you, hovering over your back and pressing a kiss on your teary face, “oh love, im sorry, don’t cry angel, fuck, you’re daddy’s good girl, you’re always my good, perfect girl”

you sniffle, your pouty lips quivering as his strong, heavy hands turn you around, laying you on your back against the mattress to face him “what was that, sir…?”

“nothing, angel, nothing, i didn’t mean it my love, daddy’s sorry, sweet thing,” every gruff, lowly spoken reassurance is followed by a kiss on your cheeks and lips, silly him, he just wanted to see if his little bunny would like to try a different type of candy…

swallowing back another sob, you look like an upset, sad little bunny, and you’re tempted to roll over and hide beneath the blankets.

oh he’d definitely have to make it up to you, how could he make his poor delicate good girl distress like that, although unwillingly?

“didn’t like it daddy..” you mumble softly, tilting your head and squinting your eyes when his mustache tickles your cheekbone

his warm, calloused hands rub your waist soothingly, caressing your hips as your limp arms locked around his neck, “I know love, I know princess, you’re my delicate, sweet, good girl, daddy‘s proud of you, bunny, I apologize, my lady…can this mean, bad daddy make it up to you, mmh, love?”

it’s hard to stay offended when his buff, bear body is pressed delectably heavily against you, muscles ripping and flexing underneath scarred skin — your cheeks flush red, burning bright, and you only nod, still pouting.

cause you know he didn’t really mean it :,(

it’s in your nature, good girls want to be praised affectionately, just like bunnies only want to be pet, and never scolded.

[owensbabygirl]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 °●.○•°●.. 𝐌.𝐒

warnings: smut, heavy?-plot, kissing, cursing, counter- unprotected sex, p in v, pet names (baby), marking up, tell me if there's more. dividers by @issysh3ll

english is not my first language.

the sound of the spiraling mixer kept humming in the background as you added the eggs into the batter, the thick mixture looks almost cartoon-ish to your eyes.

you couldn't sleep, no matter how much you tried to turn and find the cooler side of the pillow, your eyes won't rest, your cold, goosebumped dermis won't stop sending shivers through you, keeping you awake until the late hours of the night.

it was annoying since it wasn't the first time this happened; it's the third night in a row that you needed to take a pill to sleep, which didn't really halped either.

such as matt, but he was more used to it, it was like his little nightly routine. he was scrolling endlessly on his phone, and when that became boring- he threw himself over the couch and watched some trashy action movies from the 80s.

it wasn’t hard to hear the fake gunshots and overly dramatic grunts coming from the TV. when you turned to the other side again, the flickering light seeped through the small crack in the door.

you slid out the sheets, walking out the door to see matt sitting there, casually man-spreading on the couch. "why are you up?" he asked while you walked closer to sit next to him. "couldn't sleep," you exhaled, leaning your head on his chest, your eyes relaxing a bit from his calm breathing.

you sure 'bout that? kid u're almost droolin' over me" matt observed, wrapping his hand around your shoulder as he brought you closer to him "I know" you whined "I'm so tired but I just can't sleep".

matt stayed quiet, continued looking around the house until his eyes locked on it, the little recipe book collecting dust in the corner of the kitchen. "you hungry?" he queried, you looked up at him, where did that come from? "hungry?" you repeated questionly. "it's a yes or no question".

that wasn't wired, but the way he said it- he didn't asked, he knew what he wanted. you shifted away from his chest to sit properly. "what were you thinking 'bout?".

you didn't know how that happened, how you ended up getting ingredients out the fridge on fucking 3am to make blueberry muffins, "" matt licked his lips while looking at the blend.

"y'know, you could help making instead staring at it," you said as you took the baking pan and other ingredients out the drawer, by the time you set then all up you still heard no answer, not hearing anything actually, matt was quiet, too quiet. "matt,...matt?....matt!?"

"yeah" he muttered quietly, his mind too focused on the way the blueberries sank into the dough, not hearing that this is the third time you called for his name

"are you eve- MATT!" You groned, taking a small amount of flour in your hand and throwing it in his face, giggling softly to yourself.

"UAH! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" he yelled, taking a step back as he tried to get rid of the white powder scattered all over his face.

(charli xcx sneezed on him type shit)

"Come on matt" you continued giggling. "it's not that bad." "are you fucking kidding me!? YOU GOT IT IN MY EYES!" he angered, blinking a little to see what's around him. He wanted to slid that off and laugh, but when you continued tittering and pointed out at him, he needed to give back.

He looked around, he saw the flour, but it was too boring to "revange" the same way, but then he saw the blueberries, those old, sweet, skin sticking blueberries.

Before you could even say something or hide he grabbed then in his hand and threw then all over you, the little fruits hitting your face and body, their purple-y juice splashing all over you amd made your skin be so...sticky.

You let out a gasp and looked up to meet his eyes "oh you are so dead" you smirked, amd within a second, both of you held random components and started to throw them on each other.

All of matt’s hair went shiny from oil and yours looked like it aged a few years from the flour. Since you also forgot to turn the mixer off, the batter became overloaded and chunks of dough flew out and got sticked on you two, and the walls, and the counters, and the drawers, and the floor, and everything.

Both of you quickly rushed to turn it off, your pasty skins touching which made matt let out a disgusted giggle, and when he turned the mixer off, you both just bursted out in laughter for all what just happened, standing there, gross then ever, as matt hugged your waist and you balanced yourself with a hand on his upper chest.

You took a few steps back to lean against the island counter, matt still hugging you as the laughs started to fade. It was fun, sure- but matt couldn't give up without saying the last word.

So after you thought this whole "fight" was over, you heard an egg crack, and before you coukd understand why matt smiled this wildly, you felt this disgusting, nauseating texture of the raw egg sliding down your head and back, which made you whine an "ewwwugh".

You threw your head back, trying to make it slide away faster, you didn't gave back, you knew you practically started all this so this is your payment, but whike you did so, matt just kept smiling. "who's laughing now, huh?" He teased.

Lowering your head, now level with his eyes as you sighed. "Matt, you need to learn when to shut up."

"Oh really? Look who's talking, " he remarked, moving his hands up from your waist to the back of your neck, pulling you closer with that knowing smirk.

You leaned closer too, so close that you could feel his warm breath, but not enough to close the gap between your faces. You knew this was another some kind of a game, of who is going to give in first, matt alwyes liked that shit, but you weren't to give in, not now.

Just like you knew about this game, matt knew you won't give in. So if you won't give in for a kiss, you would give in for something else.

Matt hauled down his head, letting his tongue lick the spurts of blueberry juice who sticked there from beforehand

"m-matt, what are you doing?" You probed.

this was from the kinds of things matt didn't like, or did he? He never really tried to do (so-called) wired things, but now when he did, it didn't look like he was going to stop any sooner.

He gently tilted your head, his hands holding you in a more firm grip to keep you in place. There was a moment of pause, like he wanted to sevor the intimate moment, and then, he pressed his lips harder at that spot, his teeth grazing it.

He continued to nip the poor, bitten spot. matt knew you so well, he knew how you acted even when his eyes were closed. He knew you wouldn't want to show you needs, show how much you wanted him.

You bit your lip to quiet the little mewls you wanted to let out so bad, but matt knew better, he moved one hand who held you in place and blindly searched for your lips, bringing his finger to part your lips just at the right time to hear that little whine rolling off your tongue. You tilted your head desperately to the side, exposing more of your neck for him.

"fuck I love blueberries" matt whispered to your ear, but it sounded like he more said to himself.

While you were "busy" tagging your hands in his hair and pull him closer, matts hands lowred to hold your hips, gripping them tightly. He cut the contect with your neck, moving to nip the other side of your neck as he lifted you up and set you on the surprisingly clean part of the counter, not daring to look up at your eyes.

Desperation was at the highest, hands gripping on his hair as your head was fully thrown back right now. Your legs wrapping around him- pulling him closer, needing him close as possible.

Once matt had you where he wanted, he slipped his hands under your top, his cold hands touching your now heated skin- making you hiss a little, but you couldn't give a fuck less. The top quickly found itself thrown on the floor.

Matt wasn't any less desperate- if not more. He couldn't let go of your touch, so he grabbed your face with one hand, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he clumsily unbuckled his belt with his other, eager to feel you.

Unbuttoning his jeans and taking them with his boxers down to his ankles. Matt kept kissing you, you parted your lips farther and drew his face nearer. your thumbs caressing his cheeks to feel the thick bristles, matt's tongue darted into your mouth as you opened your mouth further for him, his tongue immediately going to explore the inside of your mouth. He could feel his mind growing fuzzy with desire and need for you.

Now when kept his face in place and his hands were free he lifted your hip with one hand to take your pants and underwear off from one side and then from the other, throwing the clothes to wherever.

He brought one hand to stroke his aching, tip leaking cock. He wanted to tease you to make you say how much you were trobbing to feel him in you- but couldn't.

The sight of you leaning your forehead against his, dark, now doe eyes staring to his soul, was too much.

He gave no warnings- but singed when he gripped your hip tighter before you felt him inside of you, you letting out a mix of a gasp and a moan as you buried your head in his neck, your hand gripping on his shirt.

Matt's eyes widened as he first felt himself swollen deep in you, exhaling loudly as hus chest raised and falled from over pulse. It felt like something snapped inside of him and all the gentle, feather-light touches were gone.

He trusted into you, his dick being pressed from all sides just the right way. "you feel...fuck...so good" he panted, his hands moving to grip your ass, nails digging at it as his hips slapped against your own, your body bouncing as he picked up the pace.

matt smiled when he saw how quiet you were, gripping on his shoulders and biting your cheek to not let out any sound, honestly, it was amusing for him. "c'mon baby, let me hear you"

all you could let out was a little hum, you knew that your body was going betray you if you'll open your mouth. "let me hear you now or I'll stop." matt demanded, his pace slowing down each trust.

"mm...no!" you mewled "please matt, don't stop."

"why? you want this, huh? go on then baby, say how much you want it" he grunted, his slow trusts pacing up when he saw you freeing your head out his neck "please matt, please" you pined.

"yeah...yeah say m' name name like that" he teased, his hands once again sliding up to find your waist, clutching on it as he trusted into your gloppy walls, and fast, really fast, so much that you couldn't moan to the feeling of him touching a spot since he already touched another delicate one.

a following whimper rolled off your tongue, your legs around him encouraging him to get closer, you needed more. more touch, more of his dick, more.

as much as matt wanted to look up to see your desperate, eager eyes. he couldn't stop staring at your tits, how they bounced so hard theat they almost fell out your bra, like they called for his name.

his hands moved up from your waist to your torso as he lowred his head, shoving his face between them. you reached you a hand to take the bra off but matt pushed it away, he liked how they were put together, so close that matt could just feel his stubble scratching them.

"mm...fuck, so good." you moaned, his lips biting the area around your nipple, leaving a few marks in their awake.

you smiled, your fingers holding on his messed up hair as he worshipped your body, but the ego boost didn't last long when matt lifted you up and set you on your ass instead of the back of your thighs, the new angle letting him hit other cushioned spot "uh-uh fuck....oh my....shiiit" matt moaned.

"matt...f-fuck I'm so close" your eyes rolled back and mouth parted to get more air into your lungs. "me too, hold it." he urged, trusting faster if that was even possible.

"fuck please please please" you begged, even that you didn't knew why for. your moans becoming more frequently, and when matt looked down on the base of his cock he saw the knot of your stomach already started to form. "oww...god, look at that" he admired.

your nails digged to his back through his shirt, dragging them down in a hopeless try to let some of the pressure out. "matt please...aw my god!" his hips pressed against you a few more times before your body clinged to his body, your legs shaking as your release crushed out of you in tender waves.

"fuck" you mewled loudly, matt's climax not far behind. his hips shivred seconds later as he came into your flattering walls, groaning as your pussy milked him dry. your panted, your breathing coming in short pants as he held you close, letting the high wash away from him.

matt stayed still for a few moments before moving his hands to cup your face "you're good? didn't hurt or anything, right?" he asked, a little hint of worry in his eyes "no..that was...it was good." you breathed out.

"well lets get cleaned up...literally, your hair still has that egg smell on it" matt teased "well your hair is full of oil too" you teased back.

yall I wrote this when I was stoned lmao this is just too cute to keep it to myself, reblog if you liked it ig, love yall ass cheeks thx for reading♡

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: random word prompts with jin, tohma, luca, kaito, alan, sho, and leo!

COMMENT: i made tohma a magician lol. ALAN GOT ANGST IM SORRY

tagging @amaribelt for luca!!

Jin - Option

“Which one do you want?”

You stare, dumbfounded, at the mass of formal wear on the rack in your room, all different colors and shapes and sizes. Jin stands in the midst of it all, arms crossed over his chest and an expectant eyebrow raised.

“You...for me?” you point at him and then back at yourself lamely, mouth hanging open.

“Just pick one.” he says, gentle despite the ice in his tone, “I want to know what you’ll be wearing tonight so I can match.”

Oh. Right, the dance tonight. You’d almost forgotten with all of your inspector work.

“Thank you.” you murmur, hesitantly reaching out to touch them.

“It’s no problem.” he says.

Tohma - Lily

Hand in hand, you twirl.

The blue fabric of your outfit brushes against Tohma, and for once he isn’t bothering to keep his distance. His hand burns where it touches your waist, his eyes glinting even behind the monocle. You can tell he’s keeping track of your state, catching you when you slip and leading you when you stumble.

Formal dances have never been your scene, but you’ve always been willing to try for him.

When the music stops and the couples disperse, Tohma stands by your side, leading you to the refreshments table and grabbing you some water.

“You dance beautifully,” he says.

“You were a wonderful lead.” you compliment him back before gulping down the water.

His eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles, and you find yourself smiling back.

“One last thing.” he whispers, leaning in closer.

Your breath catches in your throat as his hand reaches past your ear—

And he produces a flower.

A pristine white lily, no less.

New beginnings.

You can’t help but wonder what new beginning he sees in you.

Luca - Horizon

The breeze is soft against your face as your baby hairs tickle your cheeks. The birdsong fades as the sun creeps lower behind the horizon, oranges and yellows and pinks dying in the sky. You turn to Luca and become warm when you meet his gaze, his hand over yours.

“Did you have fun today?” he asks.

He sounds so soft, like he’s telling you a secret. He almost sounds scared you’ll say no.

“Luca.” you lean over, placing your other hand overtop of his and squeezing, “I had the best time.”

He ducks his head but fails to hide his smile, boyish and tender and so him. It sets your heart ablaze and you scoot closer and closer until your thighs are touching. Your head hits his shoulder and he rests his head against you in return, almost thankful.

Reverent.

Kaito - Rational

“Kaito!” you huff, grabbing his forearms, “How dense are you?”

He stops yelling at Luca immediately, mouth hanging open at your forceful touch. His cheeks are bright pink and he’s stunned.

“Luca is not putting the moves on me! If anyone has been putting moves on anyone it's been me trying to get you to notice how into you I am!” you scold.

As you shake him violently, Luca politely excuses himself, making his way towards the stacks to give the two of you some privacy.

“Wait! Hold on, what did you say!?” Kaito shrieks, voice cracking at his shock, “You’re into me!?”

“Yes!” you sigh heavily, glaring up at him, “How dense are you?”

His lip flap some more before he can squeeze another sentence out.

“Are...are you sure? Am I dreaming!?” he fumbles for his uniform jacket, yanking the sleeve up his forearm and pinching himself violently.

“Kaito! Be gentle with yourself.” you swat his hand away.

“Oh, it’s fine, don’t worry about me, I’m sorry—Eeek!?”

You kiss where he pinched himself, and Kaito just about falls to his knees.

Oops.

Alan - Notebook

Alan doesn’t mean to scare you. It’s the last thing he wants, really.

Which is why he apologizes profusely when he manages to creep up behind you as you scribble sentence after sentence in that notebook of yours, his eyes snagging the last few words and oh they send his heart racing.

I think I’m in love with him.

He feels lighter than he has in years, but he squashes the feeling. He greets you gruffly and sits beside you, not missing the sigh of relief you let out. You cram your notebook back into your bag and he presses his lips together.

“Hey Alan!” you laugh nervously, using your elbow as support as you slump against the table, “What brings you here?”

You bring him here. Is that not obvious?

“I need to study. It’s quiet here.” he says instead.

He hopes he’s the one you’re in love with.

Sho - Infection

Sho has never looked more unimpressed with you.

You shrink away from his gaze, a tissue bundled up against your nose. You side eye him hard as you blow your nose, directing all of your animosity at him and hoping he doesn’t notice your shame.

“You don’t have to look at me like that.” he snorts.

You glare harder. He sighs.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you. Will you forgive me if I make you some soup?” he kneels by your side, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You sniffle and nod.

Sho laughs again, this time softer.

“Okay. Wait here for me, alright?” he says.

“I’m not going anywhere like this anyway...” you gripe.

Leo - Month

“Huh? Do I know what day it is?” Leo parrots your question back lamely, eyes glued to his phone.

“Yeah...? It’s sort of important.” you huff.

He hums, scrolling through various short form videos. You lean over his shoulder to recapture his attention, but he hides his phone all too quick.

That makes you suspicious.

“What are you hiding?” you tease, bumping your body against his.

He sputters and whacks you back, glaring at you.

“Can you not act like a brute for two seconds?” he hisses, “I didn’t plan this fucking party for your birthday just to get this treatment.”

You freeze. Leo keeps walking. He grumbles something under his breath and starts scrolling on his phone again.

You have to speed walk to catch back up with him.

“You planned a birthday party for me?” you ask, not quite believing what you heard.

“Of course I did.” he rolls his eyes, “I’m not stupid enough to forget something like that.”

[flesh-of-a-hare]

poppy playtime oc/self insert bc i have no self control and i draw to anti-cope (oc info n shit below the cut)

their name is Baseball and they r a silk moth version of a discontinued line of smiling critters that were going to be based off of bugs. they were a little older/more mature than the average kid who got taken and read the most stories out of all the other kids so they r safe haven's designated storyteller. on good days they reenact the stories they can remember or make new ones up, on bad days they use their claws to climb up the walls to hide out in a corner of the ceiling so they don't spread their bad mood to the others. the one person they have any amount of respect for/listen to is Doey and the two make an effort to cheer one another up when they notice the other is in a bad mood.

the face they have here is actually a mask, bc when they were being made they came out scarier than intended- too scary for a kids toy, so they were fitted with a mask/ balaclava so they wouldn't scare the others. their name comes from the stitching on the mask looking, y'know. like a baseball.

they r covered in fluff so the sweater it looks like they r wearing is just fur lmao. they are soft and fluffy and make for good hugs and are more emotionally mature than most of the other kids in safe haven, so they are also the designated hugger whenever one of them needs to cry/be held (especially if Doey isn't around)

on especially bad days, they will randomly decide to venture out of safe haven to wander/find supplies. Doey hates it when they do this bc they never tell anyone when they're leaving and even though they are one of the more nimble/sneaky members of haven, they have gotten themselves in bad spots more than once. they don't talk about why they do these random 'supply runs'. the truth is uncomfortable, and neither wants to acknowledge what the other knows they r thinking. Doey does get mad and will give them a lecture if they do something especially stupid but he knows they hate it when he gets loud so most times he just gives them a lot of angry looks until they apologize

they do not like Poppy and will actively make fun of her in childish ways whenever they hear her talking lmao. they don't trust the Player and will spend any time around them just. staring at them in silence. its mostly awkward but also slightly terrifying. they hate the doctor more than they are scared of him, and spend a lot of time thinking about all the things they would do to pay him back for all the harm he's done. when he is gone, they feel strangely sad about it. they almost miss him, maybe only because it was easier when they had someone to hate and blame for everything. they curl up in a corner of what's left of safe haven and try to daydream their way out of the real world.

[coyotelip]

au, where pandora and regulus became best friends only after his death.

(including some jegulus and pandalily. this is like a fic concept, but I don't feel like writing anything, so I just want to share this idea with you. enjoy!)

Pandora comes from a family of modern witches and because of this, almost no one wants to have anything to do with her. She is a strange student who wears maxi skirts made of ten different pieces of clothing, carries a trail of herbs and jingles every amulet she wears.

of course, Regulus, as the mayor's son, did not want to get close to her during his lifetime. when he died, it turned out that Pandora was the only one who could see his disembodied spirit, which remained wandering the earth.

It's a friendship that shouldn't have happened, but with a little bit of effort, all the barriers between them disappear. finally, there's someone to whom Pandora can tell about her crush on Lily Evans.

she spends hours and hours experimenting to determine the limits of Regulus' existence here on earth. can he leave the city? can he touch things, feel heat or cold? can the rest of her family see him?

she digs into his story so much to understand what exactly keeps him here, why his spirit cannot rest?

In the process, he reveals his biggest secret - his crash in James Potter. Pandora is delighted, and she doesn't let him get away from the topic until she convinces him to write him a letter. Pandora writes by herself, because of course Regulus cannot hold a pen the way he did when he was alive. he gives her a dry and emotionless text with reluctance, but she adds color to it and paints it much more emotionally.

Regulus can't stop her when Pandora puts the letter in James' locker. in fact, deep down, he doesn't want to. Regulus boldly uses his power to be there when James finds the letter, but he doesn't read it right away, hiding it and taking it home. the remnants of his morals prevent Regulus from following it and breaking into James' room, no matter how much he wants to be there.

the first letter is followed by the second and third.

the situation takes an interesting turn when Sirius suddenly approaches Pandora. he is clearly unhappy and asks her in private, rather aggressively, what she wants. he has noticed her sneaking letters to James and intends to stop her because he is not interested in her.

Sirius' hot blood gets the better of him and he touches Pandora. not firmly, just puts his hand on her shoulder and tries to corner her. but this is enough to anger Regulus, and without realizing it, he shouts out an angry "don't touch her" and tries to push Sirius away.

Sirius' head jerked up and he... looked straight at Regulus without seeing him. his brow furrowed and he looked confused, but after a moment he looked back at Pandora, "What did you do?". Pandora just stares at him in confusion and gasps for air, not knowing how to explain it. Sirius quickly disappears without waiting for her.

seeing how their little game of writing notes for James has taken such a heated and unpleasant turn, Regulus finally recognizes how pointless it is. so instead, he promises Pandora he'll find a way to get her with Lily.

but to their surprise, Sirius comes back. he follows Pandora, but he doesn't look angry, rather concerned. he comes and asks not to play with him - it's cruel to play tricks on his brain using his dead brother.

and so Pandora is determined to find a way for Sirius and Regulus to talk for the first time in years. she is certain that this is what is keeping him stuck to the earth. honestly, at first she thought it must be his hidden crush and letters to James would help.

but now Pandora is sure that brotherly love is sometimes worth much more than romantic feelings.

[gohyemi]

no turning back

She worried. Really worried.

Is there anything that she does that makes him upset? These days, he had been ignoring her calls and even replying coldly to her whenever she texted him, which made her worried.

She has to fly to New York for her work, and it may take a month for her to get back here. To ease her heart and feelings, she is planning to see her boyfriend's happy face before she takes off. She wears a dress that he likes her to wear, preparing a light lunch for him cause she knows that he will be grumpy a bit if there isn't any food in his stomach and as an extra, she buys some flowers.

Lily flowers

As she made it to the company, she went to the floor where her boyfriend would be. As she was about to open the door, one of her boyfriend's friends greeted her.

“___, what a glad to see you!” Jeonghan went for a hug. She just smiled and greeted him back. Jeonghan see what she is holding and give her a teasing gaze.

“Wooo, I bet ddadu would be happy to see you prepare for this all” Jeonghan bumped his shoulder lightly.

“I hope so.. He's been off these days, and I'm trying to make it better. Which I hope it will,” she smiled awkwardly. Jeonghan ruffled her hair and smiled. “I bet he will, kiddo. Let's go surprise Cherry!” As Jeonghan opened the door a bit. They heard a conversation that was kinda intense. Jeonghan was in front, so she did not see what was happening inside.

“You know you’re being rude right now” Wonwoo told him.

“I can't stand it anymore. Why can’t she just notice that I'm trying to avoid her because of how clingy she is?” he said.

She was trying to be positive and thinking that he was talking about someone else, but the next words that he said already broke her heart and made her feel a lump in her throat. How could those words easily come out from him?

“Y/n should know that everyone is busy, not like her, who always has time swinging her legs. I'm kinda regretting starting this relationship” Jeonghan gripped the door handle and looked at the corner of his eyes. He saw how she lowered her head, wiped her tears and tried to hide her face.

“Oppa, I think today is not a great day for the surprise, I guess”, She said with trembling in her voice just to play it cool.“I think I might be late for my schedule. I’ll go first” Before Jeonghan could say another word, she had already walked toward the lift.

Unable to bear looking at her like that, he opened the door wide until it hit the wall, attracting people inside, including Seungcheol.

“Ya choi Seungcheol, don't you think you're being too much just now?” Jeonghan ask calmly.

“What do you mean?”

“Playing dumb, are we?” Jeonghan sarcastically said, “We heard what you just said. If you don’t want to have hard life break up with her she deserve someone better that asshole like you.”

“We?”

“She heard it all, and she, on the way out, cancelled her plan to surprise his dickhead boyfriend to make him happy again” Jeonghan went to the water dispenser, trying to calm his burning inside.

—————————

“Come on, pick up, please!” Seungcheol becomes more anxious as time goes by. He tried everything to reach you, but to no avail; it all failed. His last resort is to go to your house. But it seems like you are not home, and that is when he notices all the messages that he ignored the whole week.

Cheollie, are you ok?

I’m sorry if I did something wrong, but I left a bit of takeout at your house. I hope u like it 

He sees the last message along with a picture of her flight ticket. It made his blood drain from his face

I don't want to disturb you. I know you have been busy, but I just want to inform you that I got the show at Newyork, which I will 

“Go today…” Seungcheol mumbled. He looked at the time, and it was already your flight. He slumped down in front of your door, ruffling his hair in frustration. All of the harsh things that he said pass through his memory. How hurt she can be when she heard all of that. How he will feel if he is in her shoes

[murdrdocs]

i need to take advantage of luke so fucking bad. need to abuse my powers as the daughter of hypnos and ride him when he’s asleep or make him have wet dreams of me until he corners me and begs me to stop.

ohh anon i fear he is not begging you to stop he's demanding. like he's angry and he's trying to hide it, which makes it all the more obvious. the sharp way he beckoned you over from your friends to pull you deep into the forest, the tensions in his shoulders and face, the growl to his voice. he's telling you to "stop what you're doing," trying to threaten you, too. "or i'll—" and you're not fazed at all because you see the plea in his eyes, the slight softness in his gaze. you know luke so well, you've grown up together, so you know what it looks like when he's worn down and cornered. you've only seen it a couple of times, this time makes a third, but the look is so potent and rare that you have it memorized.

your arms are crossed over your chest as you tell him, "or you'll what?" because there's truly nothing he could do. he couldn't snitch, not like he would anyway, but what's he going to say? you're making him dream of cumming on your tits and he keeps coming into his plaid pajama pants instead? no, there's no real way he could get back at you. unless he starts torturing you, too, making you see just how much you're riling him up without any real release.

eventually the two of you are just gonna have to fuck it out.

(you make him dream of that later on, too. knees scratching in dirt, the same substance caked beneath your fingernails as you let him have you from behind, his fingernails creating indents in your skin. it's sort of your best work yet.)

[hapuchika]

Machiavellian

Part 1

Warnings: Just detailed injuries

Summary: honestly I can’t think of a summary. It’s just villain reader.. or maybe antihero reader. Idk check AO3

A/N: this has not been proof read and I just kinda word vomited this thing. Anyway. Hope you enjoy, byeee

X—X—X—X—X

You checked your watch and sighed. Twelve minutes left until showtime. You looked around the safe, the door wide open, while the staff sat tied up. You were sitting in a less-than-comfortable chair, your feet on piles of cash lined up.

You told the receptionist, “You know, for a team that has a literal speedster, they sure do take their time.”

She merely nodded wide-eyed, still unsure whether her life was in danger or not.

Five minutes left. You stood up, stretching, contemplating whether you should take down the initial barrage of guards or not. It wouldn’t take much work, but you didn’t want to be sweaty when they arrived.

You walked around the inside of the safe, trying to decide which position would look the coolest. You glanced back at your watch and realised they should have entered the building by now. Quickly sitting back on the chair, you got your daggers out. Smiling at the faint purple and red hue.

It had taken you two years to finally make these daggers that suited you. Imbued with magic and poison, these daggers were perhaps the most lethal ones in this universe, capable of killing gods. Well, only three so far, but maybe another one soon enough.

The sound of footsteps brought you back to the present. Ten men in black armour brandished some fancy guns, all of which were pointed at you.

You slowly stood up, chuckling when you heard those NPCs cocking their guns. It took a mere wave of your dagger to start shooting, all of which missed. You moved too quickly, almost as though you knew exactly where each bullet was headed. Deflecting any bullets you could not dodge in time; it looked nearly practiced.

It took a little under three minutes before the guards had their tendons sliced and passed out, save for one guard who received the purple dagger delivered straight to his crotch. You grinned at him, pulling your dagger out, the serrated part ripping parts of his genitalia out with it.

You basked in his screams until you heard the voice you had been waiting for all along.

“That’s enough, Y/n. One more move, and you’re going down. Hard.”

You turned around to find the black widow pointing her fist towards you, her widow bites waiting to be launched.

You raised your hands in surrender, the two daggers vanishing into thin air.

Natasha’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before darting to the hostages, her shoulders imperceptibly relaxed when she found them safe in the corner, not a drop of blood on them.

“Don’t make this har-“

“I surrender”, you interrupted, a mocking smile taking over your features.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed; she tilted her head as Tony said something into her earpiece.

Your smirk widened. “So… we’ve got five more minutes before our foreplay is interrupted? Let’s enjoy it while we have the time.”

If the assassin was surprised, she didn’t show it. You ran towards her, dodging the first widow bite. You grinned as the both of you got into the rhythm of the fight. You ducked a punch, getting into her space as she was about to kick. You saw a hint of a smile as your breaths mingled. Quickly jumping back, you narrowly avoided the knife that slashed where your chest would have been.

“Sweetie,” you tutted, “if you wanted my clothes off, you could’ve just asked.”

She huffed, struggling to hide the smile beneath her cold exterior.

The both of you stared at each other for a moment, and your eyes snapped over her shoulder for just a moment as you smirked and nodded.

Natasha whirled around, cautious of an attack, only to find herself staring at a blank wall. Her gaze snapped back to the space where you were supposed to be. Your laugh trailing down the corridor.

Cursing under her breath, she chased after you to the main entrance of the bank. She snuck behind you, seeing as your back was facing her.

“About time… You wouldn’t happen to be skipping cardio, would you, Tash?” You asked without turning around.

Indignation flittered through her as she lunged at you. The two of you tumbled and rolled on the ground until Natasha found herself on the floor, her hands and legs pinned by yours.

The widow did her best to hide the heat crawling up her neck at the sight of you straddling her hips.

She stared into your eyes as you leaned closer, your lips nearly touching her earlobe.

“Any moment now…” You whispered softly

It took every ounce of willpower to prevent her eyes from fluttering shut.

Seconds later, red whisps enveloped your body and flung you towards the wall.

Natasha remained where she was, the sight of you slamming into the wall echoing in her head.

“You’re welcome.” She heard Wanda say as the witch gently landed at the entrance.

“I had it handled.” The assassin retorted, standing next to Wanda, preparing for their next attack.

The two of them knew fighting you was an ‘all hands on deck’ situation, but there was something about the energy between you three that was downright intoxicating.

You stood up, stretching and popping the cricks in your neck. Groaning in satisfaction at the release.

You looked at the two of them, smiling in delight.

“I have to say,” you said, your grin widening. “I certainly appreciate you cushioning my fall, gorgeous”

Natasha didn’t need to look at Wanda to see the blush rising in her face.

“However,” you continued, “Just to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

You clicked a button on your wrist gauntlet, and a low buzz emanated from the device.

As soon as the buzz stopped, your body shimmered for a moment.

“Now then,” you started, summoning your daggers, “Shall we continue?”

Thus, the three of you got into yet another fight that looked almost choreographed.

Wanda quickly realised she wasn’t able to summon her whisps directly onto you, so she resorted to throwing them as concussive blasts along with whatever debris or furniture she could find.

Not that it did either of them any good; you always dodged every attack as though you knew exactly what they were going to do before they did it.

It should have annoyed Wanda, yet it just made her enjoy the fight more. She didn’t need to restrain herself with you. Didn’t need to risk anyone getting too injured.

Natasha was experiencing something similar. She had given up long-range attacks and stuck to hand-to-hand. Your moves were not identical to hers but instead complemented hers. You seemed graceful, never putting too much pressure or force, almost as though you’d practiced this fight hundreds of times.

She shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help enjoying the movement. Her and Wanda’s attacks were well-timed; there was no risk of Wanda’s attack hitting her.

The three of you got lost in the fight, trading blows and quips. You flirted your ass of, while they may or may not have reciprocated.

Suddenly, you froze, your head snapped towards Natasha. Catching both of the Avengers by surprise, Wanda’s attack caught you, flinging you across the room.

Still staring at Natasha, you throw the dagger in your left hand midair, narrowly missing her shoulder.

For the second time that day, you were thrown across the room; this time, however, you hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

Wanda gasped, eyes wide in shock. She immediately ran to check on you, her supposed enemy.

Natasha spun to your target, knowing your aim could rival Clint’s. She saw one of the shield agents with her knife in his hand. There seemed to be a sizzling hole in his crotch; what shocked her was the dagger in his chest. His body was seizing, mouth foaming.

She knew the dagger was poisoned; that much was clear. She did not know which poison it was; she could not think of a single poison that made the victim’s skin bubble, not just at the entrance of the wound, but his skin everywhere seemed to be bubbling, his eyes had rolled back as his body finally stopped seizing.

She turned back to you only to stop in her tracks. With this angle, there is no way the agent could have aimed at you. The only person he could have hit was… her.

There was no way you could have seen him… Just what were you?

Meanwhile, Wanda approached you. You were already starting to get up from the ground; there was a hint of blood coming from your scalp.

You looked at her with a soft smile. “I’m okay, darling. You didn’t hurt me,” you said.

Wanda’s shoulders relaxed at the reassurance; she did her best to ignore the way her heart fluttered at the endearment.

She stood tall and cleared her throat, “You’re under arrest, Y/n.”

You stared at her, a slight smirk making its way across your features.

“Is that so?” You challenged, “You think you can catch me all by yourself, printcessa?”

Wanda rolled her eyes, a smile breaking through her façade.

Your eyes flickered to where Natasha knelt towards the guard you had killed. You knew she would notice it soon enough; you needed to leave by then.

You returned your gaze to Wanda, breath hitching at the position the both of you were in. You, on your knees, while she stood tall.

Wanda seemed to realise the same, her eyes looking at you with a slight predatory gaze.

Good Lord, these women would be the death of you.

You shoved your arousal as far away as you could. Slowly summoning the poison dagger behind you so she wouldn’t see.

You tried the ‘looking over her shoulder’ trick, but her gaze remained on you throughout.

“Wanda…” You said slowly, a slight tremor in your voice.

“Y/n..” She replied, her voice husky.

“I have to go.” You told her, your eyes never leaving hers.

She didn’t reply, her gaze heated. She took one step towards you.

You braced your heart and lunged at her, nicking her with your dagger. Wanda’s eyes widened in shock as she jumped back. But it was already too late; the blade had cut her.

She stared at you in shock, her vision going hazy. Her knees buckled as you quickly held her, slowly laying her down comfortably.

The last thing she heard before everything went dark was your voice.

“Come find me... both of you.”

Wanda felt a soft kiss on her forehead, and then everything went black.

[lazysoulwriter]

kindergarten queen - pedro pascal.

It was just another chaotic yet wonderful day at the kindergarten. She had spent the afternoon painting with the kids, which meant her dress was now decorated with tiny, colorful handprints, and there was definitely blue paint in her hair. To top it all off, one of her students had placed a pink princess tiara on her head, insisting that she looked "just like a real queen." Who was she to argue with that kind of logic?

By the time the final bell rang, she was exhausted but happy, making sure all the little ones were safely picked up by their parents. She barely noticed the sleek car pulling up to the curb until she heard a familiar voice call her name.

Pedro.

She turned, her heart immediately doing that ridiculous fluttering thing it always did whenever she saw him. There he was, leaning against his car, wearing that effortlessly cool look he always had—white t-shirt, silver chain, that lazy half-smile that made her knees weak. But as soon as he got a good look at her, his expression changed.

“Oh. My. God.” His mouth fell open, and for a second, she panicked, glancing down at herself. “What? Do I have something on my—oh, right. The paint.”

Pedro let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he walked toward her. “No, it’s not just the paint,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners as he took her in. “It’s the whole look. The tiara? The little handprints? The sheer dedication? I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were burning. “You say that like you didn’t already love me.”

“Oh, I did,” he said, placing his hands on her waist, completely ignoring the fact that he was now probably getting paint on himself too. “But this? Seeing you like this? Jesus, I don’t know if my heart can take it.”

She laughed, playfully shoving his chest. “Okay, Romeo. Let’s go before you start reciting poetry.”

Pedro dramatically clutched his chest. “You wound me.” Then, as she turned toward his car, he quickly reached up, adjusting the tiny pink tiara on her head. “No, but really. You’re actually the cutest human being on the planet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, but the way her face heated up gave her away.

As they got into the car, Pedro leaned over and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering just a little longer than necessary. “For the record,” he murmured, “I’m never getting over this. Ever.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “If you mention the tiara even once after today—”

“I’m buying you a whole collection,” he interrupted, grinning as he started the car. “Different colors. Maybe one for every day of the week.”

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands as he laughed, the kind of deep, warm laugh that made her stomach flip.

Before driving off, Pedro pulled out his phone, aiming the camera at her. “Wait, wait—don’t move. I need to capture this masterpiece.”

She gasped. “Pedro, no—”

Click. Too late. He grinned, admiring the photo. “This is going to be my new favorite picture of you.”

And as they drove off, Pedro kept sneaking glances at her, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Because to him, she absolutely was.

[benz12313]

Surface Tension Ch.2 - Ridoc x OC!Doll

|Images are not mine|

Description: Despite wanting to be anywhere but the rider's quadrant, Daisy Jenkins loves her family, and so begrudgingly, she volunteers herself to go and throw herself to the mercy of dragons. She struggles with her confidence, but will a certain man with a penchant for mischief and a flirtatious attitude show her that she doesn't have to hide? That she too has a voice that can and should be heard? Will she be bold enough to claim him as her own? Or will she let him slip through her fingers, forever just out of reach? {Slow Burn/Mated Dragons/Friends to Lovers}

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2,030

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Two - Forming Bonds

I watched each candidate after me become a cadet, with my back to the pillar behind me. I scanned the crowd, silent, watching, and silently begging that this would all be over soon. The adrenaline crash after all the excitement on the parapet was leaving me tired, and it wasn’t even over yet. We still have to be assigned squads, eat dinner, and settle into the barracks; where mom said we’d be separated by sex, and then be stuffed in the a room of bunks in rows. 

Don’t run. 

It was the only thing they would say about forming squads, but based on my mother’s dark chuckle when she’d said it… Yeah, there was no doubt in my mind that it wasn’t as simple as they’d advised.

Don’t run. 

I scanned over the crowd. An hour had passed, the Basgiath bells marking the hour just a few minutes ago. I wish I could just slip into bed now. The armor my father had forged using his metal wielding signet wasn’t foreign to me. I’d been training with the newly formed corset for months now, but it was wearing on me. I couldn’t wait to sit, the thing got fucking heavy after a while. Taking it off would be impossible other than when showering until after threshing, when we were assigned our own dorms and safety while sleeping was nearly guaranteed. 

Just because it’s against the codex to attack a rider while they sleep, doesn’t mean that some don’t have the balls to do it anyway. 

It wasn’t much longer until the three upperclassmen that had been on the other side of the parapet crossed, and I knew we were done. Every cadet standing in the courtyard now, were the ones who had made it. Who got to live through their first day. I couldn’t help but notice the significant size difference from when we’d waited below, before we ever even stepped foot on a single stair. How many of us have died?

The girl from the parapet pushed through my mind, and I flinched. I’d done good ignoring those thoughts since we’d made it to the courtyard, since Ridoc Gamlyn had disappeared into the crowd. I let my lip tremble for a second before shoving it into the darkest corners of my mind, and shutting the door. No time for softness now. Not here. Not when I wasn’t the only one off to the side, scanning the crowd, watching for strength and weakness. The red-haired monster from before was across the courtyard, towering over most of the rest of us first-years, and scanning the crowd, just as I was. 

His mere existence seemed to shove me closer to that dangerous zone of fight or flight with every second. Everything about him set me on edge, something rubbing me wrong with his silence, that menacing aura he exuded. In my experience, which was admittedly narrow based on the fact that I come from a small mountain village of barely 100 people; bullies are usually loud, boisterous, and trying to be the biggest person in the room. This man was quiet, calculating, and…well he’s still the biggest person in the room. His entire demeanor set me on edge, and I knew with certainty; I wouldn’t be ignoring him anytime soon. In fact, I was certain he would star in a few of my nightmares after his display on the parapet. 

The Commandant stepped forward and I sighed, stepping forward and facing the dais just like every other cadet in the courtyard. Even the second and third years were at attention. He congratulated the 301 of us that survived, but my heart lurched when he said that 67 of us did not make it. 67 people died today. I knew the crowd had looked smaller, but so many of us just…gone. Swallowed by the rain, poor balance, and…other cadets. My eyes burned and I cursed myself for my weakness. My weak heart would be the death of me here if I didn’t learn how to keep it in check. 

He went on, talking about our future, being intimidating as hell, and subtly warning us of the dangers. Introducing the teachers, and then finishing with a threat to not make us his problem. Great. 

Nyra, who was apparently senior wingleader of the quadrant, started talking, and sorting us into squads. I was sorted into 2nd Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing, along with two other girls who looked thick as thieves already. One with ombre hair, the ends silver and was my height, no more than an inch of difference. Sorrengail. She’d made a spectacle of herself apparently. Enough so that when I’d made it across, people were still talking about her confrontation with another cadet. The girl next to her was a bit taller than me and Sorrengail, with deep brown skin, and several rows of braids all pinned back. They whispered in front of me, Sorrengail muttering facts to the other girl, and I intently listened. Any info is good info. 

Then Ridoc was called to our squad, and he slipped into line on my right. He gave me a side-eyed look, massive grin on his face, and then he fucking winked, making me fight the blush rising, again. Damn idiotic handsome face of his. 

“Wow, must be fate Doll.” He teased, and I rolled my eyes, staying quiet as they finished making squads. “C’mon you know you missed me.” I breathed an irritated sigh before I noticed Sorrengail stiffen. Eyes scanning the dais I noticed the wingleaders arguing over something. But then we were moved to Fourth Wing and if the terrifying yet somehow sexual smirk our new wingleader was sending directly at Sorrengail in front of me was anything to go by, it was definitely to do with her. Well shit. 

“They need a room.” I muttered quiet enough that only Ridoc could hear and he damn near choked himself trying to suppress a chuckle. I turned red. Why the hell did I say that?? Maybe Ridoc was rubbing off on me. Either way I’m fucking mortified I said that out loud. 

The wingleader started a surprisingly charismatic speech, that was obviously a setup to something else. Don’t run. The sentence coursed threw me as I heard the familiar sound of wing beats.

I didn’t see my parents dragons often, but when you live in a generally quiet place the sound is easily recognizable.  

Eight fucking dragons land on the wall, chunks of stone falling. “Don’t run.” I mutter, fear coursing through me for just a moment before I locked my body down. I got as stiff as I could so my body wouldn’t betray me and move on its own. I notice Ridoc twitch next to me and a new fear courses through me. My hand flies before I can stop it, gripping his wrist tightly and his eyes fly to mine. “Don’t run, my parents said don’t run.” I whisper and he nods as my fingers tighten, pressing harder into his skin. I look forward again. “Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run.” I mutter like a fucking mantra that will somehow keep me alive. 

Three run. Three piles of ash remain.

The smell of sulfur stings my nose. My heart hammers in my chest, but I don’t flinch. I stand. I stare at no dragon in particular, sure not to meet one’s gaze. They were beautiful though, every single one of them. I had always loved dragons, even if the riders weren’t my ideal choice in quadrants. They were powerful, majestic, and so..fucking..huge. Being able to mount one was definitely going to be a challenge. Not impossible though. 

I barely heard our wingleader as he continued to speak. All I could do was watch the dragons; their serpentine movements, their silent authority. Fear was still there, gripping me as tightly as I was gripping Ridoc, who had finally been shut up. Even he had the sense to stay quiet in the presence of the dragons. 

Only when the dragons disappeared, and our squad leaders (ours being Dain Aetos, a stern guy who seemed very…strict, but somehow more than strict) started leading us to the cafeteria did I let go of Ridoc. I was a bit too shaken, and frankly much too tired to be embarrassed I’d held him that long. He didn’t say anything, just shooting me a playful grin, much to my surprise. Maybe he was just as shaken as I was. I don’t think he’d ever admit that though. 

Throughout dinner I was silent, listening to the others introduce themselves, none of them really going into extreme detail. Guess it’s not surprising that none of us trust each other yet. 

“And you.” Aetos turns to me, and I gulp. 

“Ugh, Daisy Jenkins.” I say simply and Sorrengail, Violet, perks up from my right. You can see the equations in her eyes as she thinks on my name. 

“As in Mikael Jenkins, famous metal wielding rider?” She asked and the others eyes widened and I nodded, cheeks surely going pink. 

“He helps forge a lot of Navarre’s weapons, and ugh, armor too. But weapons are easier for him to mass produce.” That’s why we lived in the mountains to begin with. Plenty of metal to forge. Also why he had been allowed an early retirement. 

“Badass Doll.” Ridoc says, sending me a wink from where he sat across the table from me, boredly pushing back on his chair. He only grinned wider when I looked away. 

Aetos moved on, until he gave us directions to head to our rooms. Warning us to make sure and get plenty of rest, wakeup is at 6, which frankly is just cruel. Mornings have never been my forte.

I was nearly there, just behind Rhiannon and Violet, when Ridoc grabbed my arm and pulled me to a side hallway. After inspecting if we were alone or not, and coming to the conclusion that we were, he turned his attention to me, making me nervously grab the straps of my small pack. 

His eyes were playful, but heated, and focused directly on me, making me entirely too self conscious. This was different than the looks before, more intense and focused. Like every ounce of his attention was focused entirely on me. There was no fighting it now, from my neck up felt like it was on fire. His eyes narrowed and he grinned wide, voice dropping low. 

“Hey Doll,” He wasn’t even touching me now, hands moving to sit casually in his pockets, but he might as well have been caging me in place the way my body felt like it was frozen. 

“Hey Ridoc,” I squeaked out, and his smile softened a bit. Still ever playful though. 

“Was wondering…well figured I’d ask you if wanted to find a empty room and celebrate still being alive with me.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at me and I gulped.

“Ugh-“ I started, and something flashed in his eyes, gone faster than I could identify what it was. 

“Don’t feel bad if it’s a no though, not too late for me to find someone else.” He added and my stomach sank. Why did that not feel right? There was no way I actually wanted to sleep with someone I just met, right? 

“Um, we probably shouldn’t. Being squad mates and all?” It sounded more like a question than anything else, but he nodded, still grinning. Just…it felt colder now, despite his face not having changed at all. 

“Right, no worries Doll. Go on, I’ll see ya in the morning yeah?” I backed away, feeling a bit sick to my stomach, though I couldn’t rightly place why. That’s what I wanted right? To curl up in bed and let myself relax for the first time all day. Why did his eyes look like they'd lost their life? And why did that bother me more than anything else?

“Yeah.” It was practically a whisper. “See you in the morning.” He nodded and I turned, leaving him in the abandoned hallway. Why do I feel like that was a mistake?

Author's Note: Thank you to all that have showed the first chapter some love! It's definitely been fun getting back into posting. Just wanted to say that I've started two taglists; one for this story and one for all my Ridoc fics from here on out, including this story. If you'd like to be added to either just let me know which one! Thank you again for reading! :)

@xadenswhore @jinx108

[biblical-chronicles]

Derby day pt.2

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where you actually show up with Gallagher written on your back

Pt.1 | Pt.2

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The comment had been gnawing at you for days.

"If I play me cards right, it’s gonna say Gallagher on the back."

Noel had dropped it casually, like it was nothing more than a joke. But you hadn’t missed the way he’d said it—how his voice had softened at the end, just a little. You’d caught the subtle shift, the part of him that might’ve been more serious than he let on.

Did he mean it? Or was it just him being Noel, running his mouth and cracking jokes for the sake of it?

You weren’t going to ask.

He’d bring it up if he wanted to. Until then, you were fine leaving it as a passing moment—until, of course, your own mischievous side kicked in.

That was how you found yourself in the City store days later, grinning as you got handed the new kit with Gallagher neatly written on the back.

Noel didn’t know. You didn’t say a word, just hung it up in your closet.

And when match day came around, you slid it on beneath your jacket, hiding it for the right moment. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you zipped it up, glancing over at Noel. You half-expected him to notice, but if he did, he didn’t mention it.

The Etihad was buzzing as you both arrived, fans chanting and the energy palpable. But before you could make your way to the stands, there was the usual stop at hospitality—a chance to grab drinks and settle in.

And just like last time, the CBS Golazo crew was already there.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Noel muttered under his breath as his eyes locked onto them, making no attempt to hide his exasperation.

You laughed, but before you could say anything, Micah Richards spotted you both and waved you over, grinning like he’d been expecting this moment all along. “Oi, oi! There they are! Back again, eh?”

Noel just sighed, shaking his head, but still walked over with you.

Carragher was already chuckling, his eyes narrowing. “See that yer missus has already got herself the new kit you helped design."

Micah slapped his hands together. “Oh yeah, the kit is great, but I''m sure we are all waiting to see some particular detail.”

You tried to keep a straight face as Jamie leaned in, his grin as wide as ever. “So, you’ve gotta tell us—any name on the back this time?”

You didn’t miss a beat. With a quick shrug, you slid off your jacket, letting the kit fall into full view.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, eyes going wide as the silence stretched. Then, just as the realization hit, the room exploded.

“No way!” Micah was the first to react, laughing so hard his voice cracked. He slapped Jamie’s arm, pointing at you like he’d just uncovered some great mystery. “Noel, mate, she’s serious!”

Jamie, equally shocked but thoroughly entertained, gave Noel a mock sympathetic look. “You’re fucked now, lad. She’s put the ring on herself.”

Noel stood frozen for a moment, blinking at the sight, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief. His mouth opened, but no words came out for a second—just the faintest blush creeping across his cheeks.

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered under his breath, running a hand over his face.

But then, just as quickly, the shock melted away, and a slow smile crept onto his lips. You could see it—the corner of his mouth twitching, the way he just couldn’t help himself from grinning.

Micah grabbed Noel’s hand, shaking it with exaggerated enthusiasm. “You know, I gotta say—I didn’t think she had it in her, but fair play. She’s clearly got more guts than you, mate!”

Jamie pulled you into a hug, laughing as he ruffled your hair. “Fair play love, congratulations. That’s one way to keep him on his toes!”

You pulled back, still grinning. “Had to keep him guessing.”

Noel shot you a look, raising an eyebrow as he finally managed to find his voice again. “Yeah, well… you’ve got a funny way of keepin’ me on me toes.” He gave you a soft shove, but the fondness in his eyes was unmistakable.

You could tell he was trying to keep up his usual sarcasm, but there was something else there too—a kind of warmth in the way he was looking at you, the way his hand had found its way to the small of your back without him even thinking about it.

“You’re all proper daft, you lot.” Noel grumbled, shaking his head. But the smile still hadn’t left his face, and you could see his shoulders finally relax.

Micah was still laughing, practically wiping tears from his eyes. “Nah, mate, you’re just mad lucky. Look at her. You’re a lucky man.”

He tugged you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in that familiar, protective way. “I’m the lucky one, yeah?”

You smiled, leaning into him as the laughter and teasing from the group continued around you. Micah had his arm draped over Noel’s shoulders by now. “Don’t worry, Noel. We’re just here to make sure you know it, mate. But, seriously…” He paused, looking between you two. “You two look right together, don’t you think?”

Noel finally let out a short laugh, shaking his head again. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, clearly flustered, but you could see it—the pride in his eyes, the way his gaze lingered on you just a little longer than usual.

You just continued laughing with the group, but before you could properly respond, Noel's hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer. He turned his attention to the rest of the CBS table, who were still laughing and waving after you, and then, as if on some impulsive whim, he pulled you away from the table.

“Come on, you,” he muttered under his breath, a low, almost needy tone threading through his voice. His grip tightened around you, and you found yourself tugged away from the conversation, your arm instinctively looping around his.

“Oi, where are you going?” Micah called after you, though his words were more amused than anything else. “You're leaving already? Happy honeymoon to you lot then!”

Noel just shot him a grin over his shoulder, before guiding you toward a quieter corner of the venue, where the noise from the crowd seemed to fade.

He didn’t waste any time, gently tugging you toward a nearby couch and plopping down with a soft grunt. Before you could even settle beside him, he was pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Oi, come here.” he mumbled, practically purring as he pulled you closer, his arms tightening around you as though you might slip away. “You’re not going anywhere, yeah?”

You chuckled softly, surprised by his sudden clinginess. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you didn’t mind it one bit. His weight was comforting as he settled in, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’re a right softie when you want to be, you know that?” you teased, feeling his fingers lightly squeeze your waist as he held you even tighter.

“Shut up,” he muttered, but the smile on his face gave him away. “You’ve got me all... emotional.”

He kissed the side of your neck, just a light press of his lips, but it sent a shiver down your spine. You felt his body sink into the couch, and his grip on you never loosened, like he was reluctant to even give you space to breathe.

“Well, you know, I could get used to this clingier Noel” you murmured, relaxing into his embrace, your fingers idly running through his hair.

“Good,” he said, his voice low, like it was a promise. “Because I’m not letting go anytime soon.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but the truth was, there was something oddly comforting about the way he was holding you, so tight and so unyielding.

He pulled away just slightly, enough to look at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oi,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “that kit you’re wearing... that’s not exactly... factual, is it?”

You blinked, confused at first. “What?”

“The name on the back. It’s a bit of... misinformation, innit?” he said with a smirk, his fingers still tracing slow circles on your side.

A little smile tugged at your lips. “Oh, I know what you mean. But, y’know...” You paused, looking up at him with a playful gleam in your eye. “I’ve got an idea how you can make it factual.”

Noel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and for a second, he looked like he was trying to figure out if you were joking or not. He leaned back slightly, his hands still gripping you possessively. “What d’you mean, eh? You can’t be serious.”

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your fingers playing with the edge of his shirt.

He was quiet for a second, like he was still processing what you meant. Then, a slow grin spread across his face, and he pulled back slightly to look at you. “Wait... are you... genuinely suggesting what I think you are?”

You only raised an eyebrow in response, watching the shift in his expression. There was something hopeful in the way he was looking at you, something a little more vulnerable than usual.

“Well, yeah,” you started, voice low.

Without a word, Noel pulled you closer, his lips crashing into yours in a kiss that cut off anything you were meaning to say. The heat between you both was instant, but it was short-lived as his lips tugged into a smile even as he kissed you, forcing you to pull away, grinning back at him. You two just looked at each other, smiles spreading across your faces, only to start giggling like kids in the next few seconds.

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desperately needed fluff after all that angst, hope you like it and per usual thanks to @shes-thunderstormssss for the beautiful request x

also, I actually love the kit Noel designed, have it meself and the colours are great + the soundwave circles + the collar giving it a more retro look (it's 30% off now btw so if anyone is interested it's a good deal now)